Endgame

Epilogue

ABOUT TWO AND A HALF YEARS LATER

ELLIE

“I’m calling it.”

“But this was your idea.”

“I know,” he huffs.

There’s something about a grumbling Matt that just makes me want to laugh. I curl my lips around my teeth to keep them from stretching wide.

My foot wobbles again and Matt curses. “We should’ve gotten you hockey skates,” he says quietly as he tightens his grip on my hands, pulling me toward the exit. His eyes dart from my face to my stomach and then back.

It’s mostly cute how worried he is, but this was his idea, as I already pointed out. And I don’t think the type of skates would make a difference.

“But these are so prettyyy.” I drag out the word and attempt to point my toe out to the side.

The action makes me falter again and Matt stops his backward skating to scoop me up until he’s got me, bridal style.

The figure skates are pretty and they looked way cuter than the bulky ones Matt showed me online.

I kick them out to admire them in the air.

Guess I won’t be using them. “I think you’re overreacting, you know,” I tell him.

I didn’t even care about learning to skate, but Matt was the one who wanted to go tonight and teach me.

“I’m not used to thinking about the ice as such a fall risk.”

“Are you serious?” I laugh. “It’s freaking ice! It’s like the definition of slippery.”

He grunts in response as we get through the rink exit and he brings us over to a bench.

The outdoor rink is lit up with string lights and garlands draped in red bows, painting a dreamy holiday picture.

Of course Matt found one walking distance from our apartment and paid to have it closed to the public for a night. Because he continues to be perfect.

“Well the people I skate with normally aren’t so…” Matt hesitates. “Wobbly. No offense.”

Almost perfect. At least he looks sheepish.

“Thanks,” I mutter as he gently sets me down next to him.

I bend over to untie the mostly unused skates, but Matt grabs my hand to stop me.

He gets off the bench and kneels in front of me to take them off himself.

“Matt, I’m not even pregnant. This is ridiculous.

I can untie my own skates. And it would’ve even been okay if I fell. ”

“You might be though, and I’m not risking it.”

We’re in our second month of trying to get pregnant, but Matt is treating every day since the first day we tried as though I already am. And despite my reassurances—backed with medical evidence, mind you—he can’t seem to shake the habit. My period isn’t even due for another few days.

“Even if I was, I’d be barely four weeks along. That’s the size of a poppy seed, babe. A poppy seed. And that’s a big if anyway. I don’t want you getting your hopes up too much.”

Matt stops loosening my skates and looks up at me, an indulgent smile on his handsome face.

“I promise my hopes are in check.” He leans in to give me a chaste kiss before finishing removing my skates and slipping my sneakers on.

After he’s got his off and all of our stuff in the bag, he shoulders it and we head back to our apartment.

Pretty much the entire summer after the story broke a couple years ago, Matt lived out of my apartment.

It took him two months of that to ask me how I felt about getting a bigger place together.

It took another month to find the perfect spot.

And it was on the day we said goodbye to my apartment—which had been fully emptied by then—that Matt proposed.

My little apartment was filled with so many candles when we walked in that I was worried the sprinklers would go off.

He even flew my dad and Zoey in for the surprise celebration that night at The Bar.

I still can’t think about that day without getting choked up.

It was just…the best day. I think the wedding has been the only day that’s topped it.

Our new place is much bigger than my one-bedroom, but still just as charming. And still walking-distance from the hospital, thank god. It’s part of what took us so long to find it.

Matt said we could sell his house over on the lake since I don’t want to commit to a commute yet, but I wanted to keep it for visitors and his younger teammates. And maybe for the future.

I also decided to see a new therapist after we got engaged, which has been going pretty well.

We’ve made a little progress on driving with some forced practice, and a lot of progress on everything else.

She even encouraged me to try and make friends with some other players’ wives (I still can’t believe I’m a WAG, albeit now a retired one—if that’s a thing) and go to an occasional game.

Which meant I was able to attend some of Matt’s last big milestones and his final game with some support.

It was important to me to be there for that.

I still have bad days, of course. Days where I can’t get out of bed.

Our wedding was bittersweet in that way— it was hard getting up, knowing my mom wouldn’t be celebrating with us.

The day was so full of joy and sadness at the same time.

She should’ve been there. I wanted her with me more than anything.

But I find myself happy above all else most days. Because of my job, my life, my friends and family.

My Matt.

And I can’t ask for much more than that.

I grip his hand tighter and let him lead me home.

MATT

I may have lied to Ellie at the rink earlier today.

My hopes are not in check. In fact, they are so far out of check it’s probably unhealthy.

But it’s been over two years since our first conversation about kids.

Two years where the idea of a family with Ellie grew from a tiny seed (ha) to something much bigger and wholly consuming.

Not even my final season of hockey this past year could fully distract me.

And now all this damn poppy seed talk has me brainstorming as we eat dinner at our apartment, about ways to ask her to take a test tonight.

I don’t even think she thought about it, but she said I was too rough while having fun with her tits last night.

Tits I am very well acquainted with and would never dream of being too rough with.

I’m one hundred percent sure I was actually more gentle than normal.

Because of the aforementioned hopes and all that.

So I think we should just check. If I can convince her without making it obvious I lied about being chill.

Ice cream.

A little light bulb goes on in my head. Ice cream is always the answer.

I set my fork on my plate and look at Ellie. “How about ice cream and a movie tonight? You can pick the movie.” I waggle my eyebrows in a silly attempt to sweeten the offer-slash-ruse.

“Sure! I think we’re out of ice cream though.” Exactly. “Are you opposed to a crime doc? There is a new one I’ve been meaning to check out.”

“Just because I don’t understand the obsession doesn’t mean I’d get in the way of it,” I joke with my hands up before standing and bringing our plates to the sink.

“I’ll run to the store to grab the ice cream.

” I kiss her on the head and then get my jacket and slip on my boots.

Thankfully there’s a store only a few minutes down the block.

When I get back I find Ellie in the bedroom putting on her pajamas. Her perfect fucking tits are out and I have to swallow a groan.

Time to stay focused. “I saw something cool at the store,” I start.

“Oh?” She puts on a large T-shirt that’s both a blessing and disappointment. It’s got a big smiley face in the center that brings me back to one of our first dates at her apartment. My chest gets tight and I almost forget the script I practiced on the walk home.

“They have these packs of pregnancy tests that, like, come in bulk. They’re strips instead of those bigger ones. That way you can test whenever you want without feeling like it’s a waste, you know?”

Ellie raises her eyebrows and grins. “And you just happened to be in the aisle with HCG tests?”

“HCG?”

“Human chorionic gonadotropin, technically. It’s what pregnancy tests are measuring.”

Ah. Shit. I try to think of what else I saw in that part of the store.

“I was getting…lube.” I feel my face heat at the lie. I didn’t think this through.

“I see. Where is it?”

“I…um…didn’t like the options,” I offer.

“Of course,” she snickers. “But yes, I’m familiar. We use something like those strips at the hospital.”

My half-assed plan is rapidly unraveling. Why didn’t I think of that? I scratch my neck and pass her the package of tests, keeping my eyes on them. “Well now you have some here. To use whenever you want.”

“Whenever I want,” Ellie repeats. “Matt.” I look up as she comes and stands directly in front of me, her head tilted up to mine.

I’m never going to get over how much I love this girl and her beautiful face. Her freckles and honey-brown eyes. Her nearly ever-present flush. Somehow I got lucky enough to make this amazing person my wife.

My wife.

My wife who’s giving me such a patient look I know I’m totally busted.

“If you want me to take a test, you have to promise me it won’t ruin your night if it’s negative. It’s really early and it’s only been two months of trying. It can take a while, and we don’t know if my fertility was affected with that procedure.”

I cross my fingers behind my back like a ten-year-old and give her a quick peck. “I promise…” …not to make it obvious I’m bummed. I make another internal promise to quit lying.

When I lean back I see her eyes squinting at me. I’m afraid this perfect person of mine can read me like a book.

“I don’t believe you, but I’ll do it anyway.” She spins away and heads for the bathroom.

And like a loyal dog, I follow along behind her.

Ellie pauses and turns, a single eyebrow raised, stopping me in my tracks. “Are you planning to watch me pee in a cup?”

Am I not supposed to? The way she’s asking makes me think I’m not.

She must see the confusion on my face because she sighs and then grabs my hand, turning back toward the bathroom.

Ellie drags me inside and shuts the door.

She releases my hand and moves to the medicine cabinet, setting the pack of tests down on the counter.

As she grabs a disposable cup, she turns to me. “Face the door.”

I open my mouth to object and then think better of it. At least she let me in here. I angle my body away from the toilet.

“Do you want to open one of those tests while you wait?”

I blindly reach to the counter next to me, feeling around until I touch the bag. Man, I really hope we don’t have to use all of these. There must be a hundred. I remove one and open the packet, revealing a narrow test strip.

When I hear the toilet flush and lid close, I turn around and hold it up for Ellie to see. “It’s so small.”

She laughs and sets the cup on the counter before grabbing the test from me. “Yep, you don’t really need much to detect HCG.” I watch as she dips the tip in and holds it for a few seconds. Then she pulls it out and balances it flat on top of the cup.

“How long should it take?”

She hums. “Maybe a couple of minutes? Let me go read the packaging.”

Ellie wanders over to the other side of me to grab the bag. I move closer to the test strip and study it as the test area darkens. One line shows up right away, I’m guessing the control line? I look at the area where there would presumably be another, but only see something faint. Damn.

“I think it’s negative. The second line is really faint. You can hardly see it,” I tell Ellie.

It’s quiet for a moment. “Second line?”

“Yeah, it’s so light compared to the other one.” I try to hide my disappointment as I straighten from my position and turn to Ellie. Her face is unusually pale and she’s staring where the test still sits over the cup on the counter. “Are you o—”

Ellie pushes past me to grab the little strip and holds it up to her face.

“Holy shit.” The words are whispered, barely audible despite the surrounding silence. And unnervingly out of the ordinary for my little non-cusser.

“Ellie?” I venture. “Did we do the test wrong?”

She ignores me and walks over to the toilet, dropping onto the closed seat. She’s still staring at the test. I follow her and peer down at it. Everything looks the same as before.

“Baby, is something wrong? We knew it would probably be negative, right?” If one of us was going to react badly to a negative test, I would’ve put money on it being me. Hence the childish crossed fingers behind my back earlier.

Ellie clears her throat. “This is…” I watch her swallow and then angle the test toward me. “It’s, um, positive.”

What? I squint at the test and see exactly the same lines as when I first looked.

One is dark and the other is just barely a line.

That can’t be positive, right? Maybe the test is faulty?

I look at Ellie and then back at the test. Then back to Ellie.

She still looks pale. Is she worried because a faint line is a bad sign?

My heart rate picks up as if my body is reacting to the news before I can even process it.

But I don’t think I even want to process it until I figure out Ellie’s reaction.

Why does my wife not look happy if the test is positive? I swallow the emotions trying to escape, and kneel in front of her. Gently taking the test from Ellie, I set it on the counter.

“Positive is good, right? You want this?”

She’s silent but she nods at me, albeit a little frantically.

“Okay, good. You’re happy then?”

“Yeah,” Ellie breathes out. “I think so?” She grabs for the test and looks it over again. “Holy shit.” The second iteration is no less jarring. “This is crazy. This is crazy, right? Oh my god, babe. How did this happen?”

“I can’t tell—”

“We’re going to have a baby!” she shouts, standing up and nearly knocking me over.

My entire chest loosens and a flood of feelings sweeps in. A baby.

She drops to her knees and turns the test around, putting it right in front of my face. “A baby!” she squeals.

I laugh and pull her to me, wrapping my arms around my favorite person in the whole entire world. I get to have a baby with Ellie. A family.

I don’t know what I did to deserve this—her—but I’m never letting go.