Two minutes left, and we’re still up by one. I only realize I’m standing when my knees start to shake.
One minute left, and this is the moment we weren’t sure about—whether the Penguins would come together, or fly apart.
Luca owes me five bucks when Olsen starts a fight, earning himself a spot in the penalty box and sending the Frost into a power play. It’s almost just adding insult to injury when Cal sinks a shot into the net just seconds before the end of the game, bringing the lead up to two and securing the win.
The crowd starts to go wild with just five seconds left on the clock, when it’s clear this game is over. Luca and Cal skate together on the ice, their bodies colliding hard, their arms flying around each other. The Milwaukee Frost have just won the Stanley Cup.
After years and years of working toward this, fighting for this, taking a risk and planning his entire life around this franchise, Luca did it. He took the Frost to the Stanley Cup.
Gloves and helmets fly on the ice. I swear to god I’m not a crier, and yet here I am, tears running down my cheeks, a sense of effervescent joy bursting in my chest so potently I have to open my mouth, to let out some noise just to release the pressure.
He did it.Wedid it.
They’re swiftly clearing the ice, bringing out the Cup. The announcer’s voice booms through the arena, announcing The Frost as the champions. Then, his voice returns, announcing Luca as the MVP of today’s game.
I watch through teary eyes as he skates over, accepts the Cup, and does his lap with it held up over his head. A moment later, an arm flies around my shoulder, and I realize it’s Sloane, crying and laughing, coming down from the box even though Vic forbade her from working. She’s supposed to be on maternity leave, up in the stands, not down here with us.
Then Luca’s parents are there, and we’re all laughing and hugging like a family that wears matching Christmas sweaters. Ruby and Astrid appear, both flushed and shining with pride.
Each guy on the team takes his turn with the cup, and when Cal goes right after Luca, Sloane screams so loud it hurtsmythroat. Leo stands in his dad’s jersey, cheering so loudly his voice is hoarse when Maverick comes out on the ice.
As the guys huddle back up on the ice, celebrating together with the Cup, I turn to Sloane, slinging my arm around her again, needing someone to hold me up.
I’m so lost in the joy of the moment—in the cheering fans and confetti and booming applause—that I don’t see Uncle Vic coming over until his hand is on my back. His mouth moves, and at first, I throw myself into him, hugging him, thinking it’s what he wants.
When he pulls back hastily, he’s laughing, shaking his head, pointing toward the ice. Tears are running down his red face, too, but somehow, it doesn’t seem like he’s wholly focused on the win in this moment.
“Go,” I see him mouth, because noise simply can’t travel in the sonic waves around us.
Then it dawns on me—Vic is telling me to celebrate with Luca. To go out there on the ice.
I turn, entire body shaking as I face the rink, jump over the boards and join the guys on the ice. I’m terrified that someone—maybe a ref or a security person—is going to stop me, but then the guys are there, the Frost with their hands on me, guiding me to the middle and making sure I don’t fall.
It’s easier to walk on the ice than I thought. When I look back, I realize none of the others—not Luca’s family, Astrid or Sloane—are coming with.
“Where’s Luca?” I ask, turning and finding Cal in the group, but he only smiles and jerks his head.
And when I follow that movement, I find him.
On one knee, right in the center of the Frost’s snowflake symbol, his damp golden hair loose over his forehead.
“Oh,” I say, dumbly, because somehow, even knowing everything and being the best strategist in the league, I didn’t see this coming.
“Wren Beaumont,” he says, “love of my life. Girl of my dreams. Will you marry me?”
I nod, stepping forward, heart thundering at the magic of the moment, and when he wraps me up in his arms, instead of saying yes, I say, “I love you.”
Epilogue - Luca
“Uncle Luca!”
Where one goes, another is sure to follow, and there are only a few seconds between the first little pair of arms flying around me and the second immediately after. Their voices fill Callum and Sloane’s entryway as they speak over one another, telling me about everything from the flavor of the cake to how big the presents are.
“We’re going up!” I announce, to which the twins giggle and squeeze tight to me. I grab them around the middle and stand, lumbering forward like I’m a giant and they’re urchins stuck to me.
“Again, again!”
“Give Uncle Luca a rest,” Sloane orders, and the twins obey, turning around and setting their sights on their father instead. Sloane is practically glowing, and I suspect that even two years later, it’s still from the feat of keeping her secret about twins from all of us—including Mom and Dad.
