Epilogue
Anaheim - Grace
“Gracie?” Wyatt asks, pulling up the bottom of his T-shirt and wiping the sweat off his forehead with it. “Let’s never move again.”
I groan. “I don’t want to think about the next move.”
“Neither do I,” he says, and to my disappointment, he lowers the bottom of his shirt, covering his glorious abs.
Damn it, I think with a smile.
I guzzle my bottled water as I slump down on the floor next to a pile of boxes. We just dropped off the moving truck, and now we’re in our new home in Anaheim.
Our first one together.
Wyatt drops down next to me and flips his hand so his palm is facing up and wiggles his fingers. I smile, putting my hand in his.
“We’re really home,” I say, looking over at him.
“Finally,” he says softly, gazing down at me as he squeezes my hand.
I stare out over the open floor plan, with the plank-style hardwood floors and pale gray walls. The kitchen has teak-colored cabinets and all stainless-steel appliances. I can't wait to get the basics in place so we can go shop for things to make it ours this week.
Ours.
I think back on our journey to get here.
After Wyatt’s confrontation with his dad, he didn’t hear from him for weeks.
Then he got a shocking text. His dad had begun seeing a therapist. He simply wanted to be Wyatt’s dad, and a better father to Rachel, too.
Things improved dramatically from that point on, and Trey accepts me as a permanent part of Wyatt’s life.
My mom is still my mom—disapproving of my current career as a freelance fashion writer, but no longer says anything about it. I think I’ll always be a disappointment to her, but I know my worth and value, and it’s no longer tied to making her happy.
Artistic swimming was saved due to sponsors and fundraising, and I’m so proud of the work the entire athletic community at OCU did to save our teams. Nobody was canceled.
Not one team. I look over at Wyatt and smile, thinking about how he ended up leading a movement when all he went to school to do was get college credits and hopefully end up in the NHL draft.
And he did.
Pride fills me as I think of how Wyatt ended up being drafted by Anaheim in the second round at the end of his junior year. And Anaheim’s affiliate team, where Wyatt was assigned?
San Diego.
I burst into tears on draft day in Philadelphia when his name was announced.
Of all the places he could have ended up, Wyatt stayed home.
He didn’t even move out of the house with the guys until they all graduated.
Then he got a nice apartment in downtown San Diego, and we were never apart while he developed his game.
Wyatt got to come to my competitions, and I always knew he was there.
He always wore an artistic swimming shirt and cheered like he was at a hockey game.
We did formals when schedules allowed and spent nights together when he wasn’t playing.
We got to see each other all the time, and I’m so, so grateful for that.
This past spring, Wyatt got called up to Anaheim at the very end of the season, and he made a splash in his NHL debut. He’s in Anaheim to stay.
And so am I.
I graduated last week from OCU, with a degree in fashion media.
I stayed on the artistic swimming team the whole time, and I also became the editor of Ocean Cove Style my senior year.
Right now, I’m enjoying freelance writing, and I have successful TikTok and Instagram accounts dedicated to fashion.
Once I’m settled here, I’m going to take courses to learn how to coach artistic swimming and hopefully get on with a club in the area.
I’m not ready to walk away from the sport yet, and working with the next generation of swimmers is something I want to do.
I think of all the interesting journeys our friends have taken, figuring out life as we worked on our futures at OCU. A smile passes over my face, and Wyatt nudges me with his arm. “What are you smiling about?” he asks.
“About how everything turned out the way it should,” I say. “Like us. Our friends. Rachel. Even if things didn’t seem like a good idea at the time.”
He chuckles. “Which friends are you thinking about? Because I think that can apply to all of them. Definitely Rachel.”
“And that worked out perfectly, didn’t it?” I tease.
He flashes me a smile. “Yeah, it did.”
“I love you so much, Wy.”
“I love you too, Gracie girl.”
“Let’s get a pizza tonight,” I say. “I’m so tired. I want to take a shower, eat pizza, and go to bed. As soon as I can find where I put the sheets.”
“Weren’t they in your special ‘important needs’ box?”
I frown. “Yes. And I don’t remember where I put that box.”
He laughs softly. “We’ll find it.”
“And we already know a pizza place because you’ve been up here since March,” I say. “Which is good, because I’m too tired to think.”
“Yeah? Will you need help in the shower? Like you might be so tired you don’t have the energy to wash your hair?”
I move so I can look at him, and he’s got a super mischievous smile on his full lips. “Are you offering to wash my hair?”
“Among other things,” he says with a smirk.
I laugh, and he does, too.
“I think I will take you up on that. But I need to sit here longer, I don’t want to move just yet.”
“I feel the same way. Moving sucks. But we will have to do it again, you know. We’re going to move into a house when we’re engaged.”
I feel warm and happy at the thought of that. We’re in no rush to get engaged right away—we already have a big adjustment with new careers in a new city. But I know it will happen within the next two years, because that’s what we both want. We want a house. A dog. A cat. Kids.
This is the life we’ve talked about since the second semester of my sophomore year.
Sometimes, you just know. We sure did.
I begin to laugh again.
“What?”
“I was just thinking of how we started,” I say. I lean my head against Wyatt’s arm, sighing happily. “Asking you to pretend to be my boyfriend was the best stupid thing I’ve ever done. I still can’t believe I did it.”
“Me agreeing to be your fake boyfriend was the best stupid thing I’ve done, too,” he says, bending down and kissing the top of my head. “Fake dating to forever.”
“Yes,” I say, “Fake dating to forever.”
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
THE END