Epilogue
Trevor
Ten months later
I t was Christmas Day, and Cozy Creek sparkled like a holiday card, the kind my nan used to send. The lights were so bright and plentiful we could see them from our living room window, from the cabin we both called home.
I couldn’t believe my luck. My soulmate was finally mine, and somehow, I’d convinced her to live in a cabin in the mountains with me. Although, I would have sold the house in a heartbeat, had she asked me. I’d left the decision to her, knowing how difficult it was to return to a town that had once rejected her.
But Teresa was a resilient woman. She’d fought her way back, showing the Neville family she wasn’t afraid of them. Together with Peony, she’d posted about Julian on the town discussion forum, asking for any other victims to contact them.
Legally, they had no recourse, but the publicity worked. Two other women came forward with their stories, and the town rumor mill took care of the rest.
Fortunately, one of the cases, Julian’s former secretary, was fresh enough for the lawyers to deal with. Julian Neville had gone into hiding, waiting for his first trial. Whatever he’d planned to do to mess with Teresa must have been thwarted by the turning tide. He was quickly losing his influence and couldn’t get others to carry out any dirty work for him.
Looking at the tall Christmas tree set up by the window and the decorations hanging all around us, I felt an incredible sense of calm. I was home. We were home. All the unhinged dreams I’d nurtured for so long had come true and now there was room for new ones. Dreams of a family we could raise here. The business we could build in this town.
“Bess said they’ll be here in half an hour,” Teresa said, handing me a glass of beer. “They’re just packing their things. It’ll be an hour with the baby and everything.”
“That’s okay. Let’s heat up the food when they arrive.”
Charlie and Bess lived in town, ten minutes away, within walking distance from our office. We’d signed the lease after the repairs were done and moved within a month. Teresa had taken a little longer to move in with me. We’d dated, driving back and forth before she sold her condo in Denver. To ease her transition, I’d installed a dancing pole in the spare room. Neither of us wanted to be apart, though, and our private chat pinged constantly when we were.
I’d never closed the chat, like Charlie had suggested. I couldn’t imagine losing those early conversations. Our history. It was the story of us, every meme and comment part of the journey that finally brought us under the same roof, for real.
The doorbell rang. It was Kyle with a girlfriend he’d recently met in Cozy Creek. Right behind him, Peony beamed with two of her children, holding an intricately decorated Christmas cake. Two minutes later, Selma arrived with a bouquet of flowers. She’d been quite involved with our office move, supplying us with candles and fruit bowls, gathering information for the town grapevine.
We’d invited everyone to our Christmas Eve party, and our spacious living room was starting to look full. Teresa had ordered a new table for the dining area to make sure there was enough seating. She’d painted our bedroom walls in Tyrian, and changed little things around the house, making it truly hers. Nothing made me happier than seeing her settle in. I’d tried to create a space she’d like, but this was so much better. This was her taking over and feeling at home.
I positioned myself behind the counter, serving mulled wine, coffees, and soda. The second living space was set up with the TV and cushions for the kids to hang out in. When Bess, Charlie, Celia, and baby Scott arrived, the noise level skyrocketed, drowning out the Christmas playlist.
Celia had made friends with Peony’s kids and viewed our holiday gathering as her personal playdate. I didn’t mind, but I did offer to set up their movie entertainment immediately, before they discovered other, more destructive activities.
Our business had survived the move and was slowly recovering as we found more local clients. Teresa had surprised everyone by joining the local business association and getting heavily involved in town matters. She was ignoring the haters and taking up space, gradually winning over the Nevilles’ inner circle until they remained her only enemies. Next year, our business would be sponsoring the annual cardboard sled competition, along with a few of our clients. Charlie and Bess had bowed out, too overwhelmed by early parenthood, but Teresa and I would build a sled together with Celia. Babysitting was easier when you had a project.
Our guests gathered around Bess and the baby, who was just starting to make some coherent sounds. Not quite words, but it was fun to interpret them, anyway. Celia jumped in, placing her Santa hat on little Scott—whose name, I was assured, had nothing to do with my origins—and gave him a kiss.
“He looks like an elf now,” she announced.
“Just like me!” Teresa appeared from our bedroom in her elf costume. “I had to get changed.”
“Wow! That brings back memories,” I mused, taking her hand, and spinning her around so that she jingled.
“When are you having a baby?” Celia asked her. “My mom says if you have a baby, she could be friends with Scott when he grows up.”
Bess flushed beetroot red. “I… I?—”
“She’s very sleep deprived,” Charlie replied for her. “Delirious, really.” He yawned for good measure, and Bess ended up yawning with him.
Teresa laughed, looking a little flustered.
“Have ye heard the tale o’ this elf costume?” I asked, laying on the brogue thick enough to make Celia giggle.
I could tell that story in my sleep, so I performed it again for a rapt audience.
As we settled around the table for the early dinner, it was getting dark outside. The sky was turning that intense blue I’d always missed in the city. Here, it was a like a painting, brought out every night in our private gallery.
We ate, drank, and laughed until it was so dark only stars were visible outside, faint beyond the fairy lights Teresa had hung in the window.
After everyone had left and we’d loaded the dishes away, she joined me on the couch, releasing a deep sigh. “Today was perfect.”
“Aye, it really was.”
She snuggled under my arms, her voice thick and wobbly with emotion. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”
I kissed her curls, not sure of what to say. I’d learned to wait and wait. If I stayed still, she came to me. She opened up. There’d always been something between us, and it wasn’t one-sided. She’d been drawn to me in her own way, seeking me out even when she couldn’t bear looking at me or didn’t know how she felt. I had to trust that this connection would carry us forward. So, I relaxed, and waited. I was good at it now. I never mentioned marriage or kids, or even putting the house in her name. She’d let me know when she was ready.
When she finally turned to me, her eyes glossy with tears, I knew she’d arrived somewhere.
“I might want a baby.” She bit her lip, watching me.
I smiled. “Ask me, and I’ll give you anything.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.” My chest welled with emotion. It was time. My instinct, if I chose to take its advice, was nudging me to take the leap. “But there’s something I need you to do for me.”
“What?” She stared at me, perfectly still. The air crackled, like microscopic fairies were snapping their fingers.
“Marry me,” I said. “Visit my family in Scotland. In either order.”
Tears burst from her eyes. “I thought you’d never ask!”
Every muscle in my body relaxed. Muscles I didn’t know I had, loosened, and I sank into the couch that was hers, in the house that was hers. My heart, which was also hers, swelled with happiness.
“Do you have a ring?” she asked. “You can tell me if you’ve had it for a while. I won’t freak out.”
“Since July,” I said. “But I’m good at waiting.”
“Can I see it?”
“It’s with the jeweler, along with four backup options. Did ye think I was going to make a call about something visual without consulting you?” I lifted a brow. “Ye know I can’t even pick curtains.”
“Oh, thank God!” She breathed a sigh of relief and threw herself into my arms. “Although I admit I started a Pinterest board with my favorite ring designs. I thought you might see it.” She laughed softly into my shirt and her elf shirt jingled.
“Ach, I should’ve checked yer account!” Now that she was with me, I wasn’t online that much anymore.
“That’s okay. I’ll start another one for the wedding and invite you as a collaborator.”
“Ye mean a silent observer?” I corrected.
“That works.”
I placed a kiss on her lips, tasting a hint of salty tears. She was finally mine and I couldn’t wait to share everything I had with her.
“We should celebrate,” I said. “A toast or something.”
I stood up, lifting her with me, trying to remember where I’d months ago stashed the champagne bottle. But as we reached the middle of the floor, she stopped me. “Can you write this down?” she asked. “Like you did after our first night? So, we don’t forget.”
“Sure.”
“You can change stuff if you like.”
“Like what?”
“Maybe… you save me from a real serial killer? And you decorate this house exactly to my taste because our tastes align perfectly. So, when I see it, I think we’re meant to be?”
“Sounds a bit far-fetched, aye?”
She laughed. “Fine. You’re the writer. Make yourself look like a fool.” Her eyes sparkled like she was smuggling diamonds in there. “Don’t forget to include a whole paragraph about your knitting. It’s gold!”
“I’ll write that story exactly as it happened, because it was perfect—it brought us together.”
I spun her around the room, the jingle bells on her elf costume ringing like a Christmas carol gone rogue. Dizzy and laughing, I knew I didn’t care if I looked like a lovesick fool. She didn’t care either—we were too busy being madly in love.