Epilogue
MIRA
One year later.
The hostess leads me through the dim restaurant, past tables draped in white cloth and flickering candles. My heart beats fast. Matt texted this morning—just the address and a time. No explanation. No hint.
I spot him in the corner booth, and my pulse kicks up another notch.
He fills the space, broad shoulders in a crisp black button-down I've never seen before, sleeves rolled to show his ink.
His beard's trimmed close, hair neat. He looks...
good. Too good. The kind of good that makes my mouth go dry.
His gaze locks on me the second I approach, and something intense flashes across his face before he stands.
"Hey."
"Hi." I slide into the seat across from him, fingers already finding the ends of my curls. "So, um. What's all this?"
"Thought we could use a night out." He sits back down, and his stare doesn't waver. "Baby's with Elena and dad."
Relief floods through me. "Oh, good. She's been fussy all week, and I was worried?—"
"She'll be fine."
I nod, chewing my lip. The waiter appears with water, and I grab mine immediately, taking a long sip just to have something to do with my hands. Matt orders wine—something red I've never heard of—and the waiter disappears.
"So?" Matt leans forward, forearms on the table. "How'd it go?"
"Clinical rotations?" I let out a breath. "Exhausting. We had this mare come in with colic, and Dr. Reynolds made me do the rectal exam while she supervised. I was shoulder-deep in horse—" I catch myself, laughing a little. "Sorry. Probably not dinner conversation."
"Keep going."
"Really?"
"Yeah." His mouth curves just slightly. "I want to hear it."
So I tell him. About the mare and the emergency C-section on a schnauzer and how I stayed late to monitor a post-op cat because the overnight tech called in sick.
About Dr. Reynolds pulling me aside to say I have good instincts, that I'm a natural.
About how my hands finally stopped shaking when I have to place an IV catheter.
"And there's this little beagle puppy—oh my god, Matt, the cutest thing—who keeps escaping his kennel, and we can't figure out how he's doing it. I swear he's part Houdini." I pause, reaching for my water again. "But yeah. Long day. Good day, though. I actually... I love it. I really do."
Silence.
I glance up. Matt hasn't touched his wine. Hasn't looked at the menu. He's just... staring at me. Eyes dark and focused, jaw tight, that muscle in his cheek twitching.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"It's clearly something." I fidget with my napkin. "Did I talk too much? I know I get carried away when I'm tired?—"
"Mira."
His voice drops low, and my stomach flips.
"You're perfect."
Heat crawls up my neck. "I'm covered in dog hair and I probably smell like disinfectant?—"
"You're perfect," he repeats. His hand reaches across the table, fingers closing around mine. Warm. Rough. Safe. "Watching you talk about your work. Seeing how much you've grown." He pauses, thumb brushing my knuckles. "I'm proud of you."
My throat goes tight. "Matt?—"
"I love you."
"I love you too." The words come out soft, a little shaky. "But seriously, what's going on? You're acting weird."
His mouth twitches into something almost like a smile.
Then he stands.
My heart stops.
Matt drops to one knee beside the table, and every sound in the restaurant fades to white noise. His hand still grips mine, steady and sure, while the other reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small velvet box.
"Mira."
I can't breathe. Can't think. My free hand flies to my mouth.
"I know we've done everything backward." He opens the box, and light catches on the biggest diamond I've ever seen—round and brilliant, set in a simple platinum band that somehow looks both delicate and solid at once.
"Had a kid before we even went on a real date.
Told our parents we were together before I ever asked you to be mine officially. "
"Matt—"
"Let me finish." His thumb strokes across my knuckles, and his eyes never leave mine.
Dark and intense and full of something that makes my chest ache.
"You came here a year ago, and I thought you were just some spoiled city girl who'd bail the second things got hard.
But you didn't. You stayed. You worked. You became the woman I always knew you could be. "
Tears blur my vision. I blink hard, trying to see him clearly.
"You're an amazing mother. An incredible partner.
And watching you chase your dream, seeing you light up when you talk about saving animals—" His voice catches, just barely.
"I want to spend the rest of my life watching you do that.
I want more kids with you. Want to grow old on that farm with you beside me. "
He lifts the ring slightly, and the candlelight makes it sparkle.
"Marry me, Mira. Make it official."
"Yes." The word bursts out before he even finishes. "Yes, oh my god, yes?—"
Matt's on his feet in a heartbeat, pulling me up and into his arms. The ring box nearly tumbles from his hand, but he catches it, laughing—actual laughter, low and rough and full of relief. His mouth finds mine, and I kiss him back hard, not caring that half the restaurant is probably staring.
When we break apart, he slides the ring onto my finger. Perfect fit. Heavy and real and mine.
"I love you," I whisper against his jaw.
"Love you too." His arms tighten around me, and I feel his heart pounding against my chest. "My wife."
"Not yet."
"Close enough."