Page 140 of Don't Puck His Best Friend
"Me too."
She falls asleep before I do, her breathing evening out, her body warm against mine. I lie awake for a while, thinking about everything that's happened this year. The fights, the drama, the almost-losing her.
But we made it. We're here. And tomorrow, we'll wake up and choose each other again, and the day after that, and the day after that.
That's enough.
That's everything.
50
Epilogue – One Year Later
Harper
Thearenaisloud.So much louder than college games ever were. The crowd is bigger, the energy is more intense, and the stakes feel higher even though it's just a regular season game.
I'm wearing Cole's jersey—his professional jersey now, with his new team's logo—and I can't stop smiling. A year ago, we were stuck in midterms, not sure where life would take us. Now we're here. Cole is playing professional hockey, and I'm sitting in the family section of an NHL arena watching him live his dream.
My phone buzzes. A text from Maddie.
Maddie:Tell him to score a goal so I can win my bet with Sirus.
Maddie:I said he'd score in the first period tonight. Sirus said he wouldn’t. $50 is on the line.
I laugh and send back a fingers-crossed emoji.
The game is intense. Cole's line is fast, aggressive, and I can see him out there doing what he does best. He's different now than he was in college—more confident, more polished, but still the same guy who made me fall in love with him.
I think back to when I was so sure that chaos and intensity meant love. That the harder something was, the more real it must be.
But Cole taught me different. He taught me that love can be steady and strong. That choosing someone every day is more romantic than any grand gesture. That peace is better than passion that burns you out.
The first period ends and he doesn’t make a goal.
The second period starts, and Cole's line is on the ice. He's got the puck, weaving through defenders like they're standing still. He passes to his winger, who shoots and misses. The puck bounces back to Cole, and he's right in front of the net.
He shoots.
Goal.
The arena erupts. I'm on my feet screaming, along with everyone else in the family section. Cole's teammates mob him on the ice, and when he finally breaks free, he looks up at the stands and points directly at me.
My heart squeezes so tight I can barely breathe.
Me:Does scoring in the first couple minutes of second period count?
Maddie:Yes!
After the game, I wait outside the locker room with the other wives and girlfriends. They're nice, welcoming, asking about my job and if I'm adjusting to the city okay. I am adjusting. Better than I expected, actually.
My marketing job is challenging but good. I'm learning a lot, working with interesting clients, building a career I'm proud of. And at the end of every day, I get to come home to Cole. To our apartment. To our life.
Cole finally emerges from the locker room, hair still damp, wearing his suit. He looks good. Professional. Grown up.
He walks straight to me and kisses me, ignoring the cameras and the other people around us.
"Congratulations on your first game," I say against his lips.
