Epilogue
Noah
Eleven months later…
“Why am I nervous?” I scrubbed my hand over my face, scoffing at my thoughts. “There is no reason to be. None.”
“Great sign of health. Talking to yourself,” Oliver chirped, joining me in the hallway outside the workout room.
“Actually, self-talk can be healthy. It’s better to speak out loud and manifest than hold thoughts in. Doc told me that, and I believe her over you any day, bro.” Quinn clapped my back and wiggled his brows. “Today is the day, yes?”
“Yeah, it is.” I exhaled and rocked back on my heels, staring at my teammates and Ivy as she neared us. She, too, knew of my plan to ask Em to marry me. Despite being a goddamn professional football team, they were gossips and way too involved in my business.
Plus, they helped plan the clues, so I wasn’t complaining too much.
It had almost been a year since Em and I decided to be together for real, since she said I love you in that bathtub to me.
And it had been the best year of my entire life.
It was still hard—life with a six-year-old wasn’t easy, and while Miles had more good days than bad, he still missed his mom.
He saw a therapist once a week to help navigate grief, and I made sure to still see Sloane as often as I could.
“You ready for this, Abbott?” Ivy asked, her easygoing smile on display. “Em’s gonna love this.”
“She will. I know she will. I’ve been planning this for months, and she knows it’s coming, yet it’s giving me anxiety.” I shook out my arms, letting some of the nerves go. Em told me numerous times she wanted to be my wife. So the jitters were silly and misplaced.
“Because there’s a chance she’ll say no?” Quinn asked, earning a punch from Oliver. “What? The girl has other options.”
“You’re a menace to everyone.” Oliver rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone. “Oh, no way.”
“What is it?” I asked, immediately going worst-case scenarios. Em texted him to run away, and Oliver took her without my knowledge. Even thinking that in my head made no sense. God. I needed to get it together.
“Price Charming got traded here.”
“Oh, the receiver from LA?” Quinn’s brows came together.
“Yeah. He went to our college too. Different year. Good guy,” Oliver frowned, meeting Ivy’s gaze. “Ivy, he ran in circles with us a bit. His wife… she passed away a year ago. She went to Central State too.”
“Shit.” Ivy paled and ran a hand over her chest. “I remember reading about that—totally sudden, out of nowhere. I’ll let Sloane know so she can prepare. He’s a great guy, hell of an athlete. You all better be nice to him.”
“Are we mean to anyone?” Quinn fired back.
“Yes. You’re a pain in the ass to most.”
“How soon until he’s here?” I asked, grateful for literally any distraction. Em would find her first clue any minute, and she’d call when she did. My hands sweated, and my pulse raced—the ring sat heavy in my pocket, and God, I wanted her to wear it. Only two hours from now, then she would be.
Then I’d convince her to get married fast. I wanted her to have my last name. I wanted Miles, her, and me to all be Abbotts.
“Few days. He could start next game too. It makes sense since Blaze is out for the year. Also, why so many guys from Central State? Y’all aren’t that good?”
“Quinn, shut up.” Oliver pushed him to the side right as my phone rang.
Em.
“Fuck off all of you. She’s calling! She’s calling!” I barked, physically shoving Quinn and Jordan backward as I bolted down the hallway.
“You’re gonna cry!” Quinn yelled after me.
“I already did once today!” I shot back. “This is growth!”
I ducked into the empty film room and answered on the first ring, breathless and grinning like a fool.
“Hey,” I said, trying—and failing—to sound normal.
“You’re not gonna believe this,” Em said, voice bright and breathless. “I found a note taped to the coffee maker.”
I leaned back against the wall, eyes closed. Showtime.
“No way. Did you read it?” I asked.
“Obviously I read it,” she said. “It says—” She cleared her throat dramatically. “‘Good morning, future clue-solver. If you want to know how much I love you, follow the trail. First stop: the place you said tasted like happiness.’”
There was a pause.
“Noah,” she said slowly. “Is this… is this the thing?”
“It might be the thing,” I said. “How do you feel about…muffins?”
She gasped. “You did not.”
“I sure did.”
She knew what this was. She had to.
I cleared my throat, wishing I could see her face. “Yes, baby. This is the moment. Now follow the clues.”
“Ah! Okay, ohmygod. Okay, Noah, hey, Noah?” she asked, voice filled with emotion.
“Yeah?”
“I fucking love you.” Then she hung up.
First clue down.
I stood there staring at my phone like it might combust in my hand, my chest buzzing so hard I had to pace to keep from vibrating through the floor.
I pressed my palm flat to my sternum and took one breath.
Then another. Then I laughed, low and disbelieving, because holy shit—she was actually doing it.
She was following the trail. She was playing along. She hadn’t freaked out or panicked.
She’d said I fucking love you and hung up.
Quinn poked his head into the film room a second later, eyebrows high. “Did she cry yet?”
“No,” I said automatically. “But I might. She’s excited.”
He grinned like a proud menace. “Of course she is. Dude, y’all are perfect. Do I wish she would leave you for me? Yes, but if it ain’t me, you’re the next best.”
“You’re not invited to our wedding, for the record.”
He snorted. “Bullshit. How you not gonna invite your QB? The press would eat you up. Chicago loves me, brother.”
I flipped him off, grateful despite his stupid mouth. He loved shit like this, and fun fact—he used to create logic puzzles and sell them online with his mom. I thought that was the coolest thing ever, but I’d never tell Quinn that.
My phone buzzed, and I forgot about Quinn entirely.
Em: okay FIRST OF ALL I AM AT THE MUFFIN PLACE
Em: SECOND OF ALL WHY DID THE LADY BEHIND THE COUNTER SAY “OH YOU’RE THE GIRL”
Em: THIRD OF ALL THERE IS A NOTE UNDER MY NAPKIN, AND I AM SCARED
I laughed out loud, scrubbing a hand over my face.
Me: read it
Me: also tip her, she is a co-conspirator now
Three dots blinked. Disappeared. Blinked again.
Em: You said this place tasted like happiness. Next stop: the place you built with your hands. The place that made you grow,
Em: NOAH
Em: ARE YOU SERIOUS
I leaned back against the table, staring at the ceiling. “Yeah,” I muttered to myself. “I’m serious.”
My phone rang again immediately.
“I’M GOING TO THE SHOP,” she announced, breathless and laughing and very much on the edge of tears. “WHY DID YOU DO THIS ON A DAY I’M ALREADY EMOTIONAL?”
“I take it these are good shouts?”
“Of course they are good shouts, Noah. It’s not every day a girl is going to be proposed to! Who let you in the shop? I was just there? Who betrayed me?”
“Baby, I have keys to the shop.”
“Oh yeah.” She laughed and then squealed. “This is so exciting. Oh my gosh. Wait, should I change my clothes? Or redo my makeup?”
“No. I want you exactly how you are. Don’t change—” I paused. “I can’t handle waiting longer than I am. I need you with my ring, okay? Put me out of my misery.”
“Ugh, you sound so in love with me. Fine. I’ll hurry, just for you though.”
She hung up again, my lips curving so damn hard my cheeks ached. This was going better than I imagined. I knew she’d love this, but the glee? Yeah, life with her over the last year had been better than I’d fantasized about.
The last year had been a lot quieter than I ever expected, in the best fucking way.
Em’s shop wasn’t a gamble anymore—it was a real business with regular hours, employees who depended on her, contracts she negotiated.
Three teams contracted her work now for merch, and she quit all her part-time gigs.
Daniel lived five blocks away now, took classes online, and was her operations manager. Em’s parents filled the grandparent gap, and in a surprise to both of us, her dad loved Miles. Loved being a grandpa influence on him. They stopped by every other week for dinner and always snuck Sassy treats.
My parents…well, they were in therapy. Turned out, they’d handled their grief horribly.
Full asshole mode and realized it. They weren’t completely forgiven, but we’d had three dinners with them, with Miles and Em of course, and they’d been kind.
We were a work in progress, but I wasn’t as worried anymore.
Miles would never know life without love, and that was all I could control.
Sloane helped me see that, and I was once again grateful for our team’s mental health doctor.
Nat still showed up in small ways—songs on the radio, Miles’s laugh, the way Em loved him without trying to replace her—and instead of causing me to spiral, it reminded me I was doing right by her.
I stopped seeing Sloane weekly and only went occasionally on big anniversaries.
Miles and I had our own traditions to honor his mom, and his newest one was writing a book for her that we read at the beach.
Of course, Sassy was on every page. That dog helped save him, and I would forever be grateful for her.
My phone buzzed again, this time from Audrey and Theo. They also conspired to make today happen. How could I not? Em loved her family.
Audrey: envelope placed, captain.
Theo: okay, I wanted to do that. No fair.
Audrey: calm down. You helped a little.
I shoved my phone back into my pocket and forced myself to stop pacing. The equipment hallway wasn’t built for this kind of emotional energy. It was built for cleats and tape and men trying not to feel too much.
The next call came twenty minutes later. I answered on the first ring.
“You saved this?” Em said, not even bothering with hello. Her voice was shaky in a way that made me grip the edge of the bench. “This picture. I-I… thought it was gone.”