Page 79

Then comes Quinn, who’s pink in the cheeks and dabbing her eyes with a napkin. “Abby’s always been the brave one. She’s the one who taught me how to ride a bike, how to sneak cookies without Mom noticing, and how to hold my head high even when things hurt. But today, watching her stand with Beck, I realize she’s found someone who holds her heart the way she deserves. Someone who makes her feel safeandwild again. I couldn’t be happier for you both.”

Abby clutches her hand, and the two of them hug as everyone claps.

Wes steps up next, looking like he might actually behave. “I was going to make a joke about Beck finally being off the market so the rest of us mere mortals can have a chance with Irondale’s ladies, but… nah.” He grins at us. “All I’m going to say is this—” he gestures toward Abby, Jake, and me. “This is what it looks like when love wins.”

Even Griff adds a toast—surprisingly sweet and brief—before disappearing to the dance floor with Jane.

Then I call Jake up to the head table. I can see he’s confused, but he trots up smiling and looking at me quizzically. Abby stands up with me as I reach for something on the table. “Jake, I want you to have this memory that we as a family came together in front of all these friends and family members. This paper I’m holding up is the judge’s decree of adoption. I’ve signed it but I would like you to sign it as well. Do you want to do that?” Jake is just overjoyed. After he signs the document, he grabs me around the neck and tells me how much he loves me. Then he calls me DADDY. Talk about my love basket being filled to the top! And off he trots to tell everyone who will listen about me being his “real daddy” now.

***

Then the festivities resume and the music shifts.

The DJ cues up the song we secretly picked weeks ago. It’s not a slow ballad. It’s not even traditional. It’s an upbeat swing of an old classic “L-O-V-E” by Nat King Cole, but with a modern twist.

Abby raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure you remember the steps?”

“Are you kidding?” I grin. “I practiced with your sister. Jake judged me the whole time.”

We step onto the dance floor.

And as the band kicks in, we launch into a choreographed swing routine—twirls, dips, a dramatic spin that ends with Abby laughing breathlessly in my arms. The crowd erupts. Jake is shouting “Go, Mom!” from the sidelines. And Wes is filming the whole thing for blackmail purposes, no doubt.

By the end, we’re both more than a little winded, but totally glowing.

“That,” Abby pants, fanning her face with her hand, “was insane.”

“But unforgettable,” I say, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

The party unfolds around us. There’s cake, kids chasing Spotty, and dancing under the stars.

Later, as the music slows down and the guests start to trickle away, I step aside with Greg near the lake’s edge. The moonlight reflects off the water, and for a moment, it’s just the two of us.

“Glad you came,” I say quietly.

He nods. “I almost didn’t.”

“I heard.” I swallow hard. “But I’m really glad you did.”

Greg shifts his glass in his hand. “For what it’s worth… I used to think I lost everything when I gave up hockey. But seeing you today—marrying her, loving Jake like your own—I realize I didn’t lose. I just took a different path.”

I look at him, my voice thick: “You’ll always be part of my team, Greg. No matter what.”

He clinks his glass against mine. “Right back at you.”

We stand there in silence, two brothers who once drifted apart, now stitched back together by forgiveness and time. Greg leaves to join Daniel with a promise to stay connected now that we have found each other.

Abby joins me a few minutes later, her heels dangling from one hand and her other arm around my waist.

“So…” she says. “Ready to kick off the honeymoon?”

“Oh, absolutely. You still good with the plan?”

“Couldn’t be more ready.”

The plan is to spend three days in a family cabin near Maplewood Falls, just the three of us—me, Abby, and Jake. Canoeing, stargazing, making s’mores. Jake even has a special “Honeymoon Buddy Badge” he designed himself, which he wore proudly at the reception.

Then Quinn and Wes will take over kid duty, and Abby and I will fly to a small beach cottage in the Virgin Islands for a quiet, private week—just the two of us. No distractions. No hockey. No deadlines. Just waves, hammocks, and love.

I glance down at her now, my new wife, barefoot and beautiful, and feel something inside me settle completely.

“We’re really doing this,” I murmur.

She smiles at me. “We already did.”

And with her hand in mine, we step into the warmth and laughter of our new forever.

***