Chapter 52
The glow of the late afternoon sun bathes our new townhouse in warm, golden hues as I pull into the driveway. The place still has that new-home smell mixed with traces of the jasmine candles Ziggy loves. Stepping inside and being in this space with her brings me contentment. This is our sanctuary, the structure that embodies the new life we are building together here in Atlanta.
It has been a few weeks since I moved in, and every corner of the house bears signs of our combined lives. Her books mingle with my hockey memorabilia, and her vibrant art pieces are mixed among photos of my games. We have blended our worlds seamlessly.
This week is particularly exciting and nerve-wracking for me. In just a few days, I will debut as the newest studio personality on ACN, covering the hockey season. The role is a perfect fusion of my love for the game and my new passion for media, and I am eager to get started.
Settling into Atlanta, I find the anxious edges of my mind that used to be so frayed, calmer than I have ever experienced. My anxiety, a relentless companion through the highs and lows of my career, has found a soothing balm in Ziggy’s presence. I started to notice when we were together during the season but now, I now feel it in everything. It is her steady influence that calms the storms within me. As we build our life together, I realize how deeply she grounds me. Her optimism, coupled with unwavering support, helps stabilize my often turbulent thoughts.
Each morning, waking up beside her, I feel a reassuring sense of peace—a stark contrast to the solitary battles I used to fight. Our home isn’t just the place where we eat, sleep and spend time together. It is a sanctuary where my worries are met with understanding and my fears with fortitude. With Ziggy, I’m not just sharing a home; I am building a life where my anxieties are acknowledged and no longer control me.
As I step into our living room, adjusting my shirt collar, I catch Ziggy scrolling through her phone, her amused expression beautiful. I take an extra moment to observe her before interrupting her social media scrolling.
“Oren’s almost here. I’m glad you agreed to hit the town with us tonight,” I tease, watching a smile dance on her lips.
“Only because you promised to make it worth my while,” she shoots back, her eyes sparkling with her devious nature. “And because I convinced Rachel to come.”
“Yeah, at work, she said she is excited, actually. Said it’s the first real night out since the baby.” I chuckle, “whatever that means.”
I talk to Oren occasionally when we get him on as a guest host on the pod but it has been weeks since I’ve seen any of the boys. I am stoked, thinking about how much fun it’s going to be to have a little group together. Oren can make friends with anyone and Rachel has been a good friend to Ziggy, and now that we work together too, it is about time we all let loose a little, but not too loose.
The doorbell rings, signaling the arrival of my former defenseman, Oren. Opening the door, I greet him with a bear hug and hearty slap on the back. “Ready to turn this town upside down?”
Oren’s grin is all the answer I need, “Hell yeah, brother.”
"Look, man, before Ziggy comes in,” I say, pulling Oren into my office. “We need to have a little chat about something before tonight."
Oren raises an eyebrow. "What's up?"
"It’s about Rachel," I continue, my tone serious. "Under no circumstances are you to hit on her, try to take her home, or sleep with her. Got it?"
"Come on, Elliot.” Oren chuckles lightly, “I’m not going anywhere near Rachel."
"Good," I nod, relieved. "She’s been through a lot lately, and the last thing she needs is any extra drama. Plus, she’s really important to Ziggy, and you know how that goes."
Oren claps his hand on my back. "I respect that. Let’s just enjoy the night, alright?"
"Alright, man," I say with a smile. "Thanks for understanding. Let’s make it a great night."
With Rachel meeting us at The Garden Room for dinner, Ziggy, Oren and I share a quick toast at our place before we get a car to the restaurant. The city lights blur past us as we make our way to our first destination.
The evening starts off tense. Ziggy seems on edge, her usual sparkle slightly dimmed. I can tell she is worried about how Oren and Rachel will interact. Rachel, on the other hand, is unusually quiet, her excitement from earlier gone.
“Rachel, this is Oren.” I introduce her to my boy. “We played together on the Red Wolves. I’m sure your paths have crossed at work, but I'm starting from the beginning anyway.”
She gives him a grim smile, more reserved than anything that I’ve seen from her before. “We’ve met,” she says as she quickly assesses Oren.
“Hi, Rachel.” Oren says, with little conviction, as he tries his best to appear nonchalant.
“Ok, then.” I say, playing the role of peacemaker, making small talk and trying to lighten the mood talking about the damn menu. The awkwardness hangs heavily over the table like a cloud as we wait for our drinks, each of us probably questioning how the hell we’ll make it through the rest of the night.
Dinner wraps up with the same strained politeness that started when we sat down. As the plates are cleared, I glance around the table, catching the uncertain looks exchanged between Ziggy and Rachel.
"So, does everyone still want to head to the next bar, or call it a night?" I ask, hoping to put all of us out of our misery. There is a brief pause, a moment where I sense one of them might bail, but then, one by one, nods come around the table. No one wants to be the first to admit defeat.
"Yeah, let’s keep the night going," Ziggy finally says with a forced smile, and the others murmur their agreement. The decision to not let the evening end on a sour note is in motion, and we make the quick walk to the next bar in hopes of salvaging the night.
We enter The Blind Pig Parlor , the bar immediately a notch darker and more intimate than the restaurant, setting a different mood. One that I’m not sure will help the evening.
"I'll grab us a round of drinks," I announce, wanting to smooth over the earlier tension. Oren requests his usual, a whiskey neat, and Rachel opts for an espresso martini, while I know Ziggy will stick with her usual dirty martini. As I head toward the bar, Ziggy slips in beside me, her presence a welcome comfort.
"It's too awkward at the table to sit with the two of them," she whispers, her voice barely audible over the hum of conversations around us. I nod, understanding her discomfort. We lean against the bar, grateful for the momentary escape, and wait for our drink orders.
Returning to the table with our arms full of drinks, I catch the tail end of Rachel's conversation with Oren. "Let’s not go there and just move on. For everyone’s sake," she says in a tone that suggests knowledge that I am not privy to.
The statement lingers oddly in the air as Ziggy and I set the drinks down. I find it strange but decide not to dwell on it. Instead, I turn to Rachel, hoping to engage her in something light.
"So, how's the first night out feeling without the—" I begin, but before I can even finish the sentence, Rachel swiftly diverts the conversation to some recent news about mutual friends. Her deflection is smooth, almost too practiced, leaving me with more questions than answers. I exchange a glance with Ziggy, who seems just as thrown off. So, we both shift our focus to sipping our drinks, letting the conversation flow around us without pushing further.
As the evening progresses, our table finally begins to thaw. Oren excuses himself and heads toward the bar. He returns moments later, a mischievous grin on his face and a tray of tequila shots in hand.
“To new beginnings!” he declares, raising his glass.
We all cheer, clinking our glasses together before downing the shots in one swift move. Almost instantly, the mood lightens. Laughter replaces the earlier awkwardness, and the conversation flows as freely as the liquor. It is as if the tequila has washed away any remaining tension.
Even Rachel, who has been particularly guarded, seems to unwind. Maybe it was just nerves from leaving the baby at home? Now the excitement from earlier is starting to return, and her laughter rings out over the music. She laughs at something Oren says, her hand lightly touching his arm.
“Maybe those two will get along after all,” I murmur to Ziggy, nodding toward Rachel and Oren.
Ziggy smiles, her eyes following the pair. “I think she needs some no-strings fun.”
“Absolutely not.” I say with a scowl.
Back at our house, as we kick off our shoes and settle into the comfort of our bedroom, I realize how much nights like this mean. They are reminders of our life beyond the daily grind—a step back to the spontaneous adventures that we started with.
“I love you, you know,” I say, pulling Ziggy close.
“I know,” she replies, her voice soft and affectionate. “And I love you.”
Her arms wrap around my neck, lips connecting as we lose ourselves in each other. Just like we did most nights. As we drift off to sleep, the echoes of our night out linger a sweet melody that promises many more adventures to come. Together, we are unstoppable, always ready for the next chapter.
The next evening, after a long day of rehearsals and meetings at ACN, I return home to find the kitchen a disaster, but fragrant with the aroma of something delicious. Ziggy, apron-clad and gorgeous as ever, is dancing slightly to some music playing softly in the background.
“Smells amazing,” I say, coming up behind her, kissing her neck.
She laughs, turning to give me a quick peck on the lips. “Trying out a new recipe. Thought we’d celebrate your upcoming debut with a little feast.”
Dinner is a lively affair, full with her recounting tales from her day at the news station and me sharing how things are going at the studio. It is an easy exchange, this deep-seated support for each other’s careers has become the bedrock of our relationship.
After we eat, we settle down on the couch, glasses of wine in hand. I watch her, the way the light flickers in her eyes, the animated way she speaks. A profound sense of completeness washes over me.
“Zig,” I start, my voice more serious now. She looks at me, her expression shifting to one of attentiveness. “You know, every day with you is a bit like stepping onto the ice. There’s excitement, a bit of nerves, but above all, there’s this incredible sense of rightness, like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”
She smiles, leaning her head on my shoulder. “I feel that too, Elliot. Maybe not the ice part but everything else. It’s like... despite everything, we found our way back to each other.”
With a deep breath, I reach into my pocket, pulling out a small velvet box that has been living on my person for several weeks. Her eyes widen as I open it to reveal a ring.
“Ziggy, these past months, this life we’re building... I can’t imagine doing it with anyone else. I love you more than I thought possible. Will you marry me?”
For a moment, time stands still. Then, her eyes brim with tears, and a radiant smile spreads across her face. “Yes, Elliot. Yes, a thousand times yes.”
I slip the ring onto her finger before embracing her, the world around us obsolete. This is our new beginning, another chapter with my girl. A million journeys with Ziggy will never be enough.