Epilogue
BECKY
Becky pulled her phone out of her back pocket and snapped a photo of her jersey hung up next to Wren’s. The back of Wren’s now read: W. Eames; and the back of Becky’s now read: R. Eames.
She’d already snapped a picture just like this the week before of their club jerseys. After three seasons of playing separately and having to spend most of the year apart, Riptide was finally able to acquire Becky in a trade. Not long after, Wren proposed.
It had been a perfect moment. Quiet, private, just the two of them on the beach watching the sunset.
They’d taken a day trip up the California coast and were on a little beach just south of Carmel-by-the-Sea.
Becky was snuggled into Wren’s side watching Wren more than she was watching the sinking sun.
“Can we do this forever?” Wren whispered, her mouth curving into a radiant smile as the sun finally dipped beyond the horizon.
“Watch sunsets on the beach?” Becky asked, leaning up to kiss the underside of Wren’s jaw. “I’d love that. This was a fantastic day off.”
Wren shook her head. “No. Well, not no. But not just the sunsets.” Wren took a deep breath. “Us?”
Becky nodded. “Yeah, I think us forever sounds pretty perfect.”
“So, the thing is,”—Wren said, her eyes watering suddenly.
The sudden change in Wren’s demeanor had Becky’s heart rate spiking. What was the thing? Why was Wren about to cry? “Wren, are you okay?”
Wren let out a watery laugh, but she nodded. “I think I’m great,” she said softly. “But hang on,” Wren grabbed her backpack. It was covered in sand from spending all afternoon on the beach while they had kicked a soccer ball around waiting for the sunset.
Wren dug through it, looking for something. Becky frowned, watching her. “So, okay. Barbara said I’m an idiot for doing this without talking to you about it first. But I told her that this doesn’t have to be the permanent one. It can just be a placeholder.”
“A placeholder?” Becky’s ears started to ring. “Wren?”
Wren looked up at her, smiling so wide it looked like it had to make her cheeks hurt.
“Wren, what’s happening?” Becky was trying not to get too excited.
They hadn’t talked about this. Sure, they’d made comments like Wren had today—the “I want to do this forever” type of comments.
They’d merged their lives. Becky had left North Carolina to move to Los Angeles so they could stay as close to Wren’s family as possible.
And yes, Becky had spent every holiday with Wren’s family since they’d officially started dating, but they hadn’t talked about this.
About the very big and real thing that Becky was absolutely trying to not get her hopes up about.
“Well, okay,” Wren said, sounding incredibly nervous all of a sudden.
“So, the thing is, I want to do this forever. And Barbara is right, I probably should have talked to you before buying anything, but I don’t know.
I was walking past this store, and I saw…
” Wren paused, smiling a little wider. “Well, I saw something that I wanted you to have. And I wanted it to mean,”—She shook her head.
“I’m not doing a good job of this.” She laughed, an easy, light, perfect laugh.
“Here, I think this will help,” she said as she pulled her hands back out of the backpack.
She was holding a small black box. Becky’s eyebrows shot up. Wren pulled back the lid to reveal the most stunning, simple, diamond ring on a silver band.
“It’s okay if you don’t love the ring,” Wren said, shrugging.
“But I saw it one day. Last Tuesday, to be exact, when I went to the mall to get those new Adidas shoes that you’ve absolutely stolen from me,” Wren teased, but she continued before Becky could defend herself.
“you know that jewelry store that’s in the parking lot?
Okay. Well, this was on display in the window.
It stopped me in my tracks. And, to Barbara’s point, we probably should have some serious conversations about this before we announce anything to anyone, but I don’t know.
“I went into the mall and got some shoes and couldn’t stop thinking about it.
And when I came back outside, I just said “Yeah, I think I should probably buy that.” And all week, I’ve been trying to bring it up.
Not the ring. The conversations we should have around the ring.
At least I should have asked if you were ready.
But I didn’t. And then the sun went down, and I thought, this is perfect.
This is absolutely how I want to spend the rest of my life. ” Wren’s smile softened.
She cleared her throat, trying to shake the emotions before continuing, “Rebecca, you don’t have to say yes right now. You don’t have to love this ring. We can get a different ring and do this right one day. But I love you. And I do absolutely want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
“Yes,” Becky said. She’d wanted to say it as soon as she saw the ring, but Wren was being cute and rambly and she hadn’t wanted to cut her off.
“Wait. Really?” Wren asked, surprised. Tears immediately fell from her glorious green eyes.
Becky nodded. “Of course. I want to spend forever with you, too.” She held her left hand out expectantly.
“Oh, shit,” Wren said, wiping her tears. “Hang on. I have to do this correctly.” Wren lifted herself up onto her knee. “Rebecca Rothschild, will you marry me?”
Wren nudged Becky with her shoulder, snapping her out of her memory. “Send me that?” she asked, nodding towards the photo Becky had just taken of their jerseys.
“I can’t believe we’re about to make history with this,” Becky said, pulling her shirt off so she could replace it with her jersey.
Wren nodded, quickly changing into her own jersey. “I know. Wives on the same team, with the same last name, in the Olympics together.”
“And our people are all here for it,” Becky said, beaming.
Katie was sitting next to all of the Eames’s.
“And Barbara is a traitor wearing your jersey and not mine,” Wren said, only mildly annoyed.
Becky let out a little laugh. “What can I say? She’s got taste.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Wren said, taking a little box out of her locker. “Here,” she said, putting her own wedding band into the box.
Becky pulled off her engagement ring and wedding band as well, setting them down next to Wren’s at the bottom of the box. Wren slid the box back into the locker and quickly changed into her sliders and jersey shorts.
When they were fully changed, Becky held out her hand. “Well, Wrenaldo, ready to go make history?”
Wren grinned at her. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”