Page 138 of Unbreakable

What blew me away about this final game was the rabid excitement from the fans. You’d think they’d have won the Stanley Cup for how loud the crowd cheered. They’d lost their last three games, but winning this final home game was apparently enough for almost all the fans to stay in their seats, cheering their heads off.

The team skated to center ice, putting their sticks up to salute the crowd. Dylan found me and blew me a kiss, then waved to Greyson. The girls were home with a sitter, but we decided Grey was old enough to choose if he wanted to go to the game.

“Ooh! You got a kiss!” Christine said next to me.

“I can’t believe people are this happy,” I said. “We aren’t headed for a Cup run.”

She nodded and smiled. “Yeah. They’re pretty awesome here. You should come to the next foundation gala.”

“Aw, I like to let the guys just do their thing there. People don’t want to meet us,” I laughed.

“You’d be surprised how excited people are to meet us! The fans here are so supportive. Even when we’ve been the worst, they cheer like this.”

“That Midwest kindness?”

Christine shrugged. “Maybe?”

I started this season feeling like a fish out of water, even in my closest relationships. I was ending it feeling like a part of a community. And more than one community at that. Not only was I progressing pretty well at my ice dancing pursuits, but I auditioned for a local musical and got picked. I didn’t go out for a big role, but I was having a blast. Our first show was scheduled for May and Dylan was begging me to sing the songs and perform for him. I hated doing that. Truly no one wants to do a musical performance for one. It’s just awkward. But didn’t hadn’t overlapped with my stage career for long, and he wanted to support me getting back to something I loved.

Dylan and I were thriving in couples therapy, though sometimes we walked out of there feeling like we got beat up. Apparently, our twin flame toxic trait is giving up too much of ourselves trying to make other people happy, also known as codependency. Sometimes our car rides home from therapy were silent, tentatively touching each other to test the waters.

But even on the worst days when we hauled out our foulest drama, it was worth it. Dylan and I had so much love for each other and the family we built. Even when I left in December, I wasn’t really entertaining leaving him. I was asking him to wake up and step up.

And he did.

But that meant I had to as well.

I was on a new medication and feeling a lot better. After one trash therapist, I found one who fit what I needed. Dylan hired a sweet grandma to look after our kids and help out around the house, and she treated our kids like they were her own.

We were headed for a good place, but I knew there would always be another difficult season waiting for us somewhere. That’s just how life works.

There’s always going to be something in your life that determines the melody. You can’t always control that. Sometimes you get to sing the melody, but more often, it’s about finding harmony: blending with the sound, meeting people where they are, and complementing each other.

The thing about marriage is if you’re lucky, it’s the longest of long hauls. Seasons will always change, and new challenges will arise. The important part isn’t what has been, though that shapes you. It’s what’s there now that counts. It’s accepting what you must and adjusting to what you can. It’s asking each other what we need, both for ourselves and for our relationship—and asking often.

We’re told love is about the happily ever after, but that doesn’t just show up in the mail. Happily ever after can’t be added to a bridal registry, or bought as a couch when you move in together. Some days, happily ever after is incredibly easy. On other days, it feels like getting raked over hot coals.

Sometimes you need the hot coals to bring back a little fire.

Every day I wake up with Dylan on the other side of the bed is a day worth a song and dance.

Grey and I waited for Dylan in the wives’ room after the game. Dylan came out with a bunch of flowers wrapped in brown paper and a smile, minus one tooth. He’d lost one to a puck at practice a few days before, and we hadn’t gotten him to the dentist for his fake tooth yet. I was still getting used to my slightly different Dyl.

It didn’t stop him from grinning big. He handed me the flowers and knelt to hug Greyson first.

“Thanks for coming to the game, buddy. Love you so much.”

I bit back tears watching my two boys hugging. When I married him, I knew he’d be a good dad, and it’s such a treat to soak in those moments when it’s so apparent.

Dylan stood and gave me the biggest hug, lifting my feet off the ground and making me drape the flowers over his shoulder.

“Thank you for this season, baby,” he whispered in my ear before kissing my cheek. “Thank you for pushing me to be better.”

I swallowed hard, trying not to cry. “Thank you for working on it with me. For trying. For being patient with me. It means everything, Dyl.”

He pulled back and kissed me, slow, soft, and sweet like he does, until Greyson objected with an “EW! Dad!” garnering some chuckles from the families around us.

Dylan rubbed his nose with mine. “I’m always going to love you, Jeanine. It’s you and me against the world, baby.”

“You and me. Always.”