Chapter 48
Forty-Eight
That spring, the Spirit made a Cinderella run to the semifinals.
Cassie chronicled it from the booth, her voice carrying the pace and joy of women’s hockey to thousands of homes.
Luke came to almost every home game when his schedule allowed, sitting quietly in the stands or leaning against the glass during warmups.
He learned to appreciate the differences—the creativity, the space, the way the game breathed differently.
He signed autographs for little girls wearing Spirit jerseys who knew him less as the Renegades’ new captain, and more as “Cassie’s boyfriend,” and he found he liked that version of himself just fine.
Their relationship, once hidden behind ethics and fear, settled into something public and steady.
They bought a house in Cranberry with a big backyard that filled with light in the afternoons.
Cassie kept up her Pilates and started teaching a weekly broadcasting class at Point Park.
Luke grew his hair even longer; Cassie teased him relentlessly about looking like he belonged on a concert poster instead of a blue line.
They argued about paint colors and grocery lists and who forgot to lock the back door, and somehow those small disagreements felt like proof they’d made it through the hard part.
One quiet night, almost exactly a year after the Cup, they sat on the back steps after dinner, shoes kicked off, the air humming faintly around them.
Cassie rested her head on Luke’s shoulder, familiar and easy, the way she always did when her thoughts finally slowed.
Luke wrapped an arm around her and stared out at the yard, watching the porch light flicker on.
“I’ve been thinking about something,” he said.
Cassie lifted her head slightly but didn’t move away. “That usually means you’ve already decided.”
He smiled at that, then sobered. “I spent most of my life believing everything was temporary. Teams, cities, seasons. You don’t unpack too much because you’re always leaving again.” He glanced down at her. “You changed that.”
Her breath caught, just barely.
“I don’t want to wait for some perfect moment,” he continued. “Or another milestone. I don’t want to keep acting like this is something that could disappear.” He shifted, turning fully toward her, and reached into his pocket—not nervously, but deliberately.
Cassie stared at the small box in his hand, her mind momentarily blank.
“I love you,” Luke said simply. “And I want this to be the part of my life that stays.”
He opened the box. The ring was understated, intentional—chosen the same way he chose everything that mattered now.
“Marry me.”
Cassie didn’t laugh or cry right away. She just looked at him, really looked, taking in the man who had learned restraint for her, who had waited when waiting mattered, who had never asked her to give anything up. Then she exhaled, something uncoiling in her chest.
“Yes,” she said, voice steady despite the tears in her eyes. “I want that. I want you.”
Luke slid the ring onto her finger, hands finally betraying the slightest tremor. Cassie leaned into him, burying her face into chest, and he held her there as the night settled in around them—just taking in the quiet certainty that this was the life they had fought for, and chosen, together.