Epilogue
WREN
I sit in the stands and wait for his text, like always.
It’s been more than enough time—five years, to be exact—and I still have some lingering PTSD when it comes to Stone’s I’ll score one for you , baby texts.
The last time he missed sending a text like that, my father had him tied up and held captive in a nasty, meth-cooking trailer.
To say that I’m jaded is an understatement.
My phone buzzes, and my heart winds up.
Stone
I’ll score one for you, baby.
I smile and send my usual response.
You’ll score later too. ;)
He doesn’t text back, but I know he is sporting his coy smirk.
A sneaky little grin slides onto my face, and Ally nudges my shoulder.
“You two are ridiculous. Still .”
My smile deepens.
Ally and I went in different directions after graduating. I went on to graduate school to further my love of biochemistry, whereas she said she’d rather stick a pencil in her eyeball than do any more schooling after her BA.
I have a goal of being a lead chemist in the development of vaccines, something that Stone and the rest of my friends and family support.
No matter where Stone’s NHL career has taken him, we always find a way to be the constant in each other’s lives, which is something I have never really had until him.
“There they are,” Ally says.
We stand and wear our gold and black with dignity.
I clap and scream for Stone and continue to do so throughout the entire first period. He’s playing like he’s distracted, and my stomach knots each time his stick slips against the ice.
“I have no idea what’s wrong with him,” I murmur.
Ally tries to come up with excuses, but I mostly shoot her down. It isn’t until the Guardians are nearing the end of the second period that Stone ends up in the sin bin for knocking the opposing player on his ass.
“What is going on with you?” I shout, descending down the aisle, knowing it’s about to be intermission.
Stone is breathing heavily, and when his blue eyes fling to mine, I can tell he’s distracted.
“Fuck it,” he mumbles.
What ?
The buzzer echoes around the arena, and Stone flies out of the sin bin in a hurry.
I practically press my face up against the glass, prepared to see him get reamed by his coach, except Stone turns to me instead.
Ice flies up in his wake, and although every other player is huddling together, and the crowd is going to the concessions for refills, Stone skates to the barrier between us.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
He pulls on his glove and throws it down to the ice. “I’m distracted.”
I snort. “I can tell.” I glance at the eavesdroppers and lower my voice. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”
Stone signals for their best center, and he skates over quickly and drops something into Stone’s hand.
I’m confused, and everyone is staring.
“Stone.” I’m impatient and hesitant at the same time.
“Baby,” he says, getting down on one knee.
What the hell is he doing?
He takes his helmet off and shakes his sweaty head. Stone Foster is just as edgily attractive as he was years ago when we came face to face as enemies. He hated me then, but I know he loves me now.
“I had this entire thing planned for after the game. The guys were in on it, and even the fucking cameraman was going to zoom in on your face so I could watch the surprise flicker across it over and over again until we’re old and gray, but I can’t play another second of this game without knowing you’ll be my wife. ”
A knot the size of a hockey puck is lodged in my throat.
Stone opens his hand and shows me the ring, but it doesn’t matter the size or the way the oval-shaped diamond catches the lights from above. All that matters is the desperation in his shaky voice that silently begs me to be his forever.
“Yes,” I say without an ounce of hesitation.
His smooth chuckle erases his nerves. “I didn’t even ask you yet.”
“I don’t care,” I reply.
A single tear creeps down my face, but Stone has somehow made it around the glass, up the few steps, and wipes it away.
“Wren Foster ,” he whispers against my lips. “It’s about time we discarded that shitty Davis last name.”
I smile and nod. I barely hear the roaring crowd that surrounds us when Stone’s hands cup my cheeks. Everything fades when he places his mouth on mine.
“Stone and Wren Foster,” I whisper, pulling back.
It sounds like forever to me.
The End