Epilogue
AVA
“Emerson was right, the matching ‘Coach’ hoodies were the way to go,” I laugh from where I stand on the sidelines with Rumi and Emerson.
The spring air is crisp, but I can still feel the tease of the summer as it blows.
“Did Anderson pretend to hate it as much as Jack did when you gave it to him this morning?” Rumi asks from where she sits on the blanket she set out in the grass, surrounded by toys that Evee left behind when she ran over to Jack during halftime.
I snort. “Yeah, right,” I say, bouncing lightly as I sway from side to side, keeping Eliana asleep in the carrier strapped to my chest. “He asked why we didn’t do it sooner, and I had to tell him these were just the prototypes for next season.
Georgie was the one groaning about how embarrassing it was when he pointed out how they matched. ”
A whistle blows, my attention turning to Georgie, whose back is toward us, the name “Montgomery” spread across the back of her goalie jersey, just above her number. Even though we still have to submit the official paperwork for her last name change, she’s a Montgomery in all the ways that matter.
We watch as the girls huddle up on the sidelines, surrounding Anderson as he kneels down, talking to each of them with a determined look over his features. His brown hair peeks out of his backwards baseball hat, curling at the nape of his neck.
He’s animated as he talks—the complete opposite of Jack, who stands there looking like he’d rather be anywhere else, Evee in his arms.
But we all know who cheers the loudest once the girls are on the field.
“Have you heard from Emerson?” Rumi asks, her hand coming to rest on her forehead to block her eyes from the afternoon sun.
“She texted that she’d be here before the game ends,” I answer.
As of a few days after I gave birth, Emerson joined the Cross My Heart tour as a nanny for the lead singer, Mateo Lane. Turns out, her friend Liam mentioned to her that the single dad was in need of some help with his son, and Emerson jumped at the chance.
“I’m glad she’ll be home for a few days before she’s back on the road again,” Rumi says as she stands, looking over toward the parking lot.
She seems a little antsy all of a sudden, but I don’t have time to ask her about it, the whistle sounding again and bringing my attention back to Georgie’s game.
“Oh, I forgot to ask,” Rumi says as we watch Georgie’s team move the ball down the field toward their goal. “Did you get your hearing date?”
I nod. “We’re all set for next week.”
After Eliana was born, it didn’t take long for Anderson, Georgie, and I to fall into our new routine as a family of four. Georgie was such a big help with her baby sister, and Anderson was the most supportive partner I could ever ask for through the newborn trenches and postpartum hormonal shifts.
The chaos and unpredictability was hard, and there were days when it felt impossible to overcome the way my OCD seemed to fight against every instinct I had. Constantly making me second-guess myself as a mother, while also trying to convince me I was doing everything wrong.
Not to mention, Anderson having to deal with the constant updates of not only Auggie’s recovery but also his sentencing for possession and distribution of their mom’s pain medication. And then there was my own realization that I was becoming a mother without my own mom there to support me.
Safe to say, it was a lot.
But when we started to see that light at the end of the tunnel, and our new normal didn’t feel so new anymore, Anderson asked if he could talk to Georgie about adopting her.
“I’m sure the two of them are excited to make it all official, like the last name,” Rumi says, a smile spreading on her face as we watch Anderson and Jack coach their team from the sidelines. Clapping, shouting, and then high-fiving any time one of the girls makes a move toward the goal.
“I think so,” I say, my eyes moving to my sister, watching her as she follows the ball, her stance ready for the moment it comes her way.
I’ll never forget the look on Georgie’s face when Anderson asked if she would be okay with him adopting her—the pure confusion was hilarious, and her response was nothing we could have prepared for.
I thought you already did, she said.
Turns out, she thought that us being married meant that when I adopted her, Anderson automatically did too.
The three of us laughed until tears were streaming down our faces, and then we laughed even harder because of how sleep-deprived we all were.
It wasn’t until we finally settled down that Anderson explained that it didn’t really work that way, but he was going to take what she said as a “yes.”
The moment was everything I didn’t know I needed, the same way Anderson has been that for me since the moment he knocked on my door that Valentine’s Day night all those months ago.
And it was so perfect for us. No grand gesture, no angels singing in the clouds, no earth-shattering revelation. Just us.
“Look who finally showed up!” Rumi’s voice cuts into my thoughts, bringing me back to the moment. I turn to find Emerson, her shiny black hair blowing in the wind as she closes the distance between us, the three of us pulling each other in for a group hug.
“Hi, cutie pie.” Emerson leans down, pressing a kiss to a sleeping Eliana’s forehead. She turns toward the field, cupping her hands around her mouth before yelling, “Go, George!”
Georgie’s gaze flies to us, her hands waving above her head as a grin spreads across her face when she sees Emerson.
“God, I’ve missed her,” Emerson says before turning back to Rumi and me. “And I’ve missed you, bitches.”
We all laugh before falling into conversation, the three of us catching up on what we’re all up to, even though there’s not much we haven’t talked about in our group chat or over FaceTime.
The final whistle blows, and the girls run toward Georgie, meeting her at the goal with smiles on their faces as they celebrate their last win of another undefeated season.
Anderson and Jack join them, offering each of the girls more high fives before they all line up to shake hands with the opposing team.
“The gang’s all here, huh?” Anderson says as he, Georgie, Jack, and Evee make their way over to us.
As the coaches and the coaches’ daughters, they’re the last on the field—the rest of the team and their families all already heading toward the parking lot.
Anderson presses a kiss to my cheek before peeking into the carrier to see a sleeping Eliana.
“We missed you, Em,” he adds, wrapping his arms around Emerson and bringing her in for a hug.
“Wouldn’t miss this,” I hear Emerson whisper to him, and I lift my brow.
“Is she awake?” Georgie asks, pulling my attention before I can ask what she means.
I shake my head, holding my hand up. “Great end to the season, kiddo.” Georgie claps her palm against mine. “How do you want to celebrate?”
Georgie cocks her head to the side, looking at me like I just asked her the world’s most stupid question.
I roll my eyes. “Ice cream it is. Are we meeting the team there?”
“Um,” Georgie says, turning to look at Anderson, who gives her a wink. One that feels oddly out of place. “Yeah, we are,” Georgie finally answers, but her voice goes high—like it does when she’s hiding something.
I look between her and my husband before my eyes roam to Rumi and Emerson and then Jack. They all look at me like I’m the crazy one before Emerson pulls Georgie in and the two of them begin walking toward the parking lot, causing the rest of us to follow.
Easy conversation fills the air, and I swear it’s like my heart just continues to double in size to account for the love I have for these people—even if they’re all acting like they're in on a secret that I’m not allowed to know.
And it isn’t until Anderson cuts the engine outside an empty ice cream shop—the one we were parked at when I told him I loved him for the first time, that I finally ask, “Okay, what the hell is going on? There’s no one else here.”
Anderson doesn’t say anything. Neither does Georgie from where she sits in the backseat next to Eliana in her car seat.
I turn to look at her over my shoulder, and she’s practically buzzing with excitement.
And when I look back at Anderson, I understand why.
In his hand, he holds a matchbox, and I recognize the logo but can’t quite place it. It wasn’t in that bag I found in his T-shirt drawer the night before I went into labor, or one of the ones we’ve collected since then.
And then it hits me.
“Is that—” I can’t even finish the question, my hand going to my mouth and tears immediately filling my eyes.
Anderson nods, a smile on his face, but I can see the cloudiness in his gaze.
“I didn’t even see those at the Little White Chapel,” I whisper, more to myself than to him.
“I’ve been saving it,” Anderson admits before opening his car door and rounding the car.
He opens my door, and I unbuckle my seat belt, turning to face him as he lowers down on one knee.
He’s still in his backwards hat and Coach Montgomery sweatshirt, like he came straight from the sidelines and somehow wandered into forever.
Georgie’s still in her sweaty uniform, shin guards probably digging into her calves, grass stains on her knees.
And Eliana is due for her next bottle any minute now if the restless little noises coming from the backseat are any indication.
Everything about this moment is rumpled and rushed and gloriously unplanned.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Ava,” Anderson starts, his voice low and unsteady in a way I’ve almost never heard from him, but I don’t let him say more. Because the look in his eyes—wide and vulnerable and so full of love it steals my breath—is answer enough.
“Yes.”
The word falls out of me before he can even ask, instinctive as breathing.
“Oh, come on,” Georgie exclaims from behind me. “At least let him say his piece. Seriously, I think he practiced a million times.”
She lets out a dramatic groan, and I hear her head thunk against the back of her seat just as Eliana begins making soft, impatient cries from her car seat.
The sound makes me laugh through the tears already stinging my eyes.
Of course this is how it happens.
Not candlelight. Not some sweeping grand gesture.
A crying baby. A backseat commentator. My heart is trying to pound its way out of my chest.
Us.
Anderson shakes his head, smiling like he can’t believe this is his life either.
“You know what,” he says, reaching into the Little White Chapel matchbox and opening it with slightly trembling fingers. “This works too.”
My breath catches. Inside are not one, but two rings.
With the craziness of our lives this last year, rings were never a priority, not even after our marriage turned out to be real. And when I was pregnant, my fingers were so swollen, it seemed stupid to get a ring I wouldn’t even be able to wear.
His hand finds mine, warm and familiar, and when he slides the engagement ring onto my finger—a sunburst diamond that catches even the dim light in the car and throws it back at me—I let out a tiny gasp.
A sun.
Of course he chose a sun.
Because he listened. Because he remembers everything. Because he once let me tell him he was the sun, and somehow he turned that into this.
My vision blurs.
“But at least let me ask, love.”
His voice cracks on the last word.
Then he slides the second ring onto my finger.
And I break.
It’s a simple gold band, but set into it are four stones—different colors, different lights.
Mine.
His.
Georgie’s.
Eliana’s.
Our family wrapped around my finger.
Our future made into something I can have with me, every second of every day.
To remind myself that my dreams—ones I didn’t even know I had—came true.
I press my free hand over my mouth, trying—and failing—not to cry.
Anderson gives me that soft, wrecked smile I know means he’s barely holding it together, too. “Will you marry me?”
I nod because if I try to speak, it’ll just come out as sobs.
Yes.
Yes in every lifetime.
Yes in every version of us.
Yes.
I throw my arms around his shoulders and pull him to me, kissing him with everything I have—the gratitude, the relief, the wonder of being loved this completely.
His hand cradles my jaw as his mouth curves against mine, and I can taste his smile.
Somewhere in the background, I hear Georgie’s car door slam. “He messed it all up!” she yells to who I can only assume is Rumi, Emerson, and Jack, scandalized in the most Georgie way possible, and Eliana’s cries grow louder. I laugh against Anderson’s lips, feeling his laughter answer mine.
“Wait,” I say, confusion taking over. “But as far as she knows, we already did this. Same with our friends.” Even after all this time, we never let anyone else in on how our marriage actually came to be—it’s a secret we keep just for the two of us.
Anderson grins, that carefree smile will never not give me butterflies. “I told them all that I never actually got to propose like I wanted, in a way you deserved, because of how quickly everything moved with the adoption. And this was my way of making up for it.”
I raise a brow. “And they all bought it?”
“Georgie and Rumi were too excited about being involved to ask questions. And you know Jack,” Anderson explains, both stories checking out. “On the other hand,” he starts, “Em had her suspicions, but when I mentioned we had some of our own when it came to her and her new employer, she let them go.”
I shake my head, my cheeks aching from how big my smile is.
Anderson leans towards me, pressing his forehead against mine. “G is right, though. I did have a speech,” he murmurs.
I laugh, wiping tears from my cheeks. “I don’t doubt that.”
“It was good, too.” His thumb catches another tear before it falls.
“I’m sure it was.”
And suddenly I’m struck with this aching, impossible fullness.
This man. This life.
This backseat full of daughters. Our daughters.
These friends who have become our family.
This perfectly imperfect moment.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.