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I move to him, touch his jaw. “But we’re back here now,” I say. “We’re talking. We’re going to figure it out.”
He shakes his head but doesn’t move away. Instead, he comes closer, wraps me in his arms, and God, that feels nice. “I almost lost you. God, baby, how can I ever make it up to you?”
“We talk,” I tell him. “We check in. We get some fucking therapy. And”—I pull back, stare deep into his eyes—“you listen to your doctor’s advice and you get treatment so you can stick around with us for a long time.”
His face gentles. “How did I ever think I could do this without you?”
Deep inside, something heals.
It’s not perfect.
How can it be?
But…it’s like the edges of that wound are starting to itch, preparing themselves to heal.
“We’ve never done anything small, have we?” I ask. “Divorce instead of talking. Winning Stanley Cups in arenas that hold twenty thousand plus people. Courtship on national TV, our relationship troubles broadcast just as wide.”
He grins. Finally. And I feel that wound start to close. “No, baby. We’ve never done anything small.”
“So we’re going to keep doing that.” I take his hand. “Living big and doing it together. No more secrets. No more hiding away. No more trying to do it on our own.”
The last is said as a warning.
And he knows it.
Which is why he grins and draws me closer. “I love you, Brit Plantain.”
“I love you, Stefan Barie.”
He rests his forehead against mine, sighs. “And I know I’ve got work to do—with you, with Rox, with beating this fucking disease once and for all, but I promise to make this right, to make it up to you, to?—”
My heart squeezes. “How about instead of trying to make it right, to fix all the broken pieces that won’t ever be the same, we move forward?” A beat. “Together.”
His inhale is sharp, but then he nods, bending so that our mouths are aligned, our lips touching, and?—
“Did Mom accept your apology, Dad?”
We freeze, lips barely brushing, and then I start laughing.
And, best of all, so does he. And Rox. And Tiff when she ventures back into the kitchen.
And then…
We all pull it together and go buy Squishmallows.
Because everyone knows about the healing properties of stuffed animals.
Epilogue
Brit, three months later
The buzzer has gone.
The game is over.
But I’m getting back onto the ice as usual.
It’s a comfortable place, has always been one of my favorite places.
