Page 105 of Slots & Sticks
“You gave it to me,” she says, so sincerely that it makes my chest ache. “It was important.”
I lean in to kiss her, but she hops back onto the bed, scattering our memories across the comforter. The dogs retreat, unimpressed.
Pulling her into my lap, I cradle her face in my hands. Her thumb strokes my jaw, her eyes glinting with a thousand tiny memories. “I love you,” she whispers, fierce and unshaken. “You have no idea.”
“Oh, Dot.” My thumb traces her lip. “I’ve had every idea since we were kids.”
When I kiss her this time, it isn’t a shy brush of mouths—it’s the culmination of every postcard, every look, every day spent waiting.
My wife.
My partner.
The only home I’ve ever wanted. She tastes like champagne and tears, and the sound she makes against my lips tells me she feels it too.
From the nightstand, Mira’s soft voice stirs the quiet. “I will now power down for the evening unless further interaction is required.”
Dot giggles. “We’ve got it from here, Mira.”
A pause. Then, “Acknowledged. I will power down… on my own this time.”
We both burst out laughing, heads pressed together, the past behind us, the future wide open. Tomorrow can wait. Tonight, we’re just two kids who never gave up—finally home, finally safe, finally seen.
Epilogue
Dot
I’ve never been in a boy’s locker room, not in elementary school, not in college, and definitely not in a professional NHL context. But I’ve been wracking my brain for a solution, and the plastic baggie tucked into my sweatshirt is burning a hole in my front pocket.
I open the door a crack and peek inside, in case someone is lingering inside, like a janitor or a bouncer. Or Dante.
My pulse is a jackhammer. I’m about to sneak a pee stick into my husband’s locker like a hormonal cat prowler committing a felony. This is either going to be the most romantic surprise ever… or my villain origin story.
I couldn’t just tell him. That’s not how we do things. I needed a moment, a story, a little chaos with a happy ending.
There is, of course, no bouncer, since it’s not a freaking bar. I scoot the door open a little more in anticipation of my reverse-heist.
“Dot?”
I about jump out of my skin as I whirl to slam my back against the door. “I’m allowed to be here!” I screech. “I’m married to a player!”
Violet stands behind me, clipboard in hand, wearing a bemused expression. “I know. I was at your wedding.”
“Oh. Hi, Violet.” I collapse against the closed door with my heart pounding a mile a minute. Which I’ve never understood, because sixty miles an hour isn’t that fast, but whatever. “You scared me.”
“Is there a reason you’re stalking the team locker rooms?” she asks.
I promised myself that Camden would be the first to know, but I have to admit, this looks incriminating. I fish the bag out of my hoodie and hold it up so that the results of the pregnancy tests are facing Vi.
“OHHH, BABY-MAMA ALERT!” Vi claps and goes up on her tippy toes. “You’re glowing, you’re nauseous, you’re holding contraband urine—congratulations!” She squints at the baggie. “So… what’s the plan here? Leave it next to his mouthguard? Because that’s a bacteria crossover no one needs.”
“I was going to hide it in his locker,” I mutter.
“Oh, no, no, no.” She holds out her hand. “Give it here. We’re going big. Public spectacle. Jumbotron tears. FullLove Actuallyon ice.”
No doubt this will end in a much more public spectacle than I was hoping for, but Camden will probably love it. “Thanks, Vi, you’re a lifesaver.”
Unburdened of my positive pregnancy test, I hustle out to the ice. Just as Vi said, the game hasn’t gotten started yet. The guys are in warm-up mode, stretching, shooting, and skating laps. Sofia and Knova are also waiting by the glass to offer their traditional pre-game kisses to Knight and Viktor respectively.
