Epilogue
FISH
We’ve been called into a meeting with HR, Coach Anderson, Mike, and PR.
Emmett and Jo have gone in first. Collette and I sit in the corridor outside like two kids waiting to see the principal.
She’s in her work clothes, hair pulled back, looking professional and composed and nothing like the woman who sobbed into her mother’s shoulder yesterday.
“You okay?” I ask.
“No.” She reaches for my hand. “You?”
“No. But whatever happens, we are in this together, okay?” I reassure her.
The door opens twenty minutes later, and Emmett and Jo walk out. Jo’s face is pale, but she looks relieved. Emmett gives me a nod that says, ‘Brace yourself.’
“Mr. Crawford. Ms. St. Pierre.” Linda, the HR rep, holds the door open. “You’re next.”
“It’s Mrs. Crawford, actually,” Collette says as she walks in.
Linda blinks, looks at her file, then looks at Collette.
“We’re married,” Collette states as we take our seats.
The room goes quiet, she’s stunned everyone silent. Coach Anderson leans back in his chair. Renee, Collette’s boss, raises a brow.
“You’re married,” Linda repeats.
“Yes, ma’am,” Collette says.
“To a player on the team,” Linda confirms.
“Yes, the one sitting right beside me.”
Linda turns to me, and then to the others.
“Never thought I would see the day,” Coach says, shaking his head.
“Are you telling me in a space of twenty-four hours, I’ve learned that my captain has been secretly dating the team physiotherapist, and one of my forwards has secretly married the social media coordinator, and both of these women are the sisters to two of my players? ”
“When you say it like that, it sounds bad,” I offer.
“It is bad, Mr. Crawford,” Linda states.
Seems like Linda doesn’t like jokes. I turn to Collette, who gives me a shrug.
“Colette, you understand when you joined this organization, you signed a contract, and in that contract, it talked about fraternization with players, that it wouldn’t be tolerated unless under certain circumstances, which it seems your marriage is one of.
” Oh. “The contract technically talks about dating, it doesn’t mention marriage. ”
Maybe eloping has saved our asses.
“The fact that you’re legally married and not in a causal relationship means we will be giving you a warning for not disclosing your change in circumstances,” Linda explains.
This is good. This means Collette doesn’t lose her job.
“Here is what we are proposing. You will no longer be assigned to create content featuring your husband directly. Someone else on the team handles Mr. Crawford’s individual content.
You can still work on team-wide material, but nothing where there’s a direct one-on-one dynamic between you and Mr. Crawford. ”
“Linda, if I might interject there,” Renee, Collette’s boss pipes in.
“I think it would cause an uproar with the community if Fishette were not seen together in the content, as they were both very large factors in growing our social media presence, which has led to an increase in ticket sales and merchandise, especially regarding Justin’s jersey.
A twenty percent growth I’ve been told by accounts. ”
I had no idea, but hell yeah.
Linda looks bamboozled by Renee’s interjection. “The rules are …”
“I understand, Linda, that these two don’t tick the correct HR boxes, but they tick the tight PR ones.
I think their penance should be that they are the face of some new campaigns.
Let’s put them to work for their sins.” Renee smiles at Collette, who looks in shock.
“Don’t you think the board would be happy if we could get ticket sales increased? ”
“And you think these two can do that?” Linda questions her.
“Linda, you need to look up #Fishette. Hold on, let me show you. It has something like twenty million views, that hashtag,” Renee explains as she passes her phone over to Linda in HR and shows her our work.
“I see that they are popular,” Linda concedes.
“Look, these two kids are in love, just like the last two that came in. I was more pissed with my captain than I am with Fish.” Coach glares at me. “This young man has never been good at following rules .” His eyes narrow on me.
Coach isn’t wrong.
“Look, make these two love birds sing for their supper, like what Renee has asked. Get them to do community service for their sins, and then we can move on,” Coach Anderson suggests to Linda.
Coach leans forward. “Fish, you’re not the captain of this team.
You don’t carry the same weight Emmett does right now.
But you’re a leader to the new guys, whether you like it or not.
I’m going to need you to go into that locker room and apologize to the team, just like your captain is about to do. ”
“Will do, Coach,” I tell him.
He nods. “Sorry to cut this short, Linda, but I think we have everything we need here. I’ve got drills to run,” Coach says, getting up.
“Oh, yes, of course, Coach,” Linda says, becoming flustered.
“Great, I’m glad this is all sorted,” Renee adds as she gets up, too, with a waddle as she’s so heavily pregnant. “Collette, pop into my office once you’re done here, and we can sort out how best to launch #Fishette to the world.”
“Okay,” Collette says as her boss and Coach walk out of the office.
“Well, I guess that is that then,” Linda says. “You’re free to go.”
Collette and I look at each other. I think we just got lucky.
I do what Coach says and walk into the locker room where everyone is there getting dressed for practice. I see Emmett getting changed, and he gives me a look of solidarity.
“Guys, can I get your attention,” I call out to the team, there’s a load of groans and chirping from them.
“I just wanted to let you know I have some news, and I don’t know if you will be happy about it.
” The boys look around at each other, confused.
“At Christmas time, I married Collette St. Pierre.” The locker room erupts, they are shocked.
“I broke the rules of the team, and I broke my teammates’ trust, especially Pierre and Felix.
” I look over at my new brothers-in-law, and they still look like they want to kill me. “I’m sorry, guys.”
“Thank fuck, Fish is off the market. That means more bunnies for us,” Devon, one of the new drafts, says, breaking the tension of the locker room.
I look over at Emmett as he’s up next, and I don’t know if they are going to be so accepting of his confession as they are of mine.
At the end of practice, Collette calls me over to where she is standing with the content girls.
“I need you for something,” she says with a look that tells me I don’t have a choice.
“Okay.” I shrug, but she gives me a funny look before turning around.
“Guys, you all set?” she asks the girls.
“Yep,” Billie says, giving her a thumbs-up.
“Rolling,” Zara confirms.
Collette steps into the frame and takes a breath. “Hey, girls, before we start, there’s something I need to tell you.” She looks at me and holds out her hand. “Get in here.” I step into the frame beside her, and the girls exchange confused looks behind the camera.
“So, you know how the internet has been shipping #Fishette for months?” Collette starts.
“Obviously,” Billie says from behind the camera.
“And you know how I’ve told you all repeatedly that we’re just colleagues?”
“Repeatedly,” Marlowe adds.
“I lied.” Collette looks at me and then back at the girls. “Fishette is real. But we aren’t dating.” She pauses. “We’re married.”
She holds up her left hand, and the massive diamond catches the light.
Nothing happens for about two seconds.
Then Billie drops the mic pack she’s holding, and Marlowe’s jaw hits the floor. Zara steps out from behind the camera.
“I’m sorry, what?” Billie shrieks.
“Married.” Collette wiggles her ring finger.
“Married?” Marlowe screams.
“Since Christmas. The night of the Christmas party actually, it’s a long story,” I add.
Billie rushes forward and grabs Collette’s hand, pulling it toward her face. “Oh my god. That ring is huge.”
“That’s what she said,” I mutter. Collette elbows me.
“You’ve been married this whole time?” Zara stares at us like we’ve just told her the earth is flat. “This whole time? While we were filming content together? While I was editing #Fishette compilations? While Billie was reading fan fiction out loud in the office?”
“You read fan fiction out loud?” I ask Billie.
“That’s not the point right now!” Billie is crying. Actual tears. “You two are married. #Fishette is real.”
Marlowe has her hands over her face. “I knew it. I knew something was going on. That day at the game when you blushed on camera, I knew.”
“You said you were fine!” Zara accuses Collette.
“I was lying.”
“Obviously!” Zara throws her hands up, but she’s laughing. “Oh my god, we have to post this. We have to post something. The fans are going to die. They are going to actually die.”
“That’s why we’re here.” Collette grins. “I want to announce it, on our channels, today, before anyone else breaks the story.” She turns and looks at me. “You go get changed and get camera ready.”
“Yes, boss.”
“Oh, and girls, we have more news.”
“You’re pregnant.” Billie gasps.
“No,” Collette answers quickly.
“Not yet,” I add, which makes the girls swoon.
“Emmett and Jo are a thing,” she declares, and I leave the girls shrieking.
Later that night, we’re in bed, my bed, our bed. She’s in my shirt, legs tangled with mine, her phone propped between us. The video went live hours ago, and we’ve been reading comments ever since.
“Read me another one,” I say, pulling her closer.
“Okay.” She scrolls. “This one says …”
I have been saying Fishette was real since day one and nobody believed me. I need everyone who doubted me to apologize immediately.
“Valid.” I chuckle.
“This one …”
The way he looks at her in every single video makes so much sense now. That man has been down bad from the start.
“So true, I was a goner from the start,” I say, snuggling into her.
Married??? Not dating. Not engaged. Married. Did they skip every step? I’ve never been more obsessed with two people that I don’t know.
“We are pretty obsessable.” I chuckle.
“That’s not a word,” she tells me.
“It is now.” I kiss her shoulder. “Keep going.”
She scrolls.
I just went back and watched every Fishette video, and I’m crying because you can literally see the moment he falls in love with her. It’s the goal bet video. Watch his face when she beats him. That’s the moment.
“They’re not wrong,” I murmur against her neck.
Big Fish is officially off the market. Today we mourn.
Rest in peace, bunnies.
She got the whole fish. The ring and the man.
“What about this one?” She turns her phone toward me.
I don’t care about hockey. I have never watched hockey. My friend sent me this video, and now I have cried four times and ordered a Mavericks jersey. What is happening to me?
“We’re converting people.” I laugh.
The way she said ‘meet my husband’ with that smile. That’s the smile of a woman who knows she won. And she did. She won the whole damn game.
“I sure did. You’re mine.” She smiles as she leans over and kisses me.
“Damn right you are.”
She traces my jaw with her finger. “We did it.”
“We did it.”
“The world knows.”
“That they do.” I smile
“And they’re happy for us.”
“They’re losing their minds for us. There’s a difference.” I tuck her hair behind her ear. “How do you feel?”
“Free,” she whispers. “I feel free.”
I kiss her again, slow and soft. My wife, in our bed, no more hiding.
“Babe?”
“Mm?” she says.
“Read me one more.”
She picks up the phone and scrolls through the hundreds of comments still pouring in until she finds one she likes.
“This one says …”
The greatest love story in hockey.
“The greatest love story in hockey is a bit dramatic.” She chuckles.
“It’s accurate.”
She curls into me, her head on my chest, her ring cold against my skin. I put both our phones on the nightstand and pull the covers over us.
Outside, Manhattan hums, and the notifications keep buzzing.
The internet keeps spinning, and somewhere out there, millions of strangers are celebrating a love story they watched unfold one video at a time without knowing it was real all along.
But in here, it’s quiet. It’s just us. The way it’ll always be.
“Goodnight, wife.”
“Goodnight, husband.”
THE END