Am I running around in a bikini? Not yet, but maybe one day. Am I the skinniest? Nope. Am I even back to my size fours? Not even kinda. I’m a thicc—with two Cs—fourteen, and I’m proud of that. I work hard at work and even harder in the gym, with Owen right by my side. I’m still trying to convince him to get his thyroid checked, but he refuses, and truthfully, I like him thicc too. I love him. He was there when I graduated, front row and the loudest one at the graduation. When I was officially hired here, he threw me a massive party, and I felt so loved.
That’s probably my favorite thing about him—he just loves, so very much.
“Oh, Nico. I’m so happy for you.”
“Me too,” he says, looking away. “Even Aviva has noticed a difference. I’m more involved, and I don’t disassociate as much.”
“That’s wonderful.” I almost cry as I write down the notes, and since I know this is probably my last chance, I close my tablet and look back at him. He looks at me for a second and then glances away. “Nico, can we talk off the record?”
He looks back at me, but it’s only for a second before he shrugs. “Sure?”
I take in a deep breath, and I feel my confidence coursing through my veins. “I don’t know if you know this, but you being this incredible, fantastic goalie while having autism is mind-blowing. You are what every parent of an autistic child wants for their kid. And I think that if people knew their child could have the potential to do what you do, we’d have more people with your superpower.”
He shakes his head. “It’s hardly a superpower. I obsess over things, and then my anxiety gets in the way. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone.”
“But you fight it. You overcome it. And look at you, Nico. I’m in awe.” He finally meets my gaze. “I really want to extend an opportunity for you to go public and to bring awareness.”
Terror is in his eyes. “I don’t want people to treat me differently.”
“They won’t, but if they do, then they aren’t the people for you,” I promise. “But I don’t think they will. I feel like you’re going to get so much support and we’re gonna help so many people, as well as kids.”
He looks away once more, and I hold my breath. “Can I think about it?”
I look like a bobblehead, I’m nodding so quickly. “Absolutely. Also, I have a proposal for how I want this all to happen with the media, and then for the program I’d like to start.”
I hand him the proposal I’ve worked on for a countless number of hours, and he reads the title. “Ice Hockey and Puzzle Pieces.”
I beam. “I wanted something more than autism. I wanted to celebrate hockey but also how complex all people with autism are.”
He looks back down at the proposal and reads for a second. “This is very impressive.”
“Thank you. I’ve worked very hard on it because I believe in it and you.”
He doesn’t look up at me, but he nods. “I’ll honestly consider it.”
“Awesome. And talk to Aviva, see what she thinks.”
“I will. I’m sure she’ll be supportive.”
“I know she will,” I agree, and he nods, looking back down at the proposal.
Before I cry with excitement, I give him a wide smile and head out of the room. I send my notes to Dr. Tembalt with a message wishing him a nice two weeks since I’ll be gone. The pep in my step is over the top, but I’m so excited.
I want so desperately for my plan to work and to help people. That’s always been my goal. It started with Evan Adler, and I succeeded—for him, even if his hockey career was the sacrifice. I thought that was enough and I was going to be so happy. But really, it took Evan bringing Owen into my life for me to be truly happy.
I head to my desk and gather my things. As I shut down and lock up my computer, I hear London say, “You heading out?”
“I am,” I say with a small nod. Things won’t ever be what they were between us. London did apologize, and she even showed up for my graduation, but I think we weren’t meant to be friends. She was just a stepping-stone in my life to get me to the next level—an incredible career, new friends, and Owen. “I’ll see you in two weeks,” I say to her as I throw the strap of my bag onto my shoulder.
“Have a great trip,” she calls to me, and I wave as I head toward the exit. I text Owen that I’m leaving and I’ll meet him at the house. When he doesn’t answer right away, I figure he’s in the shower or packing. I walk up the stairs to the parking garage, and when I throw open the door, Owen is there. It’s like a flashback of all the times he waited for me by my car when we first started dating.
A slow grin spreads across his lips as he pushes off the car and comes toward me. “Hey there, gorgeous.”
I sigh as I meet him halfway, kissing him eagerly. “Hey.”
“Someone is excited. You ready to go? I’m all packed, and I thought we’d stop for food first.”
I beam. “I am, but it’s not only the trip. It’s my autistic patient. I think he loved my proposal.”
Owen’s eyes light up. “Babe! That’s amazing! I know how hard you’ve been working on that.”
“So hard. And Owen, he might do it! Oh my God, can you imagine what this could do for the autism community?”
“It’s amazing. God, Paxy, I am so proud of you.”
He lifts me off the ground, and I drop my bags as he spins me around playfully. Our laughter is intoxicating—at least, to me, it is. When he stops, I cup his face, rubbing his cheeks with my thumbs as I gaze into the eyes of my future. I couldn’t imagine this celebration without him. I couldn’t imagine going home to see our families other than together. I wouldn’t have walked if he hadn’t been out there at my graduation. Owen adds such light to my world.
“What? You’re looking at me funny. I got a booger in my nose?”
I snort, shaking my head. “I just love you.”
He stops trying to blow the nonexistent booger out of his nose, and the most gorgeous look takes over his face. “I love you, Pax.”
I don’t move, though; I continue to stroke his face.
“Are you okay?”
“I am,” I say. “Really, I am.”
He grins. “You’re creeping me out. Say what you want to say. I see it in your eyes. You’ve got something to say.”
Man, I do. “Would you want to marry me?”
His lips part as he chokes on a laugh. “Are you serious?”
“I know we haven’t really discussed it, but you’re more than a boyfriend to me. You’re everything. My other half. And I…man, I don’t know. I want to marry you.”
His eyes become watery. And as a tear spills out of mine, I know I mean everything I’m saying.
“Pretty sure I’m supposed to ask you.”
I shrug. “Figured since I put you through hell by not liking you for all those years—”
He groans. “Jesus Christ, yes, Angie. Fuck yes, I want to marry you.”
I let my breath out in a whoosh, and then we’re both grinning at each other. “This is crazy,” I say, and he nods.