Epilogue #2
Her grin turns wicked. Whatever she says next is going to haunt my nightmares, and she knows it. Cara follows our line of sight, spots the heavy flirtation, and immediately hisses something to Bowen. He, in turn, writes it down.
At one of the other tables, Tristan lurches to his feet. He holds a glass of wine aloft. Judging by his rosy cheeks, this is not his first. “I want to make a toast!” he announces.
Minerva tries to tug him into his seat, but he will not be moved.
He waves his glass toward us in a toast. “To our good buddy, Owen. He doesn’t talk a lot, but he’s good at goaltending.
It’s kind of the same thing, really. Except, the opposite?
He doesn’t let the words out, and he doesn’t let the puck in. ”
His wife giggles into her napkin. In the corner, Knova finishes scolding Adler and points him toward his table, then rounds on Tristan.
Tristan rambles on, oblivious. “Owen, we love you. Even though it was kind of confusing at first to have an Owen and a Bowen. Your names sound the same, but you are not the same. You are so very different from him. I mean that as a compliment to you.”
Honestly, considering the source, that somehow still counts as emotional growth.
God help me, I love these idiots too.
Bowen raises his head from his bookkeeping project. “Hey!”
Tristan holds a finger to his lips. “Shh. Just let it happen. As for Remy, congratulations on marrying an amazing guy and a solid player. Also, for having a dad who’s also a player. Go for it, man. Kiss her! Kiss her!”
I look to Remy for guidance. If a kiss is what it will take to shut him up, nobody needs to twist my arm. But Remy’s cackling, and most of the people in the room are chanting, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” and I finally realize that they’re not cheering for us. They’re cheering for our parents.
Mom’s blush deepens. Butch shrugs and whispers something in her ear. She nods back.
Next thing I know, Butch has literally swept my mom off her feet and kisses her like he just came home from war. Ma swoons in his arms. I suddenly understand why Remy kept laughing every time I called this my nightmare.
“Woohoo!” Viktor jumps to his feet. “Owen, you’re getting a step-dad!”
I hate how quickly my brain starts trying to calculate those logistics.
“I’ve got condoms if you need ’em!” Adler hollers.
Dante applauds their shameless display. “This is better than the vows!”
Beside me, Remy is dying laughing. I’m dying for real.
Butch pulls Ma upright again and wraps an arm around her. When the photographer appears, they don’t waste a beat before wrapping their arms around each other and striking a pose, like they’re on the poster of an old Clark Gable film.
“This is my nightmare,” I whisper.
Although admittedly, there are worse problems than watching the people you love fall stupidly happy together.
“No.” Remy pats my cheek. “They’re cute together.”
“But it’s weird!”
“Welcome to married life, babe.” She kisses the corner of my mouth. “We could always take back the spotlight, you know.”
It’s hard to worry about anything else when her lips are on mine. So I kiss her again. And again.
And again.
For so long, love felt dangerous and temporary. Standing here with Remy in my arms, surrounded by this loud, ridiculous family we somehow built together, it finally feels like it was always meant to stay.
###
Thank you for spending time in the crease with Owen and Remy.