Epilogue
Luca
EIGHTEEN MONTHS LATER
The changeroom is electrifying. Everyone is buzzing from the win that secured our spot in the play-offs.
We sing the team song with gusto, and someone pops a bottle of cheap champagne.
It’s chaos, but the good kind. The kind that makes your heart hammer in your chest, like you’re a kid again, chasing the ball under the sun.
We worked hard this season, building camaraderie and playing for each other, and its paid off.
It wasn’t easy, especially after we copped some major injury setbacks, but the fortitude and trust instilled in us by our manager helped us overcome those hurdles, and it’s not over yet.
We have two more games ahead of us, but right now, we’re riding the high.
My mind isn’t on the play-offs, though. It’s on the beautiful blonde waiting for me near the entrance to the pitch where I asked her to meet me. It’s on the velvet box buried deep in my gym bag, and the words I’ve practised one hundred times and still can’t say without my throat tightening.
“Oi, Luca! You got a hot date or something?” Our striker, Jamie Alberfield, flicks me with his towel when I rush to get dressed after my shower.
“Yeah, mate,” I shoot back, grinning as I shove my feet into my running shoes. “A date that’s gonna change the rest of my life.”
His eyes go wide, and a few of the boys cheer and clap me on the shoulder. “Good on ya, kid. She’s a keeper.”
“She sure is,” I agree.
Having Willow over here with me has been incredible.
Away from her mother’s toxic grasp, her confidence has bloomed, and she’s settled into our life in the UK.
It wasn’t easy breaking away, and our parents tried to interfere, but we did it together, and I’ve never been happier. Tonight will be the icing on the cake.
Am I nervous? Hell, yeah. I’ve faced down defenders twice my size, played against some of my football idols, taken penalties in front of thousands, but nothing has quite got my heart pounding like this. Proposing to the woman I love, asking her to choose me forever.
Tonight’s win was massive, but if she says yes, that will be the real victory.
“I’m out, boys,” I announce, sliding the velvet box into the pocket of my black slacks and slinging my bag over my shoulder.
Another chorus of cheers and ‘go get her’ follows me through the changeroom door.
I can’t wipe the nervous grin off my face as I jog down the tunnel, eager to reach my girl.
The evening air is cool against my skin, but everything fades when I spot her waiting for me.
She’s facing away, staring out over the empty pitch, and seeing my name on the back of her jersey sends a jolt of excitement through me.
If everything goes according to plan, that will be her name soon.
Forcing myself to slow down, I sneak up behind her, snaking my arms around her waist and spinning her around.
Willow laughs, her hands coming up to rest on my chest as she gazes up at me.
“You did it,” she gushes, reaching up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to the side of my jaw.
“We did,” I say, cupping her cheek and running my thumb over her pouty lips.
“I’m so proud of you.” She nuzzles into my touch, and my heart damn near explodes.
Dropping my bag, I take her hand and lead her out on to the pitch. Her eyes drift over the empty stadium, turning her head to take it all in.
“Are we allowed to be out here?” she asks, turning her attention back to me when we reach the kick-off spot.
A small breeze blows her hair into her face, and I tuck the wayward strands behind her ear. “I’ve got permission,” I murmur, my heart racing so fast I hope I don’t pass out.
Framed in the lights of the stadium, Willow has never looked more beautiful. She gazes up at me with those ocean blue eyes, and I know I’m the luckiest man on this planet. Before I can lose my nerve, I take a step back, pulling the little velvet box from my pocket as I lower to one knee.
Her eyes widen when I open it, revealing the princess-cut diamond ring. “Luca…”
“Our road here hasn’t been easy, and my biggest regret is ignoring you for the first four years, but we’ve come through all the hard stuff—leaving home, starting fresh here in the UK, and blocking out the voices that weren’t on our side.
” My throat tightens, but I push on. “Through all of that, we built something good. Something real. You’re my home, Willow. I love you.”
She covers her mouth, tears shining in her eyes.
“Every time you wear my name on your back,” I say with a watery grin, tugging on the hem of her jersey, “I feel like the luckiest guy alive. But I don’t want you to only wear my name on match days. I want it to be forever.”
I take her hand in mine.
“Willow Jane Hepburn, will you make it official? Will you marry me?”
She sniffs, swiping at her eyes as she nods. “Yes. Of course, I will.”
With shaking hands, I slip the ring onto her finger before climbing to my feet and crushing my lips to hers.
It’s messy, and full of too many emotions to untangle—relief, love, nerves, and a thousand memories together, culminating in this one—but Willow’s hands find my face like they always do, and she kisses me back with everything she has.
When we finally pull apart, she’s laughing through her tears.
“Trust me to be wearing contacts and mascara when you make me cry,” she chokes out, wiping under her eyes. “I can’t see a bloody thing.”
I laugh with her, still catching my breath. “You look perfect.”
She snorts, swiping at another tear. “I look like a raccoon.”
“Still perfect.” I press a kiss to the tip of her nose.
Her watery eyes meet mine, and she smiles. “We’re perfect.”
I don’t say anything. Instead, I pull her closer and squeeze her waist. “Let’s go home.”
Willow hesitates. “What about the team?”
“Forget about the team. I can celebrate with them in a couple of weeks when we get promoted.” I have no doubt we can pull it off. “Tonight, I want to celebrate with my fiancée.”
Her cheeks flush, and she nods. “Let’s go.”
We retrieve my bag and head out to the players’ carpark. I drive us home in comfortable silence, unable to wipe the grin off my face. Every time I peek over at her, she’s staring down at her left hand with a soft smile.
I park outside our little cottage, and as we walk up to our front door, I reach for her hand and bring it to my lips, kissing the gleaming rock.
“I love you, Angel. I’m so relieved you said yes.”
She looks up at me, a teasing glint in her eye. “Well, I was holding out for Ronaldo, but he’s too in love with his wife, and probably a little old for me, anyway.”
I raise a brow, a smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth. “Are you being a brat on the day I propose?”
She grins up at me through her lashes, a picture of innocence. “Maybe.”
“Hmm.” I hook an arm around her waist, sweeping her clear off the ground.
Willow squeals, laughing as her hands fly around my neck. “Luca! Put me down!”
“Not a chance.” I grin, shifting her so I can fit the key in the lock. “I’m going to practise carrying you over the threshold… and once inside, I’m gonna do very, very inappropriate things to you.”
She bites her lip, her eyes full of heat and desire. “You promise?”
“Yeah, Angel,” I murmur against her lips as I nudge the door open. “I promise. It’s my turn to be in charge.”
Our relationship has grown, and while I can’t get enough of my sweet, quiet girl dominating me in the bedroom, sometimes I just want to worship her body.
“One rule,” I growl, nipping at the tender flesh below her ear.
“What’s that?” she asks, breathless.
“You’re gonna keep my jersey on while I fuck you.”
“Deal,” she says, pulling me in for a heady kiss.
“Good girl.”
I carry her into the cottage, kicking the door shut and heading straight for our bedroom. In this moment, with her in my arms and forever on her finger, I know there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
She’s my home.