Page 29

Epilogue II

Blake

TWENTY YEARS LATER

I stand in the VIP box that now bears my name at 'The Nest', heart pounding just like it did during my own debut all those years ago. The familiar roar of the fans fills my ears, but this time I'm not the one they're cheering for.

"And now, making his debut for your Iron Ridge Icehawks, number fourteen, Tommy Maddox!"

My chest swells with pride as my son flies onto the ice, his dark hair peeking out from under his helmet just like mine used to. He's got his mother's grace though, shown in the way he glides across the surface before my watering eyes.

"Look at him go." Sophia squeezes my hand, her eyes glistening. "Just like his daddy."

I pull her closer, remembering all those years ago when she first stumbled onto this same ice. "Better. He's got your brains."

Jackson Maze, now assistant coach after a cruel injury cut his journey short, gives Tommy a fist bump as he takes his position. Mikey Harris, our starting center, circles past with a nod. They both came up through the program, just like Tommy did. Just like I did.

My gaze drifts to Eli's empty seat beside us, now bronzed with a small plaque. He'd be proud to see this – how his legacy lives on through every kid who finds their way home on this ice.

The puck drops. Tommy wins it clean, dishes it to Mikey on the wing. The crowd erupts, and I'm transported back to my own first game, but this time I'm watching my son live out his dream, surrounded by the family we built – both on and off the ice.

Tommy takes control of the puck again, and my heart races faster than it ever did during my own games. The crowd surges to their feet as he dekes past two defenders.

"That's our boy," Sophia whispers, squeezing my hand.

She's wearing Tommy's number fourteen jersey, and even after all these years, she still takes my breath away. Her confidence radiates as she leans forward, completely invested in every play, just like any CEO of a hockey team should be.

That's right.

A woman as the CEO of a NHL brand?

My girl is the first.

A trailblazer like no other. The same fire that challenged me all those years ago now burns even brighter as she runs the entire organization.

My phone buzzes – a text from Sarah. My chest tightens as I read her message: "Tell Tommy I'm watching! Love you, Dad."

God, I miss my little girl. She's halfway across the country at Georgetown, pursuing her law degree. Couldn't be prouder of her choosing her own path, even if it meant leaving the ice behind.

She's always been brilliant like her mother, with a sharp mind that questions every goddamn thing. Last time we talked, she was heading up some environmental law society, fighting the good fight.

That's my baby girl – never backing down from a challenge.

Watching Tommy handle the puck in the big boys league brings it all rushing back.

My first game. The roar of the stadium, the weight of that jersey on my shoulders. Then years later, standing at center ice as Captain, determined to make Eli proud.

I've done it all with the Icehawks, including the biggest prize of them all.

Sophia.

God, that first game she attended. She sat in the corporate box looking like sin in her corporate suit. I raised my fist, cocky and determined to show her what hockey really meant.

Instead, she knocked me on my ass with one quirked eyebrow and that damn smile.

Now here we are. Our son on the ice. Our daughter changing the world. And my wife - the most powerful woman in hockey.

Life is so damn good.

I grip Sophia's thigh, unable to resist touching her even after all these years. The silk of her skirt slides beneath my palm as I lean in close, my lips brushing her ear.

"After the game, would you like to come home with me, Sophia Hart?"

She shivers - that same delicious little tremor I've been addicted to since our first dance.

Her hazel eyes sparkle with mischief as she turns to face me.

"We live together, you idiot. And don't call me that. I'm Mrs. Maddox."

"Fuck yeah, you are."

Twenty years together and she still drives me absolutely fucking crazy. Whether she's running board meetings or curled up on our couch in my old Icehawks sweater, she's everything I never knew I needed.

My hand slides higher on her thigh, and she swats it away playfully.

"Behave yourself, Captain. We're in public."

"Never stopped us before." I think back to that first time on the team plane, how she bit her lip to keep quiet while I-

"Blake." Her warning tone brings me back to the present, but I catch the flush creeping up her neck. "Watch your son's game. If you can keep your hands to yourself for the next hour, and I'll let you ruin me when we get home."

"Fine. I'll keep my hands to myself."

I lean back in my seat, but stubborn as ever, I keep my hand on her knee.

Just to piss her off.

Because some things never change.

THE END…

but not really.