Epilogue
Kai
Opening Night feels different this year.
Last season I walked into this building convinced I didn't belong here.
Every shift felt like an exam I was destined to fail, and every roar from the crowd made me wonder whether it would turn into boos if I made one mistake.
I spent so much energy waiting for everything to fall apart that I barely remember the hockey itself.
Now, as I tighten the laces on my skates, I realize something has changed.
The fear is still there. It just isn't driving anymore.
Sonia once told me that healing rarely announces itself. There isn't a dramatic morning where you wake up and suddenly feel whole again. Instead, she said I'd probably look back one day and realize that life had quietly become larger than my grief.
I hadn't believed her.
Then somewhere between therapy appointments, Sunday mornings making breakfast with Ash, long road trips, and nights spent curled up beside him with one of the dozens of classic novels he'd somehow convinced himself I didn't already own, she became right without me noticing.
I haven't hurt myself in over a year.
There are still difficult days. Anniversaries still sting. Sometimes William still appears in my dreams, and every now and then I wake with my heart racing before I remember where I am. Usually, before I can spiral, Ash pulls me closer without even waking up.
Somehow that always helps.
“Hayes.”
I glance up to find Ash walking toward my stall.
The captain's C stitched across his chest still looks strange to me, even after an entire season. Nobody in the organization had questioned Coach's decision when he announced it during training camp. Ash had been leading this team long before someone embroidered a letter onto his jersey.
He reaches me, looks me over once, then straightens the collar of my undershirt.
“You forgot.”
“I absolutely did not.”
“You absolutely did.”
He brushes an imaginary piece of lint off my shoulder before leaning down to steal a quick kiss.
I smile into it. “We're at work.”
“We're early.”
“There's a difference?”
“There is if nobody catches us.”
Before I can answer, Tyler walks past carrying two sticks. “Oh, for God's sake.”
Ash sighs dramatically. “What?”
Tyler gestures between us. “Could Mom and Dad please stop flirting until after warmups?”
I groan. “We're never escaping that nickname, are we?”
“Nope.”
Dante appears from around the corner with an energy drink already in his hand.
“I still say I'm your favorite child.”
Ash doesn't even look at him. “We should've given you up for adoption.”
Tyler nods solemnly.
I laugh as Ash pinches the bridge of his nose.
None of us knows exactly how the nickname started.
Somewhere during the season, social media decided that Ash and I had somehow become the parents of the Wizards.
Apparently, every time Ash lectured someone about nutrition or sleep schedules while I quietly handed them snacks afterward, another meme was born.
Dante framed one of them for Christmas. It's hanging in our hallway.
Ash claims he hates it.
He is lying.
Warmups are loud in the best possible way. The crowd is already filtering into the arena as we step onto the ice, and thousands of people greet us with cheers that echo through the building. A year ago, I would've searched those faces for someone who hated me.
Tonight, I just wave.
Across the red line, Noah skates toward me. He taps the blade of his stick against mine.
“You planning on embarrassing me tonight?”
“I was actually hoping to embarrass you specifically, yes.”
He nods thoughtfully. “Good. I'd be worried if you stopped.” He grins before pushing away toward center ice.
It still amazes me sometimes. We aren't best friends.
We probably never will be. But somewhere between difficult conversations, shared road trips, therapy, and choosing every single day to stop carrying our grief like weapons, we became teammates.
Real teammates. I trust him. I think he trusts me too.
Sometimes that's enough.
The game is everything Opening Night should be. Fast. Physical. Loud. Every shift feels lighter than the last, and somewhere midway through the third period Noah picks the puck free along the boards before sliding it across the slot.
I don't think.
I shoot.
The puck snaps into the top corner.
For one heartbeat the arena falls silent.
Then twenty thousand people erupt.
I don't even make it to the glass before Noah tackles me into it, laughing as the rest of the team piles on.
The roar from the crowd washes over all of us.
This time, I let it.
Nearly an hour later, the locker room has settled into its familiar postgame rhythm. Equipment hangs from stalls, showers have emptied, and somebody has already started arguing over where we're eating tomorrow night.
Ash and I step into the hallway just as Dante bursts through another door.
He doesn't even notice us. “Angela!”
She barely has time to smile before he's kissing her in the middle of the hallway. I look at Ash.
“They're hopeless.”
“They really are.”
Angela laughs against Dante's shoulder before finally pulling away. “They're just jealous.”
“I'm traumatized,” I tell her. “Please don't do that in front of me.”
“You literally kissed my best defenseman before warmups.”
“That was different.”
Dante slips an arm around Angela's waist. “You guys coming out?”
I glance toward Ash. “We will.”
“But?”
I smile. “Ash owes me a book after the win.”
Angela laughs. “Of course he does. We'll meet you after. I'll text you!”
The two of them head toward the parking garage, still bickering over dinner plans while Dante reaches for Angela's hand.
I watch them go, smiling to myself. They're ridiculously in love. It's nice to see.
When Ash and I make it out to his car, Ash doesn't start the truck right away.
Instead, he reaches behind the seat and pulls out a neatly wrapped package. “I almost forgot.”
I blink. “You already bought one?”
“I might've.” I laugh as I peel away the paper.
Another weathered hardcover.
Naturally.
I read the title and grin.
“Persuasion.”
“I thought you'd like it.”
“I've already read this one.”
Ash smiles to himself. “Have you?”
“Several times.”
“Hm.” He folds his arms. “You should probably open it anyway.”
I raise an eyebrow but do as I'm told.
Halfway through the book, the pages have been carefully hollowed out. Nestled inside is a simple silver ring. For several long seconds, I simply stare.
Then I look at Ash. “What?”
“Do you seriously not know what's happening right now?” He's smiling now, but beneath it I see something I've almost never seen before.
Nerves. Real ones.
He lets out a quiet laugh. “I kept trying to think of the perfect way to ask. Turns out there isn't one.”
He reaches into the book, picks up the ring, and gently takes my hand. “I've spent the last year watching you choose yourself.”
His thumb brushes across my knuckles. “I've watched you fight for your life, and then slowly learn how to enjoy it.”
His smile softens. “I don't want another morning without you.”
The words are quiet. Simple. Entirely Ash.
“So…” He slips the ring between his fingers. “Marry me.”
My vision blurs almost immediately. “I…”
I love you. I never want to leave your side. You make me happier than anything.
The words catch in my throat.
He smiles patiently. “I know.”
I laugh through my tears. “Good.”
“Yes.” The answer comes out as another laugh. “Of course, yes!”
I lean across the center console and kiss him so hard we both start laughing.
The ring almost tumbles into my lap before he slides it safely onto my finger.
I look down at it then back at him. “I guess we don't need to go to the bookstore anymore.”
Ash grins. “I suppose not.”
Instead, I grab the front of his jersey and pull him toward the back seat.
He blinks. “Prince?”
“What?”
“I thought we had dinner plans.”
“We do. But this first.” I kiss him again.
He laughs into my mouth before giving in completely.
Outside, the city continues moving around us. Tomorrow there will be another practice. Another game. Another season waiting to unfold.
There will still be difficult days.
There always will be.
But there will also be books.
Quiet mornings.
Road trips.
Friends who became family.
A man who taught me that healing doesn't happen all at once—it happens one ordinary day at a time.
For the first time in my life, the future doesn't scare me.
I can't wait to live it.