And together, we drive home, leaving the past behind us where it belongs.
Epilogue
SIX MONTHS LATER
The final game of the regular season is at Madison Square Garden against the Long Island Runners. A win clinches a playoff spot. A loss and we're watching from home in April.
The arena is packed to the rafters with nineteen thousand fans who have been on this ride with us all season. The noise is enormous, rolling down from the upper deck in waves that vibrate through the tunnel floor.
I'm not thinking about the game, though. My mind is on the ring box I’ve been carrying around for two weeks, waiting for the perfect moment.
Tonight. I'm doing it tonight.
Unless we lose. If we lose, do I still propose? Do I drop to one knee after we've just been eliminated from the playoffs? Is that the memory she carries forever — her engagement tied to the worst night of the season?
I run through the scenarios while I stretch in the tunnel. Dom helped me pick the setting over FaceTime, and then I called Lorraine to ask for her blessing.
She was quiet on the phone for a long time, and then she said, “It's about damn time, Logan Shaw,” and I could hear her crying and trying to hide it.
Cole taps his stick on the ground. “Let's go get this, boys.”
We hit the ice. The roar from the crowd washes over us, and my body switches on.
I scan the family section during warm-ups, my eyes moving over the girls, then further up to my parents.
Next to Mom, in a seat that would have been unimaginable six months ago, is Lorraine. She's wearing a Renegades scarf that Jasmine bought her. She's been to four games this season.
And then I shift my gaze to Jasmine.
She's wearing my jersey. Number twenty-four. Shaw across the back. Her black hair spills over the collar. She made partner at Caldwell, Price & Associates three weeks ago.
Lorraine closed the boutique for the afternoon and drove into the city, and the three of us had dinner together. I sat across from the two Bennett women and thought about how lucky I am to love someone this extraordinary.
The puck drops, and the game is fast. The Runners come out aggressively. Nolan is playing like a man possessed. He beats me to a loose puck in the corner in the first period and sets up a goal that gives the Runners a 1-0 lead.
Cole ties it up late in the first on a redirect from Blake's point shot. The arena explodes. In the second period, I jump into the rush on a two-on-one with Liam. He slides the puck across, and I one-time it past the Runners' goalie.
2-1 Renegades. Liam crashes into me at the glass and screams something I can't hear over the crowd.
The third period is a war. The Runners push hard. With four minutes left, Jake intercepts a pass at center ice and goes in alone on a breakaway. He dekes the goalie and slides it five-hole. 3-2. The building shakes.
The final two minutes take a lifetime. Blake and I are on the ice for the entire two minutes, blocking shots, clearing pucks, grinding through every second. A shot hits my shin pad, and another goes wide.
The clock ticks down. Ten seconds. Five. The buzzer sounds.
The arena erupts. The boys pour off the bench. Cole grabs me and pulls me into the pile at center ice. Liam is on top of the pile, screaming. Jake is at the bottom, laughing.
I find Nolan in the handshake line. He grabs my jersey and pulls me close. “Hell of a season, big brother. Now go do what you need to do.”
“What do you mean?”
“Dom told me about the ring, you idiot. Go.”
I skate to the tunnel. I pull off my helmet and gloves and jog to the locker room. The ring box is in my bag where I left it. I open it and check the diamond.
It catches the fluorescent light. I close the box and put it in the pocket of my hockey pants, which is not where engagement rings are supposed to go, but I'm not changing out of my gear for this.
I walk back to the tunnel entrance. Jasmine is already there, standing against the concrete wall, tears streaming down her face, her hands pressed over her mouth.
