Epilogue Nash
ONE YEAR LATER
Being back at the ski resort in December sparks so many happy memories. This time it’s just Caleb and me, though. My partner, my person, the best thing I’ve ever found waiting in a ski line.
Tess and her boyfriend of the last seven months or so have all three kids for the weekend, and we couldn’t have asked for a better co-parenting setup.
She’s been more than accommodating, making space for Sam like he’s always belonged, and easing some of that unspoken worry Caleb carried about blending our families.
Not everyone has shown that same acceptance, though. When Caleb came out to his parents this spring, their reaction went about how he expected. They didn’t take it well, but instead of letting it crush him, it finally gave him clarity.
He realized how much hiding had given them control.
For years, he shaped his life to avoid conflict, always trying to make everyone else happy while carrying the weight of their expectations.
Finally saying the words out loud stripped that power away.
Losing them hurt, but hiding had cost him far more.
That’s when he understood that freedom isn’t about who accepts you. It’s about learning to accept yourself.
He also proudly labeled himself gay.
To say I’m proud of him is an understatement.
Over the summer, Sam and Caleb moved into our house.
It may seem quick to most people, but for us, it’s never felt that way.
It just felt right. Ever since we went all in December of last year, we’d known this was it.
Sam’s settled into school with Emma and Benji, and the three of them are thick as thieves.
Now, Caleb is standing a few feet ahead of me on his skis, adjusting his gloves, the tip of his nose already pink from the cold. His goggles are pushed up on his helmet as he gets ready to get in the lift line.
“You ready?” I ask, nudging him gently as I slide up next to him.
“I’ve had two coffees and two Tylenol. That’s as ready as I can be.” He laughs.
God, I love him.
We ride the lift up and spend the morning taking slow runs since we don’t have the kids to chase down the mountain.
By midday, we’re both worn out and cold.
Caleb glides to a stop beside me at the base, cheeks flushed under his helmet, breath puffing in little white clouds.
He flips up his goggles. “One more run then lunch?”
I nod, hoping he can’t hear how hard my heart is pounding. “You read my mind,” I say, aiming for casual, even though I’ve been nervously waiting for this all day.
He falls into place beside me in the lift line and smiles up at me. The chair lift brings us back up the mountain, and my nerves are on fire as my fingers toy with the edge of the ring box hidden in my coat.
We’ve discussed remarrying a few times, and Caleb has been vocal about wanting to get married again “one day.” And I want to show him how good marriage can be with the right person.
“Follow me,” I say to Caleb once we get off, skiing toward a perfect slice of solitude that sits off the main run.
It’s a little pull-off with a bench and a stunning overlook with unobstructed views.
It’s the perfect place to ask him to spend forever with me.
When we ski over, I unclip my skis and take off my helmet and goggles.
Caleb does the same, looking at me, confused.
His brows lift, curious. “What are you—”
I take that chance to step in front of him, reaching into the inside pocket of my coat to pull out the box and dropping down to one knee.
“The mountains have always been a special place for us,” I start. “This is the place I met you, and the place my whole life rerouted because of one conversation in the lift line.”
His eyes soften at my speech.
“You let Benji and me jump on the lift with you, crash your lunch at the lodge, and let me hold you the very first night in a room you definitely weren’t planning to share.
That one day changed my entire life for the better, and I knew I’d never get enough of you.
You gave me something I didn’t know I’d been missing, Cay, and I never want to let you go. ”
His eyes are wide, and he’s grinning so big watching me. I open the box and show him the simple silver band inside.
“Will you marry me, Caleb?”
He exhales a shaky laugh that melts straight into a smile.
“Yes,” he exclaims, voice thick with emotion. “Yes, I want to marry you!”
Before I can even slide the ring on, he grabs my jacket and pulls me up and into him. Our mouths crash together, and he kisses me with everything he’s got.
When we finally pull apart, both of us breathless, I take his hand in mine. His gloves are already off, and I slide the ring onto his bare finger.
“I love you,” he says, still a little breathless.
I press my forehead to his. “I love you too. So damn much.”
We ski back down the mountain and head to our hotel room—the same resort we first got snowed in at, except this time we have a king-bed suite to celebrate in all by ourselves.
Because this isn’t just where we started.
It’s where we both found our forever.
THE END.