Epilogue — Lena
Epilogue
Lena
Six weeks later, Lena Brooks stood in the Ridgeview arena concourse holding a clipboard she no longer needed and watching Mason Cross attempt to tape a hand-lettered sign to a folding table without creating a criminal incident.
Progress, she had learned, was relative.
“Higher on the left,” Paige said from beside her.
Mason adjusted the sign.
“Your other left.”
Mason paused. “There are too many directions.”
Lena pressed her lips together to keep from laughing.
Mostly.
The word Helmets was spelled correctly, which already made it an emotional improvement over their first fundraiser.
“Okay,” Lena said. “That’s good.”
Mason stepped back, hands on hips. “Be honest. Do I have a future in signage?”
“No,” Paige said.
Mason nodded. “Thank you for your honesty.”
Carter came up behind Lena then, sliding one arm around her waist like he had earned the right to make her forget every item on her checklist.
Which, unfortunately, he had.
“Everything under control?” he asked.
Lena leaned back into him before she could overthink it. “You’re asking that in this building?”
“Fair.” He kissed her temple. “Everything under acceptable chaos?”
Tonight was not a full fundraiser. Nothing as complicated as the original Hearts & Helmets event. No dunk tanks. No glitter water. No surprise merchandise. Lena had made all three of those conditions legally clear even if no actual lawyers were involved.
Tonight was a thank-you event before Ridgeview’s final home game of the regular season.
A donor table. A raffle. A short recognition announcement during first intermission.
A few kids from St. Mary’s and their families invited as guests.
Pancake breakfast gift baskets donated by local restaurants because, somewhere along the way, pancakes had become part of their story whether Lena had approved it or not.
She had approved it a little.
Carter’s hand rested warm at her waist.
“Did you eat?” she asked.
He smiled against her hair. “Yes.”
“Proof?”
He pulled his phone from his pocket and showed her a photo of a half-eaten sandwich on a paper plate.
Lena frowned. “Half-eaten.”
“I remembered halfway through.”
“I’ll take it.”
Paige appeared on Lena’s other side, eyeing Carter. “Adequate boyfriend behavior.”
Carter nodded solemnly. “Thank you, Safety Commissioner.”
“You’re welcome.”
Mason leaned closer to Carter and whispered loudly, “I’m still unclear whether adequate is good.”
Carter whispered back, “It is from Paige.”
Paige looked at them both. “I can hear you.”
Mason straightened. “Excellent hearing. Leadership quality.”
Paige stared at him for one second too long.
Mason, for once in his life, seemed to realize he had entered dangerous territory and immediately picked up a roll of tape.
“I’m going to tape something else,” he announced.
“No,” Lena and Paige said together.
Carter laughed under his breath and kissed Lena’s temple again.
She tilted her head back to look at him. “You’re enjoying this too much.”
“I love our friends.”
“Our friends are exhausting.”
“Yes.” His smile softened. “Still love them.”
Her.
Their life.
“Dangerous words,” she said softly.
Carter looked down at her.
Maybe it always would.
Before she could answer, a familiar voice called, “There she is.”
Lena turned just as Michael and Anne Hayes approached the table.
Michael walked slowly but steadily, his color good, his smile mischievous. Anne walked beside him with one hand tucked through his arm, less because he needed support and more because she had no intention of letting him drift into unsupervised behavior.
“Mr. Hayes,” Lena said, smiling.
Michael looked offended. “After all we’ve been through? Mr. Hayes?”
Carter sighed. “Dad.”
“Michael,” Lena corrected, laughing.
“Better.” Michael nodded toward the raffle table. “I came to confirm whether there are actual pancakes.”
“It’s a raffle basket,” Anne said. “Not a buffet.”
“I was misled by the signage.”
“You read what you wanted to read.”
“That is how hope works.”
Carter shook his head. “Doctor say you could come tonight?”
Michael lifted his chin. “The doctor said moderate activity.”
“This is an arena.”
“I am moderately standing.”
Anne patted his arm. “He’s fine. And if he isn’t, I’ll ruin his evening.”
“Marriage,” Michael told Lena, “is very romantic.”
Lena smiled. “I’m learning.”
Of course he did.
His expression softened as he looked between them.
“Good,” he said.
Anne hugged Lena, then Carter, then inspected the raffle baskets with Paige because apparently all responsible women at Ridgeview eventually ended up supervising.
Carter leaned close to Lena’s ear.
“Want a minute?”
She looked up. “Before puck drop?”
“Before Mason finds a megaphone.”
The arena hummed around them. Skates carved faintly against ice below. Fans moved through the concourse in navy and silver. Somewhere behind them, Mason shouted, “I HAVE NOT TOUCHED A MEGAPHONE,” which did not feel reassuring.
Carter stopped in the hallway where the noise softened.
“Hi,” he said.
Lena laughed. “Hi.”
“I haven’t gotten to say that properly.”
“You’ve been with me for twenty minutes.”
Still careful.
Still Carter.
“How are you?” he asked.
“Yes.” She glanced toward the rink. “A little emotional.”
“Good emotional?”
She nodded. “This started with a typo banner and a supply closet.”
“And glitter water.”
“And glitter water.”
“And you threatening me with a clipboard.”
“You deserved it.”
“I did.” He smiled. “Still do sometimes.”
He looked down at their joined hands. “Feels kind of big being back here.”
Now, the arena still buzzed with chaos.
But she was not standing in it alone.
“Important big,” she said.
He remembered.
Of course he did.
“Yeah,” he said. “Important big.”
Then Carter tugged her closer.
“Can I kiss the event coordinator in a hallway with no donor photographers present?”
Lena smiled. “The event coordinator is technically off duty.”
Like he had nowhere else to be, even though he absolutely had a game in less than thirty minutes and Lena had a table being guarded by Paige and Anne.
The kiss stayed sweet, but it still had the power to make her knees forget their job.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested against hers.
“I love you,” he said.
“I love you too.”
Mia Calloway stood at the end of the hallway, camera in hand, press badge clipped to her jacket. Her eyes widened.
“Oh,” she said. “Sorry. I wasn’t— I mean, I was taking hallway atmosphere shots, not—”
“It’s okay,” Lena said, though her face warmed.
Carter gave Mia a mock-serious look. “If that ends up in the newsletter, Paige will sue.”
Logan Reeves stood near the tunnel entrance in his game suit, tie loose, expression unreadable. He had clearly seen Mia. He had also clearly considered turning around and walking into a wall rather than acknowledging it.
Logan’s jaw tightened.
Neither spoke.
Carter looked between them.
So that was not nothing.
Mason’s voice carried from the concourse. “LOGAN, COACH WANTS YOU!”
Logan’s eyes stayed on Mia one beat too long.
Then he looked away.
“Coming,” he said.
Lena glanced at Carter.
Carter leaned toward her and murmured, “That’s going to be a disaster.”
Lena murmured back, “Probably.”
“Accurate word.”
Mia cleared her throat, cheeks pink. “I should, um, get crowd shots.”
“Good luck,” Lena said gently.
Mia nodded and disappeared toward the concourse.
Carter watched her go, then shook his head. “Logan is doomed.”
“Maybe Mia is too.”
“Good. He deserves a challenge.”
Love kept happening.
Risks kept appearing.
Carter looked down at Lena again. “Ready?”
“For what?”
“Tonight. The table. The game. Mason existing.”
“No one is ready for Mason existing.”
“True.”
She squeezed his hand. “But yes.”
They walked back to the raffle table together.
By then, Coach Harlan had arrived and was pretending not to notice that Mason had somehow acquired a small bell.
“No,” Coach said.
Mason froze. “But raffle energy—”
“No.”
Mason handed the bell to Tank.
Coach looked at Tank.
Tank immediately handed it to Paige.
Paige smiled. “Confiscated.”
Mason sighed. “I live in a world without music.”
Jonah walked by and said, “Good.”
Carter exhaled.
“Time.”
Lena turned toward him.
Game mode had not fully taken over yet. He was still hers for another second.
“Good luck,” she said.
His smile softened. “You’ll be watching?”
Lena stood there for a second, hand still over her heart, feeling the arena pulse around her.
Paige came up beside her with the confiscated bell in one hand.
“You know,” Paige said, “for a couple that started with clipboard hostility, you two got disgustingly sweet.”
But happiness, she had learned, did not require every fear to disappear.
Sometimes it just meant choosing the good thing while fear walked beside you.
“Yes,” Lena said. “My okay.”
Carter found her in the crowd before his first shift, because he always did now. Logan lined up near the blue line, expression hard, while Mia lifted her camera from beside the glass.
Mason nearly tripped over his own skate during a line change and somehow turned it into a bow.
Tank scored in the second period and looked shocked by his own success.
Jonah got an assist and reacted like he had filed paperwork.
Lena met him halfway.
This time, when he opened his arms, she stepped into them without fear.
“You won,” she said.
He kissed her hair. “We raised money.”
“You scored.”
“You organized.”
“Mason behaved.”
“Let’s not get carried away.”
She smiled.
“Pizza.”
His eyebrows rose. “Wow. Plot twist.”
“I’m flexible.”
“I love this development.”
“I love you.”
His expression softened completely.
“I love you too.”
Around them, the team spilled into the concourse.
Paige argued with Mason about the definition of behaving.
Anne and Michael talked with Denise near the table.
Logan stood across the hallway, quietly watching Mia review photos on her camera, looking like a man headed toward the hardest fight of his life.
The future was uncertain.
The night smelled like ice, popcorn, and possibility.
“Still in?” Carter asked.
No hesitation now.
No fear loud enough to drown out the answer.
“Still in.”
He squeezed her hand.
“Me too.”
And together, they walked out of the arena—past the raffle table, past the last traces of fundraiser chaos, past the place where fear had turned into trust and risk had turned into love—ready for whatever came next.