Chapter 32
CHAPTER
THIRTY-TWO
LOGAN
The graduation ceremony is small. I’m pretty sure my teammates, their wives and girlfriends, and their families make up at least half the crowd.
But the fact that half the room is here in support of Tessa feels fitting.
Everyone she loves is here—Joyce, Bob, Layla—showing up for her in a way she deserves.
It amazes me what she’s been through in her life and how she’s still come out on the other side as such a beautiful, kind, loving person. Despite all the tragedy, she put herself through college and chose a profession meant to make the world better. She’s literally brilliant.
She had the option to wait until the bigger graduation ceremony in December, like most students who finish in the summer semester do, but she didn’t want to wait.
She said she didn’t need a big ceremony—just one with the people she loves.
She wanted to walk across the stage, grab her diploma, and start her professional life.
When they call her name, Tessa Marlowe, she steps forward in her emerald-green cap and gown and walks across the stage. I can’t wait for the day she’s addressed as Tessa Wright, but for now, just knowing she wears the promise of our forever on her finger is enough.
Her cheering section immediately erupts, hooting and hollering, standing and clapping without restraint.
Tears prick at Joyce’s eyes as she applauds enthusiastically, with Bob’s arm wrapped around her shoulders.
Layla screams so loud she’s practically hoarse, and Iris whistles through her fingers like she’s at a hockey game.
My chest tightens at the sight of all these people showing up for her, celebrating her. She deserves this. She deserves every bit of love and support in this room.
When I let myself think about everything she’s endured, it makes me sad, so I try not to linger there. Tessa doesn’t want me to. She says everything she’s been through led her here, and she can’t imagine having a life happier than the one she’s living now.
Still, I can’t help wondering about her biological family—the ones who couldn’t keep her when she was a baby. I wonder if they think about her. I wonder who they are, or if they’re even alive anymore.
Tessa says maybe someday she’ll look into it, see if there’s anyone to find. But right now, she just wants to live in the happiness she’s built.
And I don’t blame her at all.
She reaches the end of the stage and stops, turning to face the crowd. The diploma is clutched proudly against her chest, and even from here, I can see her hands trembling slightly. Then her eyes find mine in the audience, and everything else falls away.
Her smile widens, radiant and genuine, and I see it all at that moment—the girl who survived foster care, the woman who escaped abuse, the graduate who refused to let her past define her future. Pride swells in my chest so intensely it almost hurts.
I mouth the words, “I’m so proud of you.”
Her eyes glisten with unshed tears, and she mouths back, “I love you.”
My throat tightens, and I have to blink back my own emotion.
She gives a small wave to the crowd—to our crowd—and then walks off the stage, her emerald-green gown swishing behind her.
The second the ceremony ends, and the graduates are dismissed, chaos erupts. Everyone rushes toward the front of the auditorium where the graduates file out, diplomas in hand and caps askew.
I spot Tessa immediately—she’s already been ambushed by Joyce, who’s pulled her into a bone-crushing hug while openly crying. Bob is patting her shoulder, his own eyes suspiciously shiny. Layla is jumping up and down beside them, waiting her turn.
I hang back for a moment, letting them have their time with her. They’ve earned it. They were there for her long before I was.
But then Tessa looks up over Joyce’s shoulder, her eyes searching the crowd until they land on me. Her face lights up, and she gently extracts herself from Joyce’s embrace.
She weaves through the crowd, clutching her diploma, her cap slightly crooked on her head. The moment she reaches me, I pull her into my arms and crush my mouth to hers.
She kisses me back, her free hand fisting in my shirt, and I pour everything I can’t say into it.
When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard. “Congratulations, baby,” I murmur against her forehead. “You did it.”
We take loads of pictures, making sure to snag all the different combos of people with Tessa.
When we’re finished, Bash’s voice booms across the crowd. “All right, people! Celebration time! Everyone to the Firehouse! We’re celebrating our girl Tessa!”
A cheer goes up from the Cranes contingent, and suddenly we’re being swept along by the crowd—teammates clapping me on the back, their wives hugging Tessa, everyone talking over each other in excitement.
“Did you seriously plan a party?” Tessa asks me, her eyes wide.
“Did you really think we wouldn’t?” Penny appears beside us, grinning. “Come on, graduate. If this group goes all out on anything, it’s parties.”
As we make our way to the cars, Tessa’s hand finds mine, lacing our fingers together. She looks up at me, her emerald cap still slightly crooked, her diploma clutched in her other hand, and she’s never looked more beautiful.
“Thank you,” she says softly, just for me.
“For what?”
“For being here, loving me, and making me feel like I matter.”
I stop walking, forcing her to stop too, and frame her face with my hands. “Tessa, you’ve always mattered. Long before I came along. But I’m honored to be here to remind you of it.”
She rises on her toes and kisses me again, soft and sweet this time.
“All right, lovebirds!” Miles shouts from his truck. “Save it for later! We’ve got a party to get to!”
Tessa laughs against my lips, and we break apart, jogging toward my SUV.
As I help her into the passenger seat, carefully taking her diploma so it doesn’t get crushed, I catch her eye one more time.
“Ready?” I ask.
She grins, radiant and free and so damn happy it makes my chest ache. “Ready.”
The Firehouse is packed by the time we arrive.
Our usual spot—the bar where the team has celebrated everything from Cup wins to birthdays to engagements—has been transformed for Tessa’s graduation party.
Emerald-green streamers hang from the ceiling, balloons are clustered in the corners, and a banner that reads “CONGRATS, TESSA!” stretches across the back wall.
“Oh my God,” Tessa breathes beside me, her hand tightening on mine. “You guys did all this?”
“Penny and Iris did most of it,” I admit. “But we all helped.”
Her eyes shine with unshed tears as she takes it all in—the decorations, the crowd of familiar faces, the cake on the bar with “Social Worker Extraordinaire” written in green frosting.
“I can’t believe this,” she whispers.
“Believe it,” I say, pressing a kiss to her temple. “You earned it.”
The moment we step fully inside, the room erupts in cheers. Music is blasting from the speakers, and Finn starts chanting, “Tessa! Tessa! Tessa!” until the entire bar joins in.
Tessa laughs, covering her face with her hands. I pull her close, grinning.
Joyce and Bob are already at the bar, ordering drinks. Apparently, they closed the coffee shop for the day just to be here.
“We hired another girl in addition to Billy,” Joyce explains when Tessa asks about it, handing her a glass of champagne. “Her name’s Jane. Sweet girl, but…” She exchanges a look with Bob.
“Not very competent yet,” Bob finishes diplomatically.
“Neither of them are,” Joyce admits with a laugh. “We figured it was better to just shut down for the day than risk them burning the place down.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” Tessa says, clearly touched.
“Of course we did,” Joyce says, pulling her into a hug. “You’re family, sweetheart. We wouldn’t miss this for anything.”
Layla appears with a tray of shots, her grin mischievous. “All right, graduate. Time to celebrate properly.”
“Layla, it’s three in the afternoon,” Tessa protests, laughing.
“And?” Layla raises an eyebrow. “It’s your graduation party. The rules don’t apply.”
She has a point.
We all take a shot of tequila, and Tessa coughs immediately after, her face scrunching up. “God, I forgot how much I hate tequila.”
“You’ll learn to love it,” Finn says, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “Stick with us long enough, and you’ll develop a taste for it.”
“Or a drinking problem,” Miles adds dryly.
“Um, I’m thinking neither.” Tessa chuckles.
The party kicks into full swing. Music pounds through the speakers, drinks flow freely, and the energy is electric.
“So,” Cade says, leaning against the bar beside her, “you ready for what dating a hockey player is really like?”
Tessa glances at me, then back at Gunnar. “What do you mean?”
“Summer’s over, sweetheart,” Jaden says, joining the conversation. “Season starts in a couple of weeks.”
“Which means,” Cade adds, “no more lazy mornings in bed. No more spontaneous day trips. Logan’s about to become a ghost.”
Tessa looks at me, concern flickering across her face. “Really?”
I shoot the guys a look. “They’re exaggerating.”
“We’re really not,” Miles says. “Training camp starts next week. Then preseason games. Then the regular season. You’ll be lucky if you see him for more than a few hours at a time.”
“Don’t scare her,” Iris cuts in, swatting Cade’s arm. “Yes, the season is demanding. But you’ll adapt. We all did.”
“Plus,” Anna adds, “the upside is you get to go to all the games. Watch your man play. It’s actually pretty fun.”
“It really is,” Miranda says. “Anna and I knew nothing about hockey when she first started dating Jaden. Now, we’re obsessed. The home games are great. We’re all in the VIP box together. When they’re away at road games, we fly out to meet them. It’s exciting.”
Tessa nods slowly, processing. “Okay. So I need to prepare for you to be busy.”
“Very busy,” I admit, pulling her close. “But it’s good.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” She leans into me.
I’m grateful for the summer we’ve had—the uninterrupted time to build our relationship and fall in love without the chaos of the season looming. Our relationship grew hot and heavy and fast, but I wouldn’t change a thing. Every moment has been worth it.
I’m happier than I’ve ever been. As I stand here, surrounded by my team, my family, with Tessa in my arms, I’m reminded again of what happiness looks like.