Page 89 of Pucking the Single Dad
The crowd roared approval, reading triumph where I meant truth. This was the end of my career—my knee would never recover, we all knew it. But it was also the start of everything else: Serena and I navigating pregnancy together,Finn getting a sibling, our strange little family adding another complicated piece.
"Brad?" Serena whispered as chaos erupted around us—champagne and music and teammates celebrating. "I love you. Even though you can't skate anymore."
"I love you too. Even though you tried to give our kid the wrong inhaler."
"That's not funny."
"It's a little funny."
Finn looked between us, then at the Cup, then at Serena's stomach. "Is the baby gonna have breathing problems too?"
We both froze. It was the question we'd both been thinking but couldn't voice.
"Maybe," Serena said carefully. "But if they do, we already know what to do. We've got practice."
"And I can teach them," Finn added, brightening. "I'm really good at breathing exercises now."
Someone sprayed champagne directly in my face. The moment shattered into celebration—Theo lifting Finn onto his shoulders, Sarah's parents crying and hugging Serena, the Cup being passed around like a holy relic. But through it all, I kept one hand on Serena's waist, anchoring us both.
The proposal wasn't planned—nothing about us ever was. My destroyed knee had finally gone numb from whatever chemical cocktail Dr. Patricia had injected, which meant I could kneel without screaming. So I did, right there on melting ice, while twenty thousand people watched and Finn clung to my neck like a koala.
"What are you doing?" Serena's eyes went wide. "Brad, your knee—"
"Serena Voss." My voice cracked. Around us, teammates were spraying champagne and wrestling over the Cup, but they all stopped, creating a circle like this was some ancient ritual. "You literally blew into our lives during a storm. You've sat through seventeen breathing treatments at 3 AM. You know which nostril Finn prefers for nasal spray. You're carrying our baby—"
She pressed her hands to her mouth, tears streaming down her face.
My brain felt scrambled. One baby still seemed impossible to wrap my head around. One meant everything would change. One meant double the love but also double the worry about respiratory issues, about being good enough—
"Are you gonna ask her or just stay frozen like that?" Theo's voice cut through my spiral. "Your knee's about to give out and this is being broadcast nationally."
"Right. Shit. Serena—" I started over, aware that the cameras were definitely catching this entire proposal. "Will you marry me? Will you be the person who reminds Finn that vegetables aren't poison and makes sure I don't ignore doctor's orders? Will you build this crazy, beautiful life with us?"
She was cry-laughing, that hiccup thing she did when overwhelmed. "Oh god, I’m not even properly dressed. This is the worst timing ever."
"Is that a no?"
"Of course it's not a no, you idiot."
Theo materialized with a ring box like a magic trick. "Finally," he muttered, pressing it into my hand. "I've been carrying this thing for three weeks."
"You bought a ring three weeks ago?" Serena stared at me.
"No, two months ago. Theo's been holding it because I kept chickening out."
The ring was simple—she'd hate anything flashy. A solitaire that caught the arena lights and threw tiny rainbows, like hope crystallized into carbon. My hands shook as I slid it on. It fit perfectly because of course Theo had somehow figured out her ring size, probably through Maria.
"Daddy, why is everyone crying?" Finn asked from his perch on my shoulders.
"Happy tears, buddy. We're getting married."
"Does that mean Miss Serena can't leave anymore?"
The innocence of it gutted everyone in earshot.
"I'm never leaving," Serena promised, reaching up to squeeze his hand. "Even when you're a teenager and hate us."
"Teenagers plural," I reminded her. "Don’t forget the baby."
