Epilogue #2
I snap a photo of Cam mid-explanation, his face bright with enthusiasm, and send it back with the caption: He's in heaven.
Her response is immediate: You both are. It's disgusting how happy you two are.
Says the woman who literally glows when her husband walks into a room.
Fair point. Coffee later? I have news.
Good news or 'Levi did something ridiculous again' news?
The best kind of news. Meet me at Candy Jar in an hour?
I agree and slip my phone back into my pocket, curious but not worried. Lily's definition of "the best kind of news" usually involves either new business ventures or embarrassing stories about our respective men doing something charmingly stupid.
I'm gathering my things when Cam reappears, practically vibrating with excitement. The inspection team is nowhere to be seen, which could be either very good or very bad.
"Well?" I ask.
"They loved it." He scoops me up and spins me around the small office, both of us laughing like children. "They said it's exactly the kind of community-focused facility the league office wants to see from expansion teams."
"Cam, that's wonderful!"
"The final inspection is just a formality now. We're really doing this, Taralyn. We're really building a team."
The joy in his voice is infectious, and I find myself grinning so wide my cheeks hurt. This is what happiness looks like—my man chasing his dreams in the town we both love, surrounded by people who've become family.
"I'm so proud of you," I whisper against his ear.
He sets me down gently, his hands lingering on my waist. "We make a good team, you and I."
"The best."
"Speaking of teams," he says, his voice taking on that particular tone that means he's about to say something that will either make me laugh or make me want to strangle him, "I may have mentioned to the inspection team that my fiancée has an eidetic memory and would be perfect for handling the administrative side of things. "
I blink. "You what?"
"Now, before you get that look—"
"What look?"
"The look that says you're calculating exactly how long it would take to hide my body somewhere in this facility."
I cannot help but laugh. "I wasn't thinking about hiding your body. I was thinking about displaying it prominently as a warning to others."
"See? This is why I love you. You're creative with your threats.
" He tugs me closer, turning on the charm full force.
"But seriously, think about it. You know every person in this town, you remember every conversation, every detail.
You'd be amazing at community outreach, at making sure this team becomes part of Cedar Falls' heart instead of just another business. "
The suggestion settles into something that feels suspiciously like excitement.
I've been wondering what comes next for me, professionally speaking.
Working at Mane Street Bistro has been perfect for healing and hiding, but I'm ready for something more challenging, something that uses all of who I am instead of just the parts I've chosen to show.
"You really think I'd be good at it?"
I laugh, shaking my head. "Better decide before I order merch.”
The vision he's painting is seductive—using my skills not as a weapon or a tool, but as a bridge. Connecting people, building something lasting and meaningful.
"I'd want to think about it," I say carefully.
"Of course. Take all the time you need." He pauses, then adds with studied casualness, "The salary would be competitive, of course. Full benefits, and you'd have complete creative control over community programming."
"Are you trying to bribe me, Mr. Wilder?"
"Is it working?"
I pretend to consider this. "Maybe. Depends on the office."
"Corner office, big windows, your own coffee machine."
"Now you're talking." I stretch up to kiss him, quick and sweet. "I'll think about it, I promise. But right now, I need to meet Lily. She says she has news."
"Good news?"
"The best kind, apparently."
"Tell her I said congratulations on whatever it is," he says, already turning back toward the blueprints on his desk.
"You don't even know what it is yet."
"Doesn't matter. Any news that makes Lily happy makes Levi happy, which makes my life easier. It's basic math."
I shake my head, still grinning as I head for the door. "I love your twisted logic."
"It's why you're marrying me!"
His voice follows me out of the office, and I'm still smiling as I step back into the main facility.
The space has been transformed since this morning—what looked like chaos now shows clear signs of organization and progress.
I can see the bones of what it will become: the gleaming ice surface, the stands filled with cheering fans, the locker rooms where dreams will be made and broken.
It's Cam's vision made real, and I've never been more proud of anyone in my life.
The drive to Candy Jar gives me time to think about his offer. Working with the team would mean stepping fully into my real identity, using my gifts openly instead of hiding them. It's terrifying and exhilarating in equal measure.
By the time I push through the familiar door of Lily's shop, I've almost talked myself into it.
"There's my favorite future hockey executive," Lily calls from behind the counter, her face glowing with that particular radiance that means she's either had excellent sex recently or received excellent news. Possibly both.
"Who says I'm taking the job?"
"Your face says you're taking the job. You get this look when you're trying to talk yourself out of something you actually want to do."
I slide into the chair across from her usual spot, accepting the latte she's already prepared. "I hate that you can read me so easily."
"It's a gift. Speaking of gifts..." She settles into her chair with the kind of careful grace that makes me pay attention. There's something different about her today, a kind of contained excitement that seems to vibrate just beneath her skin.
"Okay, what's the news?"
Her grin could power the entire town. "I'm pregnant."
The words hit me like a warm wave, and I'm on my feet before I realize I'm moving, pulling her into a fierce hug that lifts her off her chair.
"Lily! Oh that’s so wonderful!"
"I know, right?" She's laughing and crying at the same time, the way people do when they're overwhelmed by good fortune. "Levi doesn't know yet. I wanted to tell you first, get your advice on how to surprise him."
I pull back, holding her at arm's length so I can see her face properly. She's absolutely radiant, her usual polish replaced by something softer and more luminous.
"How are you feeling?"
"Terrified. Excited. Like I might throw up from happiness." She settles back into her chair, one hand automatically moving to her still-flat stomach. "We've been talking about having more kids, but talking and actually being pregnant with No. 2 are very different things."
"He's going to lose his mind," I tell her. "In the best possible way."
"I hope so. I keep thinking about how his face looked when he talked about wanting to be present for everything—recitals, dentist appointments, bedtime stories. I want to give him all of that."
The love in her voice is so clear, so pure, that it makes my chest tight with emotion. This is what I want someday—not just the romance and passion Cam and I share, but this deeper thing, this building of a life together that extends beyond just the two of us.
"When will you tell him?"
"Tonight. I have a whole plan involving his favorite dinner and a very subtle announcement involving baby shoes and hockey pucks."
I laugh through the tears I didn't realize were falling. "He's going to cry."
"I'm counting on it. I love it when he cries happy tears."
We spend the next hour planning her surprise, debating the merits of various reveal methods with the kind of intensity usually reserved for military operations. By the time I leave Candy Jar, I'm practically buzzing with secondhand excitement.
The drive back to the facility gives me time to process everything—Cam's job offer, Lily's news, the sense that everything in our little corner of the world is shifting and growing in beautiful ways.
I find Cam in the main arena space, standing at center ice of what will soon be a regulation rink. His hands are shoved deep in his pockets, and there's something contemplative about his posture that makes me approach quietly.
"Penny for your thoughts?"
He glances over, his expression soft. "Just trying to picture it. Opening night, you know? The stands full, the lights bright, kids from town getting their first taste of real hockey."
I slip my arms around his waist from behind, resting my cheek against his shoulder blade. "It's going to be amazing."
"I keep thinking about all the ways it could go wrong. What if we can't find good enough players? What if the town doesn't support us? What if—"
"Hey." I turn him around, framing his face with my hands so he has to look at me. "Remember what you told me about not letting fear make decisions for me?"
His mouth curves in a rueful smile. "That advice is a lot easier to give than to take."
"Lucky for you, you have a very smart fiancée who can remind you of your own wisdom when you need it."
"Very lucky," he agrees, leaning into my touch. "How was Lily? What was her news?"
"She's pregnant."
His eyes go wide, and then he's grinning so broadly I'm surprised his face doesn't crack in half. "Really? That's incredible! Levi's going to be a father again?"
"She's telling him tonight. And if you spoil her surprise, I will use my eidetic memory to catalog every embarrassing thing you've ever done and share it with your parents."
"My lips are sealed." He mimes zipping his mouth shut, but I can see the joy practically radiating from him. "Gosh. Can you imagine Levi, dad of two kids?"
"Actually, yes. I think he'll be amazing at it."
Something shifts in his expression, a thoughtfulness that wasn't there before. "Do you want that someday? Kids, I mean."
The question catches me off guard, not because I haven't thought about it, but because I've been afraid to hope for it too openly. "Do you?"
"I asked first."
"Yes," I say softly. "Someday. With you."
The smile that spreads across his face is tender and fierce and full of promises. "Good. Because I've been thinking about little girls with your blue eyes and boys who inherit your brain and my complete inability to take anything seriously."
"You’re asking for trouble," I laugh.
"They'll be perfect," he says with absolute certainty. "Just like their mother."
The moment stretches between us, full of future possibilities and present contentment. This is what love looks like, I think—not just the passion and excitement, but this quiet certainty, this sense of building something together that's bigger than either of us alone.
"I'll take the job," I say suddenly.
"What?"
"The community outreach position. I'll take it."
His face lights up like I've just handed him the Stanley Cup. "Really?"
"Really. But I have conditions."
"Name them."
"I want input on hiring decisions for community-facing positions. I want a budget for local partnerships and youth programming. And I want it understood that my first loyalty is to this town, not to profit margins."
"Done, done, and done." He lifts me off my feet, spinning me around the empty arena. "You're going to be incredible at this."
"I hope so."
He sets me down gently, his hands lingering on my waist. "I know so. You have this gift for making people feel seen, for remembering what matters to them. That's exactly what this team needs."
The confidence in his voice makes something settle into place in my chest. This feels right—using my abilities not to serve someone else's agenda, but to build something meaningful in the place I've chosen as home.
"So," I say, sliding my arms around his neck, "business partners and life partners. Think we can handle it?"
"Sweetheart," he says, his voice dropping to that low rumble that never fails to make my pulse skip, "I think we can handle anything."
He kisses me then, soft and sure and full of promise, and I taste our future on his lips—hockey games and community barbecues, late nights planning events and early mornings stealing quiet moments before the day begins.
When we break apart, the empty arena around us doesn't feel empty anymore. It feels full of possibility, of dreams taking shape and love building something lasting.
"Come on," I say, taking his hand. "Let's go home. I have a victory dinner to cook, and you have a facility to finish building."
"Just call me yours," he murmurs against my ear as we head toward the exit.
I squeeze his hand, my heart full to bursting. "Always."
Outside, the Colorado sky is painted in shades of gold and pink, and Cedar Falls stretches out before us—our town, our home, our future. And walking beside me is the man who saw through every mask I wore and chose to love me anyway.
This is my forever team, I think as we drive toward home. This is my championship.
The End…
but not quite goodbye.
Tara: “Would you mind leaving a review? Just a few words, five stars if you had a good time. I promise—I’ll remember every single word.”
Cam: “You know she really will. That’s her thing.”
Tara: “It’s not just memory. It’s gratitude.”
Cam: “You heard her. Right there—in the review box…Thank you!”