I always knew Allie was my one great love. Who knew our futures would lead us back to where we started, together. Mom always quotes the “love is patient” passage in the Bible and now I finally get it.EpilogueAllieOne Year LaterFollowing his slightly longish kiss to seal the deal that is our marriage, Erik picks me up at the altar. Our friends and family cheer as I wave my bouquet in the air, filled with a happiness I’ve never known.
“We made it,” I say as Erik sets my feet on the ground and takes my hand.
“I love you,” he says, leading me down the rose-petal strewn aisle.
The botanical garden outside of Chicago where our ceremony was held is filled with people who want to wish us well. We kiss, hug and thank a couple hundred people before the rows of chairs have all been cleared.
I found out in the past year or so of wedding planning that marrying a pro athlete goes down one of two ways—either elope or have an outrageously expensive ceremony. We chose the second option because it was important to us to have our family and friends here.
My bridesmaids, Kelly, Hazel and Vi, wore beautiful sleeveless pale yellow dresses that were a bittersweet reminder that the girls are nearly women. With their hair styled and makeup expertly applied, Erik has had to tell more than one adult man that they’re only fifteen.
“So back the fuck up,” he says every time, a stern, protective look on his face.
His groomsmen, Cade, Max and Alexei, are sharing the duty of watchdog with him. I actually heard Max yell, “That’s my fifteen-year-old sister, you fucking perv,” to a guy who catcalled as the girls were getting out of the limo earlier.
They may have spent their lives so far without a father, but they’ve got a protective brother, and in a few months, Erik’s adoption of them will be finalized.
He pulls me aside before it’s time for more photos, kissing me again and saying, “Hey, Mrs. Zimmerman.”
“Hey, Mr. Zimmerman,” I say, arching a brow.
He glances at his watch. “How long until we get to consummate this union?”
I throw my head back and laugh. “A while.”
In addition to the two hundred people invited to our ceremony and reception, another one hundred fifty people were only invited to the reception. It’s being catered by Reese Deveraux, the wife of Erik’s teammate Knox. She’s become one of my best friends in Chicago over the last year of traveling back and forth to visit Erik.
“I don’t think I could love you any more than I do in this moment,” Erik says, giving me a tender look.
“I feel the same way about you. This is a dream come true.”
He kisses me again, and I hear the photographer taking photos with her camera.
“We should go do those posed photos,” I say. “We have a lot, and I don’t want to be the assholes that make people wait for hours before we get to our reception.”
Erik grunts and says, “It’s an open bar, babe, no one will even miss us.”
The photographer takes photos of me and Erik, us and the kids, us and the bridal party, and us and his mom and aunt. Aunt Jo is walking like she never injured her hip in the first place, and she’s happier than ever.
Other than the kids, I don’t have a family member here. Jenna was sentenced to four years in prison for kidnapping Vi. She’ll be eligible for parole before long, but I don’t plan to attend her hearing. We’ve never visited her and we don’t plan to. Our new home has a great security system and Erik plans to hire a security guard for Vi for at least a few months if Jenna is released on parole.
I hate that it’s come to this. But it’s her poor choices that brought us here. Vi clung to me for the first couple months after she returned home, afraid to be out of my sight.
When all the Blaze players line up for a photo, all wearing tuxes, I get a little misty-eyed. Erik is still in contention for his postseason scoring record because the Blaze made it to the postseason this year. He scored three goals. They didn’t win the Stanley Cup, but they had a good run and we watched every game. As the kids stood and cheered Erik on, their faces painted with the Blaze logo, I knew we were already a family, official or not.
I’ve always known the kids needed love and security more than anything. As a single mom, I was never able to give them much more than that. This life we have now, with Max taking off for college at Indiana University in his new Jeep and the girls choosing furniture for their rooms in our new home, isn’t something I ever expected to be able to give them.