Epilogue – One Year Later
Harper
The arena is loud. So much louder than college games ever were. The crowd is bigger, the energy is more intense, and the stakes feel higher even though it's just a regular season game.
I'm wearing Cole's jersey—his professional jersey now, with his new team's logo—and I can't stop smiling.
A year ago, we were stuck in midterms, not sure where life would take us.
Now we're here. Cole is playing professional hockey, and I'm sitting in the family section of an NHL arena watching him live his dream.
My phone buzzes. A text from Maddie.
Maddie: Tell him to score a goal so I can win my bet with Sirus.
Maddie: I said he'd score in the first period tonight. Sirus said he wouldn’t. $50 is on the line.
I laugh and send back a fingers-crossed emoji.
The game is intense. Cole's line is fast, aggressive, and I can see him out there doing what he does best. He's different now than he was in college—more confident, more polished, but still the same guy who made me fall in love with him.
I think back to when I was so sure that chaos and intensity meant love. That the harder something was, the more real it must be.
But Cole taught me different. He taught me that love can be steady and strong. That choosing someone every day is more romantic than any grand gesture. That peace is better than passion that burns you out.
The first period ends and he doesn’t make a goal.
The second period starts, and Cole's line is on the ice. He's got the puck, weaving through defenders like they're standing still. He passes to his winger, who shoots and misses. The puck bounces back to Cole, and he's right in front of the net.
He shoots.
Goal.
The arena erupts. I'm on my feet screaming, along with everyone else in the family section. Cole's teammates mob him on the ice, and when he finally breaks free, he looks up at the stands and points directly at me.
My heart squeezes so tight I can barely breathe.
Me: Does scoring in the first couple minutes of second period count?
Maddie: Yes!
After the game, I wait outside the locker room with the other wives and girlfriends. They're nice, welcoming, asking about my job and if I'm adjusting to the city okay. I am adjusting. Better than I expected, actually.
My marketing job is challenging but good. I'm learning a lot, working with interesting clients, building a career I'm proud of. And at the end of every day, I get to come home to Cole. To our apartment. To our life.
Cole finally emerges from the locker room, hair still damp, wearing his suit. He looks good. Professional. Grown up.
He walks straight to me and kisses me, ignoring the cameras and the other people around us.
"Congratulations on your first game," I say against his lips.
"I told you I'd score for you."
"You did."
He takes my hand and leads me toward the exit, but instead of heading to the parking garage, he steers us toward a quieter hallway.
"Where are we going?"
"Just... come with me."
We end up in a small alcove, away from the crowds and cameras. He's nervous, I realize. His hand is slightly sweaty in mine, and he keeps running his other hand through his hair.
"Cole, what's going on?"
He takes a breath, then drops to one knee.
My heart stops.
"Harper, I had a whole speech planned, but I'm forgetting all of it, so I'm just going to say this.
" He pulls out a ring box from his jacket pocket.
"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me.
You make me laugh, you challenge me, you make me want to be better.
And I know we've been through hell, but we made it.
We chose each other. And I want to keep choosing you for the rest of my life. "
Tears are streaming down my face.
"Will you marry me?"
"Yes," I say immediately. "Yes, yes, yes."
He stands and slides the ring onto my finger, then kisses me so hard he lifts me off my feet. I'm crying and laughing at the same time, and somewhere in the back of my mind, I'm thinking about how far we've come.
From that first blind date to this moment.
From uncertainty to absolute certainty.
From choosing safety over chaos to realizing that Cole was always going to be my choice.
Later that night, back in our apartment, we're lying on the couch. Cole is scrolling through his phone, probably reading congratulatory messages about the game and the engagement. I'm staring at my ring, still not quite believing this is real.
"Hey, look at this," Cole says, turning his phone toward me.
It's Instagram. Liam's account. He posted a photo—him and a brunette woman, both smiling, her hand on his chest.
The caption reads: New city, new start, new chapter.
"He looks happy," I say.
"He does."
"Do you miss him?"
Cole thinks about it. "Sometimes. I miss who we used to be. But I don't miss the fighting or the tension or any of that shit." He sets his phone down and pulls me closer. "You know what I do miss?"
"What?"
"Absolutely nothing. I have everything I need right here."
I roll my eyes. "That was so corny."
"But true."
"But corny."
He kisses the top of my head. "You're stuck with me now. You said yes."
"I did say yes."
"No take-backs."
"No take-backs," I agree.
We fall asleep on the couch like that, the ring heavy and perfect on my finger. In the morning, we'll call our families and tell them the news. We'll start planning a wedding. We'll figure out logistics and timelines and all the practical things that come with building a life together.
But tonight, we just exist in this moment. Engaged. Happy. Exactly where we're supposed to be.
I think about the girl I was two years ago, sitting in that restaurant trying to decide if I should sprint out of that double date with Maddie and Sirus.
It makes me smile now, thinking about how anxious I was about making the wrong choice.
But I almost missed the point that there is no perfect choice.
There's just the person you choose and the commitment you make to keep choosing them.
I chose Cole. And every day since, I've chosen him again.
And tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that, I'll keep choosing him.
That's what love is. Not the butterflies or the racing heart or the dramatic declarations. It's the quiet, steady choice to stay. To build. To grow together instead of apart.
Cole's arm tightens around me in his sleep, and I smile.
Yeah. I definitely chose right.
THE END
Thank you so much for reading!
Read Don't Puck The Wrong Brother Here.