Epilogue
Ava made Waybrook her permanent home. But her success defied every bitter expectation her mother dropped onto her shoulders; the silence she instituted since leaving her childhood home behind worked for the greater good.
She had a family who suited her much better.
Issac’s little hands gripped hers tight as they ran. He squealed, filled with the starstruck excitement of an eight-year-old, "Ava!"
“We’re almost there! We can’t miss the final ten minutes!” Ava exclaimed between strides, and she caught the smile of Eliza running next to them. The rush in the air propelled her forward, bringing Eliza and Issac further into the arena. Security watched them sprint past and made no moves to intercept them, not with the badge hanging around Ava’s neck or the tickets she raised above her head.
Oh, and the TEAM USA jacket she wore. People recognized an Olympian when they saw one, and her presence guaranteed no questions for the Becketts. No one wanted to miss Logan's game, but airport delays didn't discriminate.
Eliza and Issac’s flight had been delayed for almost a day back in Michigan.
Ava had thankfully been able to answer the call from Eliza and rushed from the first period of the game to pick up her boyfriend’s mother and his little brother. They flew to Helsinki to witness Logan and the rest of the US hockey team play in the Olympic semi-finals. Ava wouldn’t let them miss such a magical moment for the man who meant everything to them.
The three burst into the arena at the bottom floor, slowing down enough for Ava to hand over the tickets to security. She guided Issac and Eliza to their seats in the first row, able to see Team USA on the ice against Finland.
The scoreboard flashed the score of two for the USA and one for Finland, marking a close match with under three minutes left in the final third. Ava squinted, seeing the puck in possession of Team USA as one of the members knocked the puck to Logan.
Her boyfriend moved like a blur over the ice, zipping past them. The wind arched off his body when he skated by and caught the puck, dodging around the defensive men from Finland.
"Go, Logan!" Ava exclaimed, and she fumbled with the zipper on her jacket. She tugged it down and shrugged off the outerwear, proudly sporting the Beckett jersey she made for the occasion. She commissioned June to design them during a day off from fashion school, and her best friend didn't let her down.
Besides her, Eliza and Issac shed their winter coats and showed off their matching ones. The small group screamed Beckett pride as Logan continued evading Finland's players. He narrowly passed the puck to another teammate and skated to the opposite side of the ice.
Ava followed his movements, and she, having learned plenty about hockey since dating Logan, recognized his plan split seconds after he set the play in motion. The teammate knocked the puck back to Logan, who caught it, taking a chance on a goal.
He smacked the puck . . . and it slid between the goalie’s legs, catching all net.
The crowd erupted into cheers. The game, with seconds left in the match, let the clock run out. The United States would take to the finals, competing for either silver or gold in Helsinki. Logan shouted as his teammates dogpiled him, earning his fair share of congratulations.
But he, as soon as he could, skated to the wall. He placed his hand on the glass between him and Ava, panting hard. "Hi, pretty girl."
“Congratulations, my love.” Ava ached to throw her arms around him, take off his helmet, and kiss him senselessly until he no longer felt the cold of the ice. "You're amazing."
"I love the jerseys . . . what would you say if I told you that I had one made for later in the week while I'm watching you skate?"
"You're such a dork . . . I love you."
“Love you more.” Logan winked. “I suspect that you’ll be running away with gold, so I have to make sure I make us gold for gold. I need to keep up with my talented girlfriend.”
Ava laughed. "Well, the gold medals will look so nice in our apartment. You can bring the guys around to check them out before the season starts. You're officially the coolest, being in the NHL and an Olympic gold medalist."
Logan shook out his hair while he pulled off his helmet. “How about you meet me at the locker room so I can kiss you like I’ve been dying to for an hour?”
Ava had never been so happy to oblige.