Push (Colorado Storm Hockey #3)

Chapter 27

27

ADALINE

The sun casts long shadows across the church steps as my family gathers together. I’m standing with Kyla, our arms wrapped around each other. We may have our differences, but the one thing we’ve always had in common is our love for Teta Lena. The hearse pulls up, carrying her casket. It’s still so hard to wrap my mind around this. My dad and my uncles move toward it and stand by to carry her casket into the church.

Beyond all these feelings, my mind is spinning with a thousand tiny details. Did I order enough food for the reception? Will there be enough chairs? Did I remember to represent each family member on the photo memory boards? I should be focused on honoring Teta’s memory. Instead, I’m drowning in logistics.

I fidget with the straps of my black dress, my eyes drawn to the casket as it’s carefully removed from the hearse. It doesn’t seem real.

God, I wish Nik was here.

No, that’s selfish. He has an important team meeting and the last practice before one of the most important games of his hockey career. Teta would understand. She’d probably threaten to haunt him if he missed it for her funeral. The thought almost makes me smile. Almost.

And then, as if delivered by Teta herself, I look up and see Nik walking across the parking lot. He’s here, looking slightly disheveled but devastatingly handsome. Our eyes meet, and for a moment, all my sadness fades away.

He makes his way to me, slipping his hand into mine just as the procession begins to move. “Nik?” I whisper. “What are you doing here? Your team meeting…”

He squeezes my hand gently. “This is more important,” he says simply.

I give him a heartfelt smile. Before I can respond, we’re moving forward as one big family, following Teta’s casket into the church. Having Nik here, holding my hand, as part of my family means more than I could have ever imagined when I said I do in Las Vegas.

The organ is playing Here I Am Lord as we follow the priest through the church. Funny how the last time I heard the organ play was for Kyla’s wedding, a joyous occasion. It’s so somber now. The pews are filled with a sea of familiar faces and some I’ve never seen before. I’ve always known that Teta Lena was not just a matriarch to our family, but she also touched so many other lives. I’m happy to know she was so loved and respected.

We take our places in the front pew and Father Elias steps up to the altar. The funeral mass begins, and Nik’s arm slides around my shoulders. It’s weird how natural it feels. It’s like we’ve been doing this for years instead of months.

As the funeral mass proceeds, I lean into Nik without even thinking about it until it suddenly hits me—this is what Teta always wanted for me. Not just a husband, but someone to lean on when the world gets too heavy.

I sneak a glance at Nik. He’s focused on Father Elias, but his thumb is tracing small circles on my arm. It’s such a small gesture, but it connects us in a way I really need right now. He’s here, really here, not just physically but emotionally. And isn’t that what marriage is supposed to be?

For a moment, I forget we’re in a church full of people. I forget that this whole marriage started as a drunken mistake. Because right now, it doesn’t feel like a mistake at all. It feels like maybe, just maybe, Teta knew what she was talking about all those times she pestered me about finding a partner.

I catch my dad looking at us, his expression a mix of grief and something else—approval, maybe? He gives Nik a small nod, and I feel a surge of something. Pride? Relief? I’m not sure, but it feels good. It feels right.

This is what I’ve been missing in my life. Not just a husband, but this feeling. This sense of belonging, of being part of something more than myself. Nik and I might have stumbled into this marriage backwards and sideways, but sitting here, surrounded by the love of my family and the strength of this man beside me, I can’t help but think we might have accidentally gotten it right.

I’ve got to hand it to Teta Lena. This feeling of having a partner, having someone to hold me and stand by me on the saddest day, is something I never believed I needed until now. She believed I did, though. Maybe for this very day.

Father Elias speaks of Teta’s life, her faith and her love for her family. It’s beautiful, but it barely scratches the surface of who Teta really was. No one outside of our family could know her nearly as well as we do.

As the final prayers are said and the casket is blessed, I feel the weight of finality settling over me. This is it. This is goodbye.

The mass ends and after receiving condolences, my dad turns to Nik. “Hux, it’s nice to finally meet you in person,” he says and extends his hand. “I just wish it were under better circumstances.”

Nik shakes his hand firmly. “Likewise, sir. I’m sorry for your loss. Your mother was an incredible person. I’m glad I got to know her, even for a short time.”

“Yes, she was. We loved her a lot,” my dad says, and it brings another tear to my eye.

Before they can talk more, we’re surrounded by a swarm of relatives. And that’s when the well-intentioned chaos begins.

“Hux!” Uncle Joe booms. His voice is so damn loud. Especially for a church. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have a championship to prepare for?”

Aunt Vicky backs him up. “Lena would be furious if she knew you were missing practice.”

“You should go,” Mark adds, looking genuinely concerned. “We can’t be responsible for the Storm losing the Cup. Teta would never forgive us.”

Nik holds up his hands, trying to calm the onslaught. “I spoke with my coach. He understands why I’m here. This is important.”

“Son,” Uncle Peter starts in. “That’s very noble of you, but if your team loses because you missed practice, we’ll have to disown Ada.”

He’s dead serious.

I nod along, caught up in their well-meaning frenzy. “Honestly, they’re right, Nik. You should get back to practice. We’ll be fine here. Like you have to know, the Khourys could never handle it if we caused a Colorado team to lose. We’re already afraid we jinx everything.”

Nik looks bewildered, glancing between me and my family, who are now practically trying to physically usher him out of the church. “I wanted to be here for you, Ada.”

“And I appreciate that so much,” I say, squeezing his hand. “But go, please. We’ve got this covered.”

He hesitates for a moment, then nods. “If you’re sure…”

“We’re sure!” chorus half a dozen voices, followed by Uncle Joe’s booming, “Get the hell out of here. ”

Nik leans in and whispers, “Can we talk privately for a moment?”

“Sure,” I answer and follow him to a quiet corner of the church.

“Ada, I know this might not be the best time with everything that’s happened. But I’d really like it if you could come to the game tomorrow.”

I blink, surprised by the request.

He continues. “I’ll have two tickets waiting for you at will call. I understand if it’s too soon after your grandmother’s passing, but this could be my last game ever. And having you there would mean a lot to me.”

My heart swells at his words. “Of course, Nik. I’ll be there. I would be honored.”

The relief and joy that spreads across his face makes my breath catch. He leans in and presses a soft kiss on my cheek. “Thank you, A,” he murmurs.

As he turns to leave, he pauses at the church doors, looking back at me one last time.

“Are you sure I should leave?”

“Yes, go,” I tell him and can’t help but laugh. But even as I’m laughing, I feel a pang in my chest. He makes me feel so much better when he’s around.

Mark claps his hands together and asks, “Now that we’ve said goodbye to Hux, what’s on the agenda?”

“Well, there’s the burial and the reception, of course. But...”

“But what?”

“Tomorrow, I have an extra ticket to the game.”

“Don’t play games with me, sis.”

“I’m inviting Mallory again,” I lie.

“You’re kidding me,” Mark blurts out, absolutely offended. “What do I have to do to come along? Name my firstborn after you?”

“I expect that anyway, but yeah, that will do. You’re driving,” I say and link arms with him. “Come on, let’s go make Teta proud.”

As we walk towards the reception hall, surrounded by the warm chatter of my family, I feel a strange mix of grief and hope. Tomorrow will bring what it brings—for Nik, for me, for all of us. But for now, we have this moment, this chance to celebrate Teta’s life. And that, I think, is exactly where we need to be.