Page 76 of The Hockey Pact

The whirlwind of events following our airport reunion—media frenzy, Championship pressure, family reconciliations—had eventually settled into a new normal that exceeded my most optimistic expectations.

"Earth to Matthews," Max said, waving a hand in front of my face. "You're getting that sappy look again."

"Just thinking," I defended, accepting the bourbon sample he offered.

"About how lucky you are that your fake wife turned into a real one who actually puts up with you?" he teased.

"Something like that," I admitted, raising my glass in acknowledgment.

Max's own relationship with Zoe had evolved from antagonistic flirtation to committed partnership, mirroring Riley's and my journey in some ways. They'd moved in together three months ago, their opposite personalities balancing each other in ways that worked surprisingly well.

"Speaking of luck," Max said, lowering his voice conspiratorially, "when are you planning to tell everyone your other news? You know, the development in the, uh, family expansion department?"

I glanced toward the door, ensuring Riley wasn't within earshot. "Tonight, after the contract burning ceremony. How did you know?"

"Dude, Riley switched to sparkling water at team dinner last week," Max said with an eye roll. "And she actually turned green when Peterson ordered that fish special. Doesn't take a genius."

Before I could answer, Zoe slipped into the kitchen doorway. “The players are here,” she said, her voice hushed. “Diane’s greeting them all.”

Our penthouse gradually filled with the people who had witnessed and supported our unusual journey.

Gloria and Harold Whitman made a brief appearance, the team owner having gradually warmed to our relationship once he realized the positive PR it eventually generated. He delivered unexpectedly heartfelt congratulations, while Gloria pulled Riley aside for what appeared to be an intense but friendly conversation.

My parents and sister traveled from Minnesota for the occasion, their initial shock at our arrangement having transformed into genuine affection for Riley. My mother had become one of Riley's most enthusiastic recipe testers, while my father had surprised everyone by developing a late-life interest in culinary arts under Riley's patient tutelage.

Riley's family arrived last—her practical mother Ellen immediately taking charge of rearranging the appetizer display, her former coach father Jim engaging my father in what had become their traditional debate about hockey strategy evolution, and her brother Danny, now playing for a minor league team, immediately gravitating toward the professional players in attendance.

As guests mingled, I pulled Riley aside for a private moment before our official announcement.

"Everything okay?" she asked, her hand automatically straightening my tie though it hadn't moved.

"Perfect," I assured her, retrieving a box from my pocket. "I just wanted to give you something before we're surrounded by everyone all night."

Riley's eyes widened at the familiar legal-sized envelope beneath the small velvet box. "Is that...?"

"The original contract," I confirmed. "I thought we could finally put it to rest together."

She smiled, taking the envelope with reverent care. "Our beginning," she murmured, tracing the edge with her fingertip. "As unconventional as it was."

"Open the other one," I encouraged, suddenly nervous about the more significant gift.

When Riley opened the small velvet box, she gasped at the elegant sapphire earrings inside—a perfect match to her engagement ring. More significant than the jewelry was the accompanying note referencing a specific contract clause declaring "no children" during our arrangement.

With characteristic directness, I'd written:Contract clause 17.3 Expiration Notice: Formal amendment required regarding family expansion timeline.

Riley's expression transformed with understanding, her hand automatically moving to her still-flat stomach in silent confirmation of news she'd planned to share during our private celebration later.

Later, surrounded by friends and family, we participated in the symbolic burning of our original contract within a fire-safe champagne bucket. The document that had once defined our relationship disappeared into ash while our actual marriage continued strengthening with each passing day.

As Riley shared news of her pregnancy with our gathered guests, triggering enthusiastic celebration from both families, I watched my wife with quiet amazement. Her face was animated as she answered questions about due dates and nursery plans,her hand frequently finding mine as if to anchor our shared excitement.

"Well played, Matthews," Cooper said, clapping me on the shoulder as he joined me at the edge of the celebration. The veteran defenseman had become a close friend over the past year, his initial skepticism about our arrangement giving way to genuine support. "From contract marriage to baby announcement in one year. Talk about exceeding expectations."

I laughed, accepting the congratulations with a nod. "Nothing about this has followed the expected path."

"The best things never do," he replied with surprising wisdom. "You signed up for a business deal and ended up with a family. I'd call that the best contract negotiation in hockey history."

As the celebration continued around us, Riley found her way back to my side, her hand slipping naturally into mine. "Happy anniversary," she said softly, eyes shining with contentment.

---