Page 80 of Check & Chase (Breakaway #1)

Emma

Epilogue - Two Years Later

“ E asy there, champion. Small steps.”

Chase’s voice carries across the backyard rink as he crouches on the ice, his hands steadying our son’s mittened fingers while he offers quiet encouragement.

Ethan Mitchell, fifteen months old and already determined to conquer the ice, wobbles precariously on miniature double-bladed skates, his chubby legs splayed in an instinctive battle against gravity.

I watch from the edge, one hand pressed subtly against my stomach where nausea has been my unwelcome companion for the past few days.

The cold seeps through my heavy sweater, but I barely notice, transfixed by the sight of my husband teaching our son the fundamentals of a sport that defines both of us.

“That’s it, buddy,” Chase encourages as Ethan manages to stand momentarily without leaning his entire weight forward. “Find your center, just like that.”

Our son’s face screws up in concentration, a miniature version of Chase’s, before breaking into a delighted giggle. His dark brown hair peeks out from beneath a tiny Wolves hat, his green eyes—definitely mine—wide with excitement .

“He’s a natural!” Richard calls from the sidelines, where both sets of grandparents have gathered for this momentous occasion.

“Just like his parents,” Patricia agrees, camera clicking constantly.

Chase glances my way, that familiar grin spreading across his face. “Come on, Em. Get out here and show him how it’s done. He needs to see his mama’s skills.”

My stomach lurches at the thought of getting on the ice. “I’m good watching from here.”

“Ma!” Ethan declares, pointing excitedly in my direction. “Ma! Ice!”

“See? He wants you out here too,” Chase says, skating closer. “One quick skate around?”

I swallow against a fresh wave of nausea. “You’re doing great with him, babe. He doesn’t need me stumbling around out there.”

His eyebrows raise slightly. Emma Mitchell turning down ice time is like the sun rising in the west—theoretically possible but highly suspicious.

“Stumbling around?” he repeats. “Since when do you stumble on ice?”

Before I can respond, the backyard gate opens, bringing the sound of familiar voices. Jackson enters with Maya, both laden with packages.

“Are we late?” Jackson asks, making a show of checking his watch. “Someone insisted we couldn’t arrive empty-handed.”

Maya rolls her eyes dramatically. “What he means is, someone spent three hours having these custom-made when the store-bought ones weren’t ‘special enough’ for his nephew.”

Jackson steps up to me and offers a small gift wrapped in paper. “For the future Wolves champion.”

I unwrap the gift carefully, though the motion makes my stomach lurch slightly. Inside lies a pair of tiny white leather skates—real ones, not the double-bladed beginner ones Ethan is currently wearing.

“Jack,” I breathe, running my fingers over the small boots. “These are beautiful. But he won’t be ready for single blades for at least another year. ”

“Something to grow into,” he shrugs. “Had them made with extra ankle support. Kid’s going to need all the help he can get with Mitchell genes weighing him down.”

“I can hear you!” Chase calls from the ice, though his mock offense is belied by his genuine smile.

Jackson steps onto the ice carefully, crossing to where Chase still supports Ethan’s uncertain balance.

“Look what Uncle Jackson brought you, buddy.” Chase nods toward the skates. “For when you’re a big boy skater.”

Ethan reaches for the shiny white boots with acquisitive enthusiasm, nearly toppling over in the process. “Mine!”

“Soon,” Jackson promises, crouching to eye level. “But first you need to learn the basics.”

“Speaking of…” Chase turns back to me. “Come on, babe. Get on this ice with us.”

The suggestion makes my stomach flip dangerously. “I’m really okay watching—”

“Ma ice! Ma ice!” Ethan calls again, more insistently. “Ma come! Please!”

“You heard the boss,” Chase grins, holding out his hand. “Come on. Just for a few minutes.”

I can feel both mothers watching me now—Patricia with growing suspicion, and Mom with the kind of gentle concern that comes from knowing your child better than anyone.

“I don’t feel like skating today,” I say, the words coming out sharper than I intend.

Chase’s expression shifts from playful to concerned. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” I reply quickly, but even I can hear how unconvincing it sounds.

“Emma,” Mom murmurs gently, stepping closer and placing a warm hand on my arm. “Sweetheart, you do look a little pale. And you barely touched your lunch. ”

“She’s right,” Patricia chimes in. “You’ve been unusually quiet today too.”

“I’m just tired,” I deflect, but the way both women are studying me tells me they’re putting pieces together.

“Tired,” both women repeat in unison, then look at each other with knowing glances.

Patricia’s gaze drops to where my hand instinctively rests on my stomach. “And not wanting to get on the ice. Feeling off all week.”

“Plus barely eating,” Mom adds, her voice growing more excited. “Emma, when was the last time you turned down seconds at dinner?”

Heat creeps up my neck as I realize how transparent I’ve become. “You two are like detectives—”

“Oh my God,” Maya suddenly blurts out, her eyes widening as she processes what she’s been hearing. “Emma, are you fucking pregnant?”

“I knew it!” Mom exclaims, clapping her hands together.

“Language!” Patricia scolds, though she’s beaming with excitement.

The question hangs in the air like a perfectly executed slap shot—direct, unavoidable, and game-changing.

Chase’s head whips toward me, his eyes wide with shock. “Wait, what?”

“Ma sick?” Ethan asks suddenly, his perceptive little eyes focused on me.

The backyard falls silent.

“Emma?” Chase asks quietly. “Are you pregnant?”

I look at my husband—this man who deserves to hear this news in private, in our own time. But everyone’s pregnancy radar has blown that plan to pieces.

“Yes,” I whisper, then clear my throat and repeat, “Yes, I’m pregnant. Five weeks.”

The reaction is immediate and overwhelming. Before anyone else can move, Maya is rushing toward me with tears in her eyes.

“Oh my God, Em!” she cries, wrapping me in the tightest hug. “I can’t believe it! Another baby! ”

Mom starts tearing up. Richard grins like he’s won the lottery. Patricia looks delighted with the revelation.

“Baby!” Ethan declares, though he clearly has no idea what everyone is getting excited about.

Chase stares at me for a long moment, processing the information. Then his face breaks into the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen, and he’s crossing the distance between us in two quick strides with Ethan in his arms.

“Really?” he asks softly, placing our son down before bringing his hands up to frame my face. “We’re having another baby?”

“Really,” I confirm, leaning into his touch. “I was going to tell you tonight, after everyone left. I had this whole plan—”

“Screw the plan. We’re having another baby.”

“Another grandbaby!” Patricia exclaims.

“Baby?” Ethan asks again, looking between his father and me with growing interest.

“Yes, buddy,” Chase confirms, lifting our son into his arms. “You’re going to be a big brother.”

Ethan processes this information before breaking into a huge grin. “Baby!”

The celebration that follows is chaotic and wonderful, full of hugs and congratulations. Maya is practically bouncing with excitement while Mom cries happy tears and Patricia immediately starts making plans.

“This explains the mysterious refusal to skate,” Jackson observes. “Though I have to say, Maya figured it out faster than any of us would have.”

“I’ve been Emma’s best friend for years,” Maya replies proudly. “I know her tells.”

Chase pulls me aside as the family continues their excited chatter. “Five weeks?” he asks quietly. “How long have you known?”

“A week,” I admit. “I wanted to be sure, and I wanted to get past the really early scary part before we told anyone. I’m sorry they figured it out before I could tell you properly. ”

“Hey,” his hands settle on my shoulders firmly. “I don’t care how I found out. I only care that we’re having another baby.”

The simple statement, delivered with such pure joy, makes my throat tight.

“God, I love you,” he murmurs, pulling me against him. “All of you.”

After dinner, once our families have departed and Ethan is finally asleep in his crib, Chase and I settle onto the couch in our living room, the windows offering a view of our backyard rink illuminated by soft landscape lighting.

“So much for my romantic reveal plan,” I mumble with a rueful smile.

“Your best friend has superpowers,” Chase replies, his hand finding mine. “Though I have to admit, finding out surrounded by family wasn’t the worst thing. Seeing everyone’s faces when they realized…”

“Maya looked so smug,” I laugh.

“She kind of did. I was completely clueless. I just thought you were coming down with something.”

“I was trying so hard to act normal,” I admit. “But apparently ‘normal Emma’ doesn’t turn down ice time.”

“That was your first mistake,” he agrees with a grin. “You love skating with Ethan. The second you refused to get on the ice, I should have known something was up.”

“Mental note for next time,” I remark, then catch myself. “If there is a next time. Two kids might be our limit.”

“We’ll see how we handle it first,” he replies diplomatically, then grins. “Though I am secretly hoping for a whole hockey team.”

I smack his arm gently. “Don’t even joke about that, Mitchell. Two is plenty. ”

“So, since the secret’s out anyway, we should probably start thinking about names. Do you have any preferences?”

The question brings an immediate smile to my face. “I’ve always liked Charlotte for a girl.”

“Charlotte Mitchell,” Chase tests the sound. “That’s beautiful. What about for a boy?”

“Maybe something traditional but not too common. James? Daniel?”

“James Mitchell,” he repeats thoughtfully. “I like that. Strong name.”

“James or Charlotte,” I agree. “Though we still have plenty of time to decide.”

“True. Or we could just wait till baby arrives. See what names comes to us.”

“Always the spontaneous one,” I tease, settling more comfortably against his side.

“It’s worked out pretty well for us so far,” he points out, and I can’t argue with that.

“I keep thinking about how perfectly everything has fallen into place,” I admit quietly. “Even the timing of this pregnancy feels right, despite being completely unplanned.”

Chase’s arm tightens around me. “Nothing about our family has been conventional timing, but everything has been exactly right when it happened.”

His certainty settles any lingering worry about the earliness of this pregnancy or the chaos of today’s announcement.

“I love you,” Chase says simply, his free hand coming to rest gently on my still-flat stomach. “All of you.”

“We love you too,” I respond, the exchange as necessary as breathing.

Partners, on and off the ice. Family in its truest form. Home in each other’s arms, with room for one more.