Pucking Ever After: Volume 2 Summary, Characters and Themes

Pucking Ever After: Volume 2 by Emily Rath is a deeply emotional and intimate continuation of her polyamorous hockey romance universe. Rather than focusing on a linear storyline, this volume offers a rich series of character vignettes, bonus scenes, and emotionally charged moments that expand the interior lives of Rachel, Jake, Caleb, and their extended chosen family.

Set against the backdrop of love, loss, humor, and domestic chaos, the book pushes the bounds of traditional romance. It celebrates queer identity, complex grief, emotional resilience, and the enduring strength of non-traditional relationships.

It’s not just about happily ever after — it’s about what happens next.

Summary 

The story begins with Rachel, Caleb, and Jake navigating the intensifying dynamics of their triad. At Riptide’s Bar & Grill, Caleb’s karaoke performance stirs feelings of jealousy and affection.

This playful display sets the stage for a more vulnerable exchange between Rachel and Caleb. They confront shared childhood trauma and deepen their romantic bond during an emotionally charged moment in a bathroom.

Caleb reveals his struggles with religious guilt and sexual identity. Rachel reassures him of her unwavering love, strengthening the emotional and physical connection in their relationship.

The tone shifts as the group heads to Turks and Caicos. Ryan, Jake, and their teammates embark on a bachelor party fishing trip that unexpectedly becomes stressful when Ryan catches a shark and their boat breaks down.

Sunburned and stranded, the group panics about missing the rehearsal dinner. The chaos is undercut with humor, especially during Ryan’s reunion with Tess.

Tess, anxious and upset, welcomes Ryan back with emotional intensity. The moment is capped by her comic reaction to his fishy scent, adding levity to the ordeal.

The narrative then takes a somber turn. Rachel experiences a miscarriage, and the hospital waiting room becomes a space of grief and vulnerability.

Rachel tries to mask her pain with humor and rationalization. Jake and Caleb, meanwhile, grapple with their own emotional responses — Jake with helplessness, Caleb with silent heartbreak.

Rachel’s inner thoughts reveal guilt and emotional disorientation. Caleb’s crushed expression and Jake’s controlled anger reflect the trio’s collective sorrow.

Jake’s point of view further explores this grief. He feels powerless, frustrated that he cannot fix the situation or soothe his partners.

His concern shifts to Caleb, who he fears may emotionally withdraw. A deeply moving moment in the hospital room unfolds when Jake and Caleb share a kiss, anchored in love and shared pain.

This gesture is not about lust but about grounding one another. Their bond is quietly affirmed through this mutual vulnerability.

Soon after, Rachel goes into labor. From Jake’s perspective, the birth becomes a harrowing experience as complications arise.

As medical staff rush in, Jake is left outside, paralyzed by fear. His anxiety is compounded by the sudden appearance of his estranged brother, revealing lingering family tensions.

Relief finally arrives when the baby is born and Rachel survives. But the emotional scars of the event remain deeply etched into Jake’s psyche.

With the central trio still at the hospital, Ilmari (Mars) steps in to manage the household. His chapter highlights the demanding yet loving chaos of their polyamorous family life.

Mars handles school runs, meals, and a dentist appointment while juggling emotional needs. Beneath his calm, capable surface lies a quiet yearning for romantic intimacy, especially with Caleb.

He also reflects on the pressure to present their family as perfect. The chapter reveals how emotional labor and invisibility affect even the most dependable members of the household.

The final chapter shifts to Caleb’s perspective. Picking up the pieces after Mars, Caleb manages the dentist visit and cares for the children.

But he feels increasingly displaced. He begins to question whether he is still essential in the same way he once was.

Interactions with the kids and Mars hint at his deeper emotional turmoil. When a child asks if he’ll still visit when he’s no longer “needed,” the question lands with quiet devastation.

Caleb’s fear that love is conditional — tied to usefulness — becomes apparent. Still, he remains warm and patient on the outside, even as he questions his place within the family.

By the end of the chapter, Caleb realizes that while his love is unwavering, his own emotional needs must no longer be postponed. The story closes with a quiet resolve to seek the validation and romantic recognition he’s been silently missing.

Together, these chapters form a portrait of a family defined not by convention but by emotional truth. Through heartbreak, absurdity, and daily messiness, Pucking Ever After: Volume 2 presents a rich, imperfect, and honest vision of love in all its forms.

Characters 

Rachel

Rachel is the emotional and narrative cornerstone of the story. Her perspective anchors several of the most raw and transformative chapters in the novel. 

Her character is deeply layered—tough and resilient on the outside, yet frequently navigating internal storms of guilt, grief, and love. Her evolution throughout this volume is marked by emotional vulnerability and a growing willingness to lean on her partners for support.

In the wake of her miscarriage, Rachel’s first instinct is to mask her pain, suggesting a lifetime of being strong for others, possibly shaped by her troubled family background. Yet, she gradually opens up, allowing Jake and Caleb to see the most unguarded parts of her psyche.

Her connection with Caleb intensifies in the early chapter “Dark Devil,” revealing her craving for both dominance and gentleness—traits she finds mirrored in Caleb’s own tormented complexity. Rachel is also the emotional glue of the triad, constantly reaffirming their shared love, even amid her own trauma.

Her strength is not in her ability to endure alone, but in how she learns to allow love in its many forms—grief-stricken, lustful, humorous—to sustain her.

Jake

Jake is defined by his fierce protectiveness and emotional repression. He continuously struggles to reconcile this with the chaos and vulnerability that come with family and fatherhood.

He is the one who wants to fix everything, the quintessential guardian and stabilizer. But this need for control often leaves him emotionally stranded when life presents challenges he cannot muscle through—like Rachel’s miscarriage or her life-threatening labor complications.

Jake’s chapters offer a window into a man undone by helplessness, especially in moments when his loved ones are in pain. Yet, there is a beautiful, quiet evolution in his relationship with Caleb.

He moves from being just a co-parent and partner in a romantic triangle to someone who begins to recognize and return Caleb’s emotional and physical needs. The kiss between them in the hospital is not only a radical affirmation of bisexual intimacy but a profound acknowledgment of shared grief.

Jake’s character becomes more three-dimensional as he lets go of the illusion of stoicism. He embraces the vulnerable, chaotic, and deeply loving man he is becoming.

Caleb

Caleb is arguably the most emotionally intricate character in the narrative. His journey is a slow, painful unwinding of suppressed desire, religious shame, emotional fatigue, and yearning for validation.

Caleb wears his trauma like an invisible cloak. Readers learn of his struggles with religious guilt, internalized shame around queerness, and deep fears of abandonment.

He craves emotional security but is terrified of becoming obsolete in the evolving dynamics of the polycule. The depth of his grief over Rachel’s miscarriage and his triggered trauma in the hospital paint him as someone who loves deeply but doesn’t know how to ask for the love he needs in return.

His bond with Rachel is primal and intense, marked by mutual brokenness and healing. His relationship with Jake shifts in this volume—from awkward camaraderie to a space of genuine emotional intimacy.

Yet, perhaps the most heart-wrenching part of Caleb’s arc is his connection with Ilmari. The longing, the missed timing, the constant emotional deferral—all underscore a man who is used to giving everything but afraid to believe he can be loved completely in return.

Caleb is the embodiment of love that simmers—fierce, aching, and unresolved.

Ilmari (Mars)

Ilmari is the quiet linchpin of the family. He holds the polycule together with humor, competence, and emotional steadiness.

His presence often goes unnoticed in the emotional turbulence that surrounds Rachel, Jake, and Caleb. Yet his impact is deeply felt.

He is a caretaker in the truest sense—managing dentist appointments, school runs, and emotional logistics like a loving, overworked house-spouse. However, beneath his calm, controlled surface lies a quiet sadness and longing.

Ilmari desires more than to be the “reliable one.” He yearns for a romantic and emotional depth with Caleb that remains just out of reach.

His internal conflict revolves around whether being indispensable is the same as being genuinely wanted. The constant societal judgment about his family structure adds another layer of emotional exhaustion.

Yet he never allows it to spill over into resentment. Ilmari’s character is a masterclass in emotional restraint and the complexity of queer domesticity.

He is proof that love can be both mundane and sacred—that caretaking is its own form of deep, unspoken devotion.

Ryan

Though Ryan appears more comedically in the Turks and Caicos chapter, his character reveals subtle emotional underpinnings. These layers enrich his narrative presence in the novel. 

Initially portrayed as the quintessential alpha goofball—afraid of sharks, caught in absurd adventures, and married to the vibrant Tess—Ryan’s emotional depth emerges in his caregiving and devotion.

His panic over Tess’s food poisoning, his desperate desire to make her laugh, and his capacity for vulnerability even in ridiculous circumstances reveal a man who loves with his whole, chaotic heart. Ryan represents a different kind of masculinity.

He embraces ridiculousness without sacrificing emotional honesty. His chapter might be filled with jokes and physical comedy, but it reinforces that devotion doesn’t always look solemn.

It can be joyful, absurd, and fiercely loyal.

Themes 

Grief, Loss, and Emotional Resilience

Pucking Ever After: Volume 2 talks about grief—specifically, how individuals and chosen families cope with deep, personal loss and emotional trauma. The miscarriage suffered by Rachel marks a seismic event in the narrative.

This moment does not serve as mere background tension but instead becomes a crucible that tests each character’s ability to support, endure, and survive. Rachel’s internal battle with guilt and self-blame, juxtaposed with her instinct to remain emotionally strong for others, illustrates how grief does not always present as loud sorrow.

Sometimes it’s quiet, persistent, and internalized. Jake, meanwhile, feels incapacitated in his protector role, a dynamic that underlines the frustration of helplessness in the face of pain one cannot fix.

Caleb, often the emotional barometer of the group, begins to unravel emotionally, exposing the burden of being both supporter and sufferer. These intertwined struggles reflect a broader truth about grief—it’s rarely solitary and often exposes the delicate lattice of dependence within relationships.

Yet, the family’s ability to come together despite individual pain reflects an enduring resilience. Rather than avoid hard conversations, the characters confront their own pain and that of their partners, leading to emotional breakthroughs.

The depiction of grief is not linear or easily resolved. It lingers, changes form, and molds relationships.

However, it also allows space for resilience—rooted not in stoicism but in vulnerability, shared comfort, and an evolving understanding of what it means to heal in the presence of love.

Polyamorous Love and the Fluidity of Family

The story offers a nuanced, emotionally rich portrayal of polyamory and nontraditional family structures. At its core, the story doesn’t just aim to normalize polyamory—it deeply humanizes it.

The relationships between Rachel, Jake, Caleb, and Ilmari are not static or idealized; they are living, breathing dynamics filled with passion, insecurity, caretaking, and occasional misunderstanding. Rather than rely on stereotypical portrayals of polycules as sexually liberal but emotionally superficial, the book carefully illustrates how love can exist in multiples.

These relationships include unique layers of emotional labor, intimacy, and conflict. Caleb’s inner turmoil—wondering if his role has shifted from lover to logistical support—hints at a central question in polyamorous arrangements: is love conditional upon utility?

Ilmari’s chapter, focused on his role as the stabilizer of the household, expands this theme, showing how essential but less glamorous forms of emotional labor often go unseen. Jake and Rachel’s deep bond, though sometimes the narrative’s anchor, does not overshadow the others.

Instead, it complements and complicates the collective dynamic. There is also acknowledgment of social judgment, internal doubts, and the need for ongoing negotiation and affirmation within a polycule.

By showing these characters loving each other not just romantically but also parentally, domestically, and emotionally, the narrative explores how fluid and adaptable familial roles can be. The result is a robust, unapologetic affirmation that love, when rooted in trust and communication, can exist beyond traditional bounds without diminishing its depth or meaning.

Queer Identity and Internalized Shame

Caleb’s emotional arc throughout the volume reveals a haunting and honest exploration of queer identity. It focuses particularly on the internalized shame born from rigid religious and societal conditioning.

His brief anecdote about learning guitar at church camp is more than just a quirky detail. It opens a doorway into his internal conflict.

The tension between his past and present, between the dogma that taught him to suppress his desires and the polyamorous family that celebrates his wholeness, remains unresolved and painful. This theme reemerges most poignantly in the seventh chapter, where Caleb grapples with his longing for Ilmari.

He carries a quiet fear that he may be becoming invisible in a family he helped nurture. His inner questions—whether he is still wanted, whether his love still matters—are not just rooted in romantic insecurity.

They reflect a lifetime of being told his identity was incompatible with love, worthiness, and stability. These insecurities are not manufactured for drama; they are portrayed with a gentle realism.

This will resonate with readers who have wrestled with reconciling identity and acceptance. The theme isn’t framed as a tragic struggle; it is presented as part of a broader emotional landscape.

Love and shame can coexist. Healing is not linear, and being queer is not reduced to a plot device.

Instead, Caleb’s character reminds us that queer individuals often carry invisible scars. Healing requires not only being loved but being seen, affirmed, and chosen continuously—even when one is no longer essential, just deeply loved.

Parenthood, Caretaking, and Emotional Labor

Parenthood and emotional caretaking are fundamental themes in this volume. They are explored through both literal and symbolic acts.

Whether it’s Rachel navigating the emotional fallout of a miscarriage, Jake confronting the terror of almost losing his partner during childbirth, or Ilmari juggling the chaos of a dentist appointment while running the household, the narrative places immense focus on the labor involved in care. Especially the emotional kind.

This theme challenges traditional gender roles and ideas of who gets to be called a parent or partner. Ilmari, for instance, is not biologically related to all the children but steps into the role of caregiver with quiet commitment.

His internal monologue reflects not just exhaustion, but the underappreciated depth of responsibility carried by those who support from the sidelines. Likewise, Caleb’s experience caring for the kids while feeling emotionally adrift shows how being a good caretaker doesn’t shield one from feeling unseen or underloved.

Even Jake, traditionally cast as the protector, experiences helplessness and dependence during Rachel’s delivery. This reveals that caretaking is often mutual and situational rather than fixed by role.

The novel portrays the messiness of parenting not as something reserved for those who gave birth or married into legality. It frames it as a spectrum of love, presence, and labor.

It honors the work of showing up, of staying through the tantrums and dentist appointments, of holding someone’s hair back when they’re sick. In doing so, it affirms that family is made not only in moments of joy but also in the unseen, unglamorous, and often unrewarded acts of care.