Epilogue Happily Ever After
JAYCE
The noise crashes over me the second the final horn blares. Red lights glow behind the net, and the scoreboard confirms what my body already knows. We did it. Again.
My chest is heaving, sweat running down my spine, legs burning from the last shift where I left everything on the ice. Zander slams into me from the side, yelling incoherently, and I laugh because there are no words big enough for this feeling anyway.
I look up, scanning the stands, and I find her immediately.
Sutton is on her feet, hands clasped to her mouth, eyes bright and wet, smiling like this win belongs to her too. In a way, it does. My throat tightens hard. The first Cup was everything I’d dreamed of as a kid, but this… this one feels different.
More significant, like the culmination of everything that’s happened the past few months has just been leading to this moment.
“Cap!” Wilder shouts.
Jensen skates up beside me, breathless, eyes wild with the same disbelief and joy roaring through my veins. The Cup is carried out, gleaming under the arena lights.
We take our places at center ice as a team, gathering around the Cup with Jensen in the middle. He turns to me and jerks his head, bidding me forward to join him in lifting the giant trophy. When my hands close around the silver, it’s cold and solid. Jensen meets my eyes and we lift it together.
The arena explodes.
I throw my head back, the roar of the crowd pouring straight into my chest, and for a split second I let myself just live in the moment, knowing Sutton is watching from the stands, supporting me and cheering my name.
I look for her again and she’s beaming. The look on her face tells me she understands how much this means to me. That hockey was never something I was willing to sacrifice, and I didn’t have to.
This victory isn’t just about winning, but about staying true to myself and what I want.
As confetti rains down and my teammates crash into me, laughing and shouting, I know, without question, that this Cup means even more than the first.
The week following our second Cup victory flies by in a blur as I go from one incredible high right into another.
The scent of flowers fills the air as I stand at the bottom step of the gazebo in the middle of the lush garden surrounding me.
The June air is warm, late-summer sunlight spilling across the gardens of the private estate Sutton chose for the ceremony just outside the city.
She liked the vineyard I’d found, but she fell in love with this place the moment she saw it.
Rolling green lawns spread out around us, towering oak trees cast wide patches of shade, and flower beds burst with color in every direction.
The gazebo sits at the center of the garden, white lattice wrapped with climbing roses and pale blue hydrangeas woven through the railing. Soft strands of lights are threaded through the beams above, ready to glow once the sun dips lower.
The scent of fresh flowers hangs thick in the air. It’s quiet and peaceful. Exactly the opposite of the massive, over-the-top society wedding both of our families imagined we’d eventually have.
Instead, there are only about thirty chairs arranged in neat rows on the grass. Only our closest friends and immediate family. No corporate guests, society photographers, or political networking disguised as celebration.
I stand at the bottom step of the gazebo, my hands clasped loosely in front of me, trying to look calm even though my heart feels like it’s pounding straight through my ribs.
Wilder is standing next to me, and the rest of the guys are sitting in the first few rows of chairs with their women. My parents, siblings, and Sutton’s mother, aunt, uncle, and cousin are among them.
We’re all waiting, the anticipation hanging thick in the air. My eyes are locked on the end of the aisle and I can’t wait to see her.
The music begins, and Millie comes into view, wearing a little white dress and a crown of pink daisies around her head. She walks toward me, scattering petals from her little basket with a dramatic flourish.
When she reaches me, she looks up at me with a sassy arched brow. “I’m going to start charging to be the flower girl. Five dollars.”
I chuckle. “You’re worth every penny.”
Rylee walks down the aisle next, wearing a soft pink dress, one hand braced on her very pregnant belly.
“Fingers crossed this kid waits until the wedding’s over,” she teases, patting her belly as she moves past me and stands opposite me and Wilder.
Suddenly, the music shifts, and Sutton appears.
For a second, the world around me fades away.
She’s gorgeous. Her satin gown seems to glow softly, the ivory material smooth and elegant as it hugs her waist before flowing down in a graceful line to the ground.
The neckline is simple but stunning, the delicate straps draped loosely over her shoulders and across her collarbones like ribbons of silk.
The fabric shifts with every step she takes.
Behind her, a long train glides over the stone path and onto the grass.
Her hair is swept up into an elegant chignon at the back of her head, soft strands curling loose around her face and the nape of her neck, her teal and purple on full display.
A few brighter streaks catch the sun as she moves, and the color makes her eyes look even more vivid from where I’m standing.
Her dad is beside her, and the two begin making their way down the aisle toward me. Her eyes lock onto mine the moment she starts down the aisle, and they never leave. She’s glowing with love, excitement, and just the tiniest hint of nerves.
Holy shit, I can’t believe this is really happening. I’m about to marry the most incredible woman I’ve ever known. This day was never supposed to come…it was never supposed to be real.
But it is. This is real, and she’s going to be my wife.
When Sutton reaches me, her dad shakes my hand and hugs her before turning to join his wife in the crowd. I offer Sutton my arm and we turn to the justice of the peace, who is standing on the gazebo steps.
“You okay?” I whisper as the man starts to speak.
Sutton nods, eyes shining, lips curled in a bright smile. “I’ve never been better.”
The ceremony is simple. We vow to love and cherish each other. To always be there for each other and support each other. We promise our lives to each other, and I’ve never been more certain of keeping a promise before.
We both say I do, and when we kiss, the garden erupts with applause.
“You’re my wife,” I murmur against Sutton’s lips. “Mine. Forever.”
“You’re my husband,” she whispers back with a grin. “And you better believe it’s forever.”
I laugh and take her hand. Turning, we hurry back down the aisle, eager to start our happily-ever-after right this second.
That evening, the garden feels like an entirely different world.
Where the ceremony earlier had been bathed in warm afternoon sunlight, now the space glows softly beneath the night sky.
Hundreds of tiny string lights hang from the branches of the towering oak trees overhead, draped from limb to limb.
They sway gently in the evening breeze, casting a warm golden shimmer over the entire garden.
Lanterns line the stone paths that wind between the flower beds, their candlelight flickering against the petals of roses and hydrangeas.
Round reception tables have been arranged across the lawn where the chairs once sat during the ceremony.
Each table is covered in soft ivory linens and surrounded by mismatched wooden chairs that make the whole setup feel relaxed and intimate rather than overly formal.
At the center of every table sits a cluster of candles in glass holders, their flames dancing and reflecting off the glass like tiny sparks of amber light. The glow spills outward onto the surrounding greenery, making the leaves of the garden plants shine deep shades of emerald and gold.
Soft music drifts through hidden speakers somewhere in the trees.
The scent of fresh flowers still lingers in the warm night air, now mixed with the smell of dinner, champagne, and lemon cake specially ordered from Molly’s Patisserie.
We’ve finished dinner and the dancing has started. I make my way toward the bar to get some wine for Sutton and a beer for me, but I barely make it three steps before my brother catches my arm.
“Jayce,” he says, voice tight. “Can we talk?”
I frown, confused. Ryan and I haven’t spoken one-on-one since he released those photos of me to the press.
I’ve only interacted with him when our parents have been around, and any conversation has been icy and forced.
He did give me a surprisingly warm smile during the wedding ceremony, which surprised me.
“Okay,” I nod.
We step aside, slipping behind a large hedge so we’re relatively alone.
He releases a shaky breath. “Um…I owe you an apology.”
I stay quiet, watching him. He glances up, then away again almost immediately, taking a quick sip from his beer.
“For… a lot. I know that.” He exhales again, longer this time, and rubs the back of his neck. “I was, ugh, jealous. Bitter.”
He swallows and takes another swig of beer. “I screwed up. I never should have made those pictures of you public.”
I blink, surprised. Well this is…unexpected.
I study him for several moments, searching for any sign that he’s playing me right now. To my shock, I don’t see anything. He seems genuine, and maybe it’s because it’s my wedding day and I’m feeling generous, but I let out a snort.
“Took you long enough.”
He looks taken aback, then huffs out a nervous laugh. “I, uh, talked to Mom and Dad. Told them everything. I’m…I’m working on myself, and I’ve started seeing a new girl. Someone who likes me for me.”
“Good.” I reach up and clap him on the shoulder. “It’s about time.”
He smiles, and it’s the first real smile I’ve seen from him in a long time. “You were right. About all of it.”
“No shit,” I chuckle. “Come on. Let’s get back out there. I need to find my wife.”
Later, the lights dim slightly, and the music shifts. Sutton meets me in the center of the dance floor, her hands sliding into mine as she presses herself against my chest.
Fuck, my wife. Feels so good to say that. And my wife is so goddamn breathtaking.
I lean in. “So, do you prefer this small gathering to a big crowd full of people all staring at us?”
She smiles up at me, then laughs. “Oh yeah, definitely. Besides, our first proposal had a big enough crowd. I prefer this. It’s perfect.”
We sway together, surrounded by the people who carried us here, laughter and love circling close. I rest my forehead against hers, breathing her in.
She’s right. She is perfect, and she’s mine. This may have started as nothing more than a mutually beneficial arrangement, but it’s the best deal I ever made — because it got me right here, right now, with the love of my life in my arms.