For a long moment, they lay there, still joined, his forehead pressed to hers as their breathing slowed. His hand found hers, fingers lacing together, and he pressed a tender kiss to her lips, soft and lingering.
“I love you,” he whispered, the words raw and unguarded, and Sunny felt them settle into her soul, sealing this moment as theirs alone — a reclaiming of everything they’d nearly lost.
Sunny’s head rested on Liam’s chest, his heartbeat a steadying drum beneath her ear, his fingers tracing idle patterns along her spine.
“I missed this,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to the warm skin beneath his cheek. “Not just the physical part. Being close to you like this. Feeling safe.”
Liam’s arms tightened around her. “You’ll always be safe with me,” he promised, voice rough with emotion. “I know I failed you before, but—”
“Shh,” Sunny interrupted, lifting her head to meet his troubled gaze. “We’re past that now. Clean slate, remember?”
The tension in his expression eased somewhat, though a shadow of regret lingered in his eyes. “Clean slate,” he agreed.
Later, as Liam’s breathing deepened into sleep, his arm still wrapped protectively around her waist, Sunny gazed at the unfamiliar patterns of moonlight dancing across the ceiling of what was now their bedroom. For the first time in her memory, she felt no urge to escape, no restless anxiety about the temporary nature of happiness.
This is what belonging feels like, she realized with quiet wonder. This is home.
The thought followed her into dreams filled with laughter and light, with family dinners and bedtime stories, with a future stretching out before her like an open road — uncertain in its details but anchored in the knowledge that whatever came next, she would no longer face it alone.
Liam
Dawn crept through the curtains of Liam’s childhood bedroom, painting slashes of gold across the faded hockey posters his parents had never taken down. He’d been awake for hours, watching the darkness slowly retreat, feeling each minute tick by with stark clarity. Sleep had abandoned him somewhere around three in the morning, leaving him alone with memories and anticipation.
He reached for the nightstand, fingers closing around the worn hockey puck — a twin to the one he’d left at Sunny’s stepfather’s grave when he was desperately searching for her. It had become something of a talisman since then, a physical reminder of the moment he’d chosen to fight for what mattered.
“Not getting cold feet, are you?” His father’s voice, accompanied by the scent of fresh coffee, pulled Liam from his thoughts. Michael Anderson stood in the doorway, two steaming mugs in hand, looking surprisingly comfortable in the suit pants and undershirt of his formal attire.
“No,” Liam said, sitting up and accepting the coffee with a grateful nod. “Not at all.”
His father settled on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. “Then what?”
Liam stared into the dark liquid, searching for words. “I’m not sure I deserve it, maybe. This second chance.”
His father wasquiet for a long moment. “You know, when you were about sixteen, you came home after losing that championship game. Remember? The one where you missed the—”
“The penalty shot. Yeah, I remember.” Liam grimaced. Some failures never quite faded.
“You were convinced you’d never play hockey again. That you didn’t deserve to.” His father’s eyes, the same shade of blue as his own, crinkled at the corners. “I told you then what I’ll tell you now. Life isn’t about what we deserve, son. It’s about what we do with what we’re given.”
“I already made a mess of the proposal,” Liam admitted.
His father smiled. “You didn’t tell me that part.”
“We were at the park with the girls. I had this whole speech planned, but then Maddie scraped her knee, and Hailey found a frog, and everything went sideways.” Liam chuckled softly at the memory. “I ended up asking her while we were washing mud off Hailey’s hands at the water fountain. Not exactly romantic.”
“And what did she say?”
Liam’s lips curved into a smile. “She said it was perfect because it was real. That’s what she loves, the real stuff. Even the messy parts.”
A knock at the door interrupted them.
Tyler Reynolds, team captain and best man, poked his head in, already fully dressed in his suit.
“The guys are here. You ready to get moving, or should I tell them you’ve made a run for it?” Tyler’s grin was wide and his eyes were kind.
Liam set down his coffee. “Tell them I’ll be right there.”
After his father left, Liam showered and began to dress, laying out the new suit he’d bought for the occasion. As he buttoned his shirt, his teammates filed in, bringing with them a wave of cheerful energy and good-natured ribbing.
