EPILOGUE
EMERALD
MINNESOTA
JUNE - TWO YEARS LATER
The buzzer blares, signaling the end of the game.
My eyes fly to the score. 3–2.
The arena erupts, and Hayden, dressed in Tornadoes Blue and Gray, tosses his helmet off and roars.
And for good reason, because the Twin City Tornadoes just won the Cup.
His teammates celebrate behind him, hugging each other, pounding their chests. The home crowd around me roars so loud I can feel it in my bones. Christopher, sitting between Samantha and me, launches to his feet so fast his little rally towel smacks me in the face on the way up.
"We won!" he shrieks, bouncing in place. "Daddy won! Uncle Hayden won!"
A laughing Samantha grabs the back of Christopher’s LITTLE WARD Tornadoes jersey to steady him before he can fall. She’s wearing a matching one, MRS. WARD stitched proudly across the back, just like my MRS. SAWYER jersey.
Hayden and Jace gave them to us on Christmas and shared the most self-satisfied fist bump in history when we opened them.
I laugh, warmth and pride flooding me, tears of joy sliding hot down my cheeks as I turn back to the ice.
Hayden and his teammates swarm each other around him, pounding helmets, tackling each other into hugs. But his eyes are all for me. I'm pretty sure I could move seats multiple times through the game, and Hayden would always be able to find me.
His grin is so wide and handsome it steals the air from my lungs. He presses his palm over his heart and points—claiming me.
"I love you, Emerald!"
Somehow, his bellow cuts through the chaos and reaches me.
I blow him kisses and mouth back, "I love you."
After the handshake line—Frank is very strict about sportsmanship, and I mean that fondly—Hayden steps away from his teammates and heads at a run toward me in the stands. Jace follows, making a beeline for Samantha and Christopher.
"Baby!" Hayden bellows, leaping over the boards with a grace not usually given to someone his size.
I step into the aisle as Hayden barrels up the stairs toward me. Fans clap his shoulder and shout congratulations as he passes, but nobody blocks his path.
"Hey, Haymaker," I tease when he reaches me, pitching my voice high like a sportscaster and holding an imaginary microphone between us. "How does it feel to win the Cup?"
Hayden keeps his eyes on mine, bright blue and fierce, as he closes the last bit of distance between us.
"Nothing could ever come close to this ," he breathes, sweeping me into his arms and crashing his lips onto mine, joy.
Public. In front of the whole world.
This isn’t just a kiss—it’s a public vow. I hope every cruel voice, every sneering puck bunny, every person who blamed me in Boston sees this .
Hayden twirls me around the narrow space as the cheers grow deafening, but no one tries to step between us, no one interrupts to ask Hayden for an autograph, or a picture, or to sign their breasts.
They let us have this.
And that's why, every single day, I never regret encouraging Hayden to return to professional hockey.
He missed it. I saw it when we skated around together at the rink, just the two of us on the ice, and he'd get that look in his eyes—that sad, aching longing for something he once loved.
It was never hockey itself. It was everything wrapped around it that turned toxic.
In Iceland, in a place made of magic, I wished for Hayden to be able to return to hockey. I politely asked the little elves to make it happen for him. And they did.
Or, well, maybe the former coach retiring after his doctor told him his blood pressure would kill him if he didn't drastically reduce stress had more to do with it.
Still, I'm not ruling the elves out.
Samantha, Victoria, and I watch as our husbands receive their trophy, and Jace is named MVP—much deserved. Jace's eyes fill with tears when they announce it, and the first person he looks for is Samantha, holding Christopher in her lap and smiling proudly at her husband.
"He worked so hard," Samantha says, laughing through her tears as she wipes them away. "He just wanted another shot, and now look at him."
I smile, leaning down to hug my best friend tightly, blowing a raspberry into a giggling Christopher's cheek.
After Frank called Jace, the Wards sat down and spoke for a long time.
Samantha called me, and we talked for a while as she vented, weighing pros and cons.
She was hesitant for him to return to the sport that reminded her of the most traumatic time of their marriage.
But, like me, she saw how Jace missed it.
How it was stolen from him. How he needed this.
She told me later they stayed up all night talking. Because the trust between them had been rebuilt, because she knew with absolute certainty that he would never make the same mistakes again, she told him to say yes.
And when we got back from Iceland, our husbands started training. Hard.
Every day on the ice, in the weight room, running drills, working with trainers. When the official training camp ended, both made the team.
Hayden slipped back in like he never left, and Jace was welcomed with open arms.
Jace stepped right back into a leadership role on the ice, a role the team had been missing since Frank became the coach.
The team voted unanimously to name him captain, Hayden being his loudest advocate.
When they showed Jace the captain's patch on his jersey, he cried, and I think something in him healed right there.
The first game of the season had been emotional, too.
Hayden had been nervous the night before, lying in bed next to me and staring at the ceiling while worrying about the reception he'd get, whether he'd be able to keep up, and whether hockey still wanted him back even if the team did.
"Are you happy to be back playing hockey?" I'd asked him.
Hayden had turned to me and smiled. "Yeah. I really am. I missed it, Em."
"Then who gives a fuck what anybody else thinks?"
His laugh had boomed through our quiet bedroom.
"Have I told you that I love your mind, baby? "
"Once or twice," I'd shrugged, winking. "But three times never hurt."
Hayden rolled on top of me, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer.
"I'll tell you every day for the rest of our lives. I love my brilliant—" kiss "—beautiful—" kiss "—wife's mind."
And when Hayden and Jace skated onto the ice that first night, no one was prepared for what happened.
Five full minutes of every single fan in the Tornadoes arena on their feet, clapping and yelling and welcoming them back to hockey.
The first season back had been good—great, even.
They made a deep playoff run and, more importantly, learned how to play together. A rebuilding season with real promise.
This season, the Tornadoes moved like a hive mind.
And now they're champions.
After the trophy ceremony, back by the locker rooms, Hayden, Frank, and Jace come racing out for us. You can hear the muffled celebrations of the other guys on the team, spraying champagne on each other, dancing, and yelling like crazy.
Jace walks right to Samantha and kisses her hard, leaving his MVP trophy on the ground behind him. I hear him quietly mutter, probably about Samantha being his real prize, while Christopher covers his eyes and groans, "Ew!"
"You'll understand one day, buddy," Frank laughs. His oldest daughter naps on his shoulder as he pulls Victoria, holding their youngest, into his side. "Nothing better."
"Coach, can we get a word?"
Keeping his family in his arms, Frank walks right over to the reporters for his interview.
I'm swept up in Hayden's arms, his usual scent mixed with a little bit of sweat, showing he didn't even wait to shower before seeing me. I can't help but think of that December and how different our lives are now.
Same sport, but different culture.
Better environment.
Hayden signed a three-year contract with the Tornadoes, so Minnesota is home for now. Jace and Samantha live in the same building we do, which means when the boys are on the road, and I stay behind, Samantha and Christopher come over to keep me company.
Sometimes we order Chinese takeout and watch movies like girls having a sleepover. Sometimes Victoria drives over with her girls, and we all crowd into the living room like a family.
I'm never lonely. Not like I was in Boston.
And during the off-season, we always go home to Ann Arbor.
We still run Emerald’s City Ice Arena from afar. My parents hosted a watch party there tonight and sent us pictures of kids and parents crowded around the projector my dad set up. Ruby and Ramirez are there too, living in our Ann Arbor house and pretending that it's just casual.
Life is steady and safe.
Hayden has worked so hard—been so consistent, so intentional—about proving our marriage comes first. Every single time. There are no last-minute brand deals, no blurred boundaries, no manager controlling his life, no fan harassment.
It's just us.
"You did it," I murmur against his lips.
"We did it," he corrects, because in Hayden's mind, we are a team before anything else.
Hayden now has a manager, an agent, and a publicist—all separate.
Ruby is his agent again, and he shares a sharp, reliable publicist with Jace.
His manager, though, is the truly vicious one.
"As your manager," I say, clearing my throat when Hayden's grin turns downright sinful. He likes it when I call myself that. "Since you're a champion now, I think we should discuss the future."
"Oh?" Hayden raises an eyebrow, his hand rubbing up and down my back in that way that makes me purr. He always says Merry and Pippin take after me. "Are we talking a raise? I think you're very deserving."
I laugh, "No, I'm speaking more about... expansion . Of the team."
Hayden frowns and tilts his head, completely confused.
"The team?"
"Our team."
When he still looks at me blankly, I laugh and guide his hands to rest against my belly, holding them there so he can feel what I mean.
He blinks.
Looks at my stomach. Looks at my face. Back to my stomach. Back to me.
My smile grows until it's wide enough to split my face. I'm giggling as clarity finally strikes him.
We've always talked about having kids.
We love babysitting Christopher for Jace and Samantha on their date nights.
We felt secure enough in Minnesota and stopped all precautions, but I went to the OB/GYN when the tests remained negative.
My doctor said that sometimes, when you try so hard, and you’re nonstop thinking about it, it doesn't happen .
So we stopped thinking about it so much.
Not thinking about it made me not pay attention to my sore boobs, delayed period, and weight gain. These are all symptoms I've experienced before from endometriosis.
And something Victoria and Samantha said to me at lunch last week made me pause.
"Are you using a new moisturizer?" Samantha asked.
"No."
"New makeup?" Victoria asked.
"No," I said. "Why?"
They exchanged a look.
"Because," Samantha said slowly, "you are glowing like an angel right now."
"Wait," Victoria said, eyes dropping to my stomach. "Are you...?"
Three tests.
Two pink lines on each of them.
One very big surprise.
I had hoped to top off his victory with this news, or maybe take off the sting of a loss by walking away with the win that matters.
My husband's gorgeous blue eyes go soft.
"A baby?" he whispers, hands pressing into my belly a little more.
I nod, already crying. "A baby."
Hayden collapses to his knees, hugging me around the waist.
"Emerald, baby..." he murmurs, pressing kisses to my stomach. "Thank you, thank you, thank you..."
I laugh, leaning down to kiss his sweaty hair. "I seem to remember you contributing to this effort."
He bounces up, cradling my face.
"And you're doing all the work," he says, voice breaking. "I just get to reap the benefits. You are not doing a damn thing for the next nine months. I'm going to be so annoying, you're gonna flip me off at least twice a day."
I laugh and wrap my arms around his waist as he drops his forehead to mine.
"I love you, Emerald. You are the greatest joy in my life."
His hand slides down to my belly, reverent.
"You. And this baby."
I tilt my head up and chase his lips. No need. He's already there, and we collide, his lips soft and sweet, moving against mine tenderly.
"I love you, Hayden. So much," I murmur against his mouth, before clearing my throat and pulling back. My tone is prim when I say, "And, now we enter into negotiations."
Hayden chuckles. "Oh, yeah?"
"Names."
"Oh," Hayden pecks my lips once more. "And do you have some ideas, Mrs. Sawyer?"
"Many, Mr. Sawyer."
"Can't wait to hear them—"
"Haymaker, you're coming out with us tonight?"
I look over Hayden's shoulder and see a group of his teammates—mostly the younger single guys—already showered and dressed, with puck bunnies hovering eagerly on the edges.
Hayden doesn't even hesitate.
His arm tightens around my waist. "Nope. I've got my own celebration to attend."
"Mrs. Sawyer, come on!" Jake, the youngest on the team, begs. "Can Hayden come out and play?"
I flinch slightly at those words, and Hayden feels it. They didn't mean anything by it. They don't know my triggers, but they still reappear every now and again.
I'm still vigilant when I step out of the house. I don't like it when people approach me from behind and tap my shoulder. And I lock my door when I'm alone, even when Hayden is just running downstairs to take out the trash.
Therapy helps. Hayden helps. My family and friends help. It still lingers sometimes, but it doesn't own me anymore.
"I said no thank you," Hayden says, a little more firmly this time. I watch as some of the guys straighten up at the firm tone. "You kids go have fun."
They nod, arms wrapping around puck bunnies as they head toward the private parking lot. Hayden presses a kiss to my temple, and I'm thankful he doesn't ask if I'm okay.
He knows what I need.
Presence.
"Let's go home," I say with a smile, tipping my chin up for one more kiss.
Before his lips meet mine, Hayden lets out a soft, happy sigh.
"I'm already there."