Page 71 of From Ice to Home
The team resets, lining up at center ice. Just as Lucas steals the puck, a player from the Leafs aims for him. I hold my breath, waiting for the hit when Declan appears from the side, throwing a massive hit on the Toronto player. He hits him into the boards, his elbow crashing into his face before both of them fall to the ice. The crunch of the collision echoes through the arena and the crowd leaps to their feet. Declan loses his helmet in the scuffle and shoves the Toronto player again.
The linesmen step in between the players, separating them as the whistle blows. Declan’s face is filled with fury and he obviously shouts at the linesman before skating toward the penalty box. He doesn’t wait for the call, already knowing he’ll get his two minutes.
The ref steps up onto the red line. “Double minor, interference and unsportsmanlike conduct. Four minutes.”
“Murphy doesn’t hold back,” Avah mutters under her breath, her tone laced with a mix of admiration and irritation.
“It almost sounds like you like him,” I say, wondering if that’s part of the reason she’s having such a hard time around Megan.
Avah looks at me with a raised brow. “I never said he wasn’t talented. Even I can see that the Rangers wouldn’t be the same without him on defense. But as a guy…” she winces. “Meh.”
I can’t help but laugh at her analysis of Declan Murphy. I get the feeling he doesn’t do life halfway, and it’s something I can appreciate.
The third and final period starts and the tension in the arena is palpable. The Leafs will have to fight for a win if they want to stand a chance. Nikolai is in the crease, tapping the goalposts with his stick in an odd series. Declan is in the penalty box for another two minutes and they’ll have to play with their captain as their only defensemen.
The Leafs pick up the puck, their center barreling straight toward Petrov. Lucas tries to block him off, forcing the Leafs’center to swerve behind the net, and tuck the puck past Petrov right at the goalpost.
It’s in.
The Toronto Maple Leafs do their own celebration on the ice, high-fiving the rest of the team on the bench before heading back to their positions.
They’re still ahead, but the Leafs have gained some momentum with that goal. And it shows in the way they play.
As they reset, Declan gets back on the ice and the Rangers are full-strength. For most of the period, it’s a battle between the two teams. The Leafs are eager to get another goal on the board while the Rangers want to keep their two-goal lead at all costs.
They’re facing off in the neutral zone, the clock winding down with less than two minutes left in the game. Just as the Leafs swarm the offensive zone, they pull their goalie out of the net, sending a sixth player into the zone to help score and tie this game.
It’s a battle in the Rangers’ defensive zone, neither team giving ground as the clock winds down. The puck is passed from stick to stick, bodies clash, fans are on their feet. With eight seconds to go, Lucas manages to get the puck away from their center, sending it out of their zone. The puck sails down the ice, straight into the empty net.
The horn blares, the music hits, and the arena erupts around us.
A rush of pride fills me as I join everyone, jumping up, my throat raw from cheering. But it doesn’t matter, because this is Lucas’s moment and I’m here to see it.
Avah hugs me, smiling. “Looks like your husband just sent the Rangers to the finals!”
All Glory to God!
16
LUCAS
The game was brutal. It was fast, physical, and relentless from the first puck drop. Toronto came at us like a team with nothing to lose, and they didn’t let up for a second. But seeing my girl jumping up everytime I scored, wearing my number, gave me just the boost I needed to keep fighting. The hits didn’t matter, or the chirps…I was flying high. And everytime I faced off with Toronto, the verse Hannah gave me stared back up at me:
“If God is for us, who can be against us.”
She remembered our pre-game ritual and it gave me more strength to secure the win for the Rangers. I have no idea how I played without her here before. It’s by God’s grace alone that I made it this far while playing with a hole in my heart. A void that I’ve felt so strongly every time I thought about her, a void that God filled with His presence and His silent promises.
Now, I’m here. My team is going to the Stanley cup finals and my wife is at my side.
God is good. God is good. God is good.
The restaurant management secured for us tonight is nothing like our usual celebration spots. The entire top floorhas been reserved for us, floor-to-ceiling windows frame an amazing view of Central Park, the city lights flickering like fireflies in the night. A soft golden glow from the chandeliers bathes the room, reflecting off the sleek black tables set with crisp white linens and polished silverware. It’s high-end but not stuffy—there’s an energy in the air, a current of excitement running through the place.
This place feels different. Maybe because I’m different. There was a time when post-game celebrations involved the club scene. The endless revolving door of loud noise, women and drinks did nothing but dull the ache for a few hours. It was a time spent with the guys after practice and games, searching for something to fill the void. It was only later that I realized that the answer wasn’t in women who weren’t Hannah, or even a drink. I only found comfort in God and the hope that He had a plan for me.
Entering the restaurant with Hannah tucked beneath my arm, I take in the black leather furniture, the warm wood paneling, and the hum of conversation. Waiters in crisp black vests weave between tables, balancing trays of perfectly plated dishes. Laughter and the occasional pop of a champagne bottle mix with the subtle background music.
It looks a lot like the restaurant in Vegas. The dim lighting, the cozy yet upscale vibe—it tugs at something in me, bringing back that night I saw Hannah from across the room.
