My head snaps up, and I’m about to go check on her when my twin girls, who just turned five, come into the room wearing Dylan’s jersey also. To say everyone was surprised when we were told we would be having twins would be an understatement. Having them come out looking exactly like my sisters is something else. Their hair is just a touch darker, and where Zara and Zoe have green eyes, my girls have baby blue eyes. “Abigail and Gabriella, where is your mother?” They both shrug and run to the food.

I’m about to charge out when she comes into the room with my parents beside her. “Sweetheart,” I say her name quietly, and she comes to me, and I lean in and kiss her lips. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” She pretends she wasn’t crying.

“Christopher told me you were crying,” I say, and she glares.

“Christopher should mind his own business,” she jokes, and the crowd starts to cheer so you know the team is going on the ice. I kiss her forehead, and we stand, watching Dylan take the ice. “It’s a big night.”

“Or not,” I say, trying not to get my hopes up. “He just needs to do his thing.”

The game starts, and the three Stone men stand side by side. My father is in the middle of Matthew and me. “You ready for this?” I look over at my father, who just smiles and beams with happiness.

“It’s time,” he says, and I just smile. The game is uneventful until the last two minutes of the game when Dylan takes the puck and skates it out of the zone, my stomach fluttering for him.

He passes the puck behind him to the defenseman and makes his way into position right inside the zone. They pass the puck from defenseman to defenseman and then they slip it to Dylan, who is winding up his stick for a one timer, and just like that, it hits the back of the net. His hands go up in the air, holding his stick, while the box erupts with shouts.

The sound of the announcer fills the box. “History is made. It only took fifty years, but Cooper Stone has been knocked off by none other than Dylan Stone. He now has the record as most points scored by a rookie.”

I watch him celebrate on the ice, and Matthew puts his arm around my father, who is clapping with tears running down his face. My arm goes around him also now. When the game ends, they have Dylan skating to the center of the ice, and the reporter is there waiting for him.

“I’ve won two Stanley Cups, yet this moment is so much better.” I look at my dad, the smile on my face hurting my cheeks.