Epilogue
SEVEN MONTHS LATER…
Chase
Any idea how long it took to save enough money to buy a goddamn ring on a ski-instructor-slash-janitor’s salary? The answer was way too fucking long. No way in hell was I waiting until I had my shit perfectly together.
Rhett held up a ring that looked like it belonged on a Real Housewife’s Botox finger. “This says I bought this with cocaine money, right?”
I groaned.
We were standing in the world’s saddest jewelry store, wedged between a vape shop and a taxidermy place just off the highway. It smelled like carpet cleaner and old lady perfume. But it had a case of estate jewelry I could almost afford, and a clerk who hadn’t blinked when I told him my budget.
Mom had Luci today, which meant I had approximately three hours to find the ring I was gonna use to ask Elena Ventura to marry me. Again, technically. We’d done the whole living together, raising a tiny human, trying not to collapse under trauma thing. But I hadn’t proposed yet.
The problem was, Elena deserved everything.
And all I could afford... like, eighty bucks and some pocket lint.
My eyes scanned the cases of cubic zirconia monstrosities as an intense wave of defeat moved through me.
Despite the fact that I’d been sober for over a year; had the love of a hot-as-fuck, smart-as-hell, kind-as-shit doctor; and had the world’s sweetest kid, there were still days I felt like a fuckup. I’ll definitely need a meeting tonight.
“Whaddya think of this one?” Between his fingers, a slim gold band, warm and soft-looking, with an opal at the center—fire trapped under a smooth surface. Simple. Stunning. A little strange.
Just like her.
“Holy shit.” My eyes bugged outta my head. “It’s perfect. How much?”
It was most likely out of my price range, but maybe I could sell a kidney or something.
“Free,” Rhett said.
“Huh?”
He tilted his head, gesturing toward the door.
“Are you stealing that ring?” I whisper-shouted. “Dude, I cannot get arrested. Again. I have a daughter!”
Rhett chuckled but continued toward the door. I stood frozen in front of the jewelry case, but the door swung closed and the shop owner didn’t run after him. I snapped out of my daze and gave chase myself.
“What the fuck?” I snapped once I made my way outside and saw Rhett leaned against the brick wall of the shopping plaza, inspecting the ring. It was December, but a mild one so far, with average temps just this side of chilly instead of frigid-fucking-cold like we were used to. “Explain, jackass.”
Rhett’s lips tipped up. “This was Sassy’s ring from Brody. Doesn’t want it anymore. Said you could have it.”
Sassy, his bestie, had been engaged to Brody, his other bestie. Now, they were not. There was obviously much fucking more to that story, but I wasn’t going to pry.
“Is it cursed?”
Rhett laughed again. “Don’t think so. Pretty, though.”
“Sure as shit is.” I paused, scrubbed a hand over my stubble. “Really free?”
“Yep.”
“Well, hell. I’ll take it.”
He tossed it to me, and I snagged it out of the air.
I turned the ring over in my hand.
It wasn’t big. It wasn’t flashy.
But it was real.
And it was hers.
Elena
“Hi, sweet baby girl.”
Luci—with her dark hair and bright, Everton-blue eyes—reached for me from where Emma had her resting on a hip, babbling something incoherent.
“Oh, look, Luci! Mama’s back!” Emma wrapped her free arm around my shoulders. “How was your shift, sweetheart?”
I gripped my daughter under the arms and hoisted her into mine, pressing my nose to that perfect, downy head and breathing her in like I’d been stuck underwater all day.
That baby smell wouldn’t last forever. And when it was gone?
I might just take Chase up on his threat to keep me knocked up. Baby smell was a necessity.
“It was quiet, for once—which I needed. This little stinker”—I smooched her cheek—“is cutting another tooth and keeping Mommy and Daddy up all night, aren’t ya, baby girl?”
“Ah, so that explains the drool.”
“So much drool,” I deadpanned.
Emma laughed and motioned toward the table. “Have a seat. I was just making her a snack.”
At home, a snack looked like one of those sad football-shaped teething crackers. In Emma’s kitchen? Luci was dining on whole grain bread cut into flower shapes with cookie cutters, toasted and topped with smashed avocado, a dusting of flaxseed, and a smug sense of nutritional superiority.
It was adorable. And overwhelming. And exactly what my mother would’ve done.
My throat tightened. Tears welled.
Emma sent me a soft smile then took Luci’s chubby hand and wiggled it between her fingers. “I bet Grammy Lucía loved avocado toast, didn’t she, sweet pea?”
That did it. The tears broke loose, hot and fast.
This woman was a godsend. The fact that she was keeping my mom’s memory alive—with my daughter who would never meet her maternal grandmother—meant everything. No one could replace my mother, but Emma Everton was a close second.
I sniffled just as the front door burst open. All three of us turned as Chase barreled into the kitchen, Rhett hot on his heels.
Chase didn’t stop until he reached me. He dropped to one knee, panting, eyes wild.
Then he pulled a ring out of his Carhartt pocket.
“Elena Ventura—” he gasped, chest heaving.
Rhett leaned against the kitchen wall, arms crossed and a smug grin on his face. Emma’s hands were clasped over her mouth, tears already streaming down her face.
“Will you marry me?”
I looked into Chase’s bright-blue eyes—so full of love, sincerity, and that unshakable joy he wore just for me—then down at our daughter. “What do you think, Lulu? Should I marry Daddy?”
Her perfectly timed babble was all the answer I needed.
As Luci bounced in my arms with a chorus of, “ya-ya-ya-ya,” Chase grinned and slipped the opal ring onto my finger.
I’d spent years wearing a gaudy diamond that only ever reminded me of what was expected of me—how I was meant to look, act, serve, shrink. That ring had weighed me down with the full force of control disguised as devotion.
But this one?
This one was different.
It was light. Bright.
Hopeful and happy.
It was the first breath of fresh air after being buried alive.
It was choosing love.
Choosing trust.
Choosing him.