Epilogue #2
“Let me get this out while I still have the nerve.” His thumbs brush across my cheekbones, catching tears I didn’t realize were falling.
“When June comes, when they call my name and ship me off to whatever city pulls my number out of a hat, the first thing I’m doing is finding a place. And you’ll have a key from day one.”
The key sits in my palm, such a small thing to carry such enormous weight. But that’s Mike, taking my biggest fears and breaking them down into tangible promises. Not a ring that says forever when we’re still becoming who we’ll be. Not a vow to never leave, because that’s not how his world works.
Just a key that says you’ll always have a place with me .
“I’m asking you to be my home team,” he continues, and his voice cracks just enough to make my chest ache. “My person. The one who has the key to wherever I am, whenever you need it or want it or just miss me too much to stay away.”
The words come out on a sob that tastes like pure joy. “Yes. God, yes.”
He kisses me then, deep and desperate and full of promises that don’t need words.
His hands tangle in my hair, and I melt into him, into this moment, into the absolute certainty that whatever comes next, we’ll face it together.
And when we finally break apart, we’re both covered in snow, and my toes have gone numb in my boots, but I’ve never felt warmer.
“Should we go back in?” I ask, though I make no move to leave the circle of his arms.
“In a minute.” He pulls me close again, chin resting on my head. “I just want to remember this exact moment.”
When we finally go back inside, the warmth hits like a wall. My dad glances up from where he’s mediating what appears to be a full-scale cookie decoration war between Hazel and Maine, takes in our joined hands and snow-covered hair, and gives me the smallest nod.
Just that—a tiny acknowledgment that says he sees us, that he approves, that his daughter found someone who’ll give her keys instead of cages. And, a second later, Andy materializes at my elbow while Mike gets pulled into judging the cookie contest.
“Did my brother just give you jewelry?” She eyes my clenched fist with laser focus. “Because if he went ring shopping without me, I’m going to murder him.”
I open my hand to show her the key. “Not quite...”
Understanding dawns across her face in stages—confusion, recognition, then something soft and knowing. “Oh,” she breathes. “Oh, that’s perfect. That’s the most Mike thing I’ve ever seen. You know he’s completely gone for you, right? Like, embarrassingly, write-terrible-poetry-about-it gone.”
“We’re going to be OK,” I say, testing the words, tasting their truth.
“Of course you are.” Andy loops her arm through mine with easy familiarity, which we’ve come to share since becoming friends. “Look at Dec and me. Paris is a hell of a lot farther than any NHL city, and we’re thriving. Well, exhausted and slightly insane from time zones, but thriving.”
“How?” The question escapes before I can swallow it back. “How do you stand it? The not knowing when you’ll see each other next, the time differences, the?—“
“The loving someone so much that distance becomes just another fact, like their height or middle name?” Andy finishes.
“You schedule dates over video calls. You send too many texts about nothing. You save up all your stories for three-hour phone calls. You treasure every visit like it’s Christmas morning. ”
She squeezes my arm, then leans in with a conspiratorial whisper. “Plus, think about the reunion sex. Absolutely elite tier. Like, clear-your-whole-weekend, warn-the-neighbors level amazing.”
“Andy!”
“What? I’m just saying, absence makes the penis grow harder. It’s science.”
“That’s not how the saying goes!”
“It is in my extensive personal research.”
We dissolve into the kind of laughter that makes your stomach hurt, and I realize this is what I’ve been missing. Not just Mike’s family becoming mine, and mine becoming his, but having a friend who understands the specific ache of loving someone whose dreams might carry them away.
Someone who knows that letting them go isn’t about loving them less—it’s about loving them enough to grow alongside their ambitions instead of despite them.
Author’s note:
Well, that’s a wrap on Mike and Sophie’s story… though you can bet they’ll turn up again as the series rolls on!
Thank you so much for picking up this book—I’m so grateful for every single reader who joins me on these journeys.
Ready for more?
Don’t stop now. In The Beautiful Collision , Maya and Maine square off to see who’s the biggest peacock on campus… and discover that beneath all the performance, they’re both hiding a creamy center.
It’s fiery, funny, and full of heart—you can grab it HERE .
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Until next time—love deeply, laugh loudly, and dance like nobody’s watching.
Clara West