Epilogue #4
Beside him, Senior shifts, then steps forward. “But we’re going to be here for our first grandbaby,” he says, his voice steadier. “And we’re hoping this won’t be the last. You two, you’ve got something real. Don’t let our mistakes taint what you’re building.”
It’s simple, honest, and it cracks something open inside me that I didn’t even know was still guarded. I blink, my chest tightening. Chase’s hand finds mine again and squeezes, grounding me.
Their words, they’re not perfect, but they are real. And that’s enough right now.
Chase’s smile flickers through the tension on his face, brief but sincere. I step away from him and pull my dad into a hug, pressing my face into the leather of his jacket. He’s stiff at first, unsure, but then his arms come around me, tentative but strong.
A heartbeat later, Chase grips his father’s shoulder and pulls him in too. It’s rougher, more of a man-to-man thing with back slapping, but there’s respect there now, an understanding. Maybe even something that could become peace, if we’re lucky.
Something about this moment softens the sharp edges of our past. Not all the way, but just enough to start mending the cracks.
“Thank you,” Chase says beside me, his voice deeper, rough with feeling. “Knowing you’ll be there for our Moonbeam… that matters.”
My heart swells.
He couldn’t have said it better.
“It really does…” I add, my voice barely above a whisper. “We can’t change the past. But maybe… maybe we can build one hell of a future.”
Both of our dads nod in sync, then step back as the music thumps louder around us. One of Savage Riot’s tracks kicks in over the speakers, gritty and bold, and I swear I hear the tiniest bit of embarrassment in my dad’s chuckle.
“Jesus,” he mutters, shaking his head. “Do we really sound like that?”
Senior barks out a laugh and slaps him hard on the back.
“Maybe if you had a halfway decent production team, you wouldn’t sound like you gargled sandpaper before recording.
Come on. Let’s go talk.” And just like that, he’s dragging Dad away into a half joking, half serious discussion that will no doubt turn into them trying to outdo each other.
Again.
I roll my eyes and smirk, already knowing where this is headed. “That’s probably going to end in a deal being drawn up.”
Chase’s arm curls around my waist, his hand spreading across my belly protectively. He leans in, brushing his lips just behind my ear. “Not our problem,” he murmurs, voice thick with heat. “What is my problem… is that I need to take you somewhere right now and kiss the fuck out of my fiancée.”
Goose bumps ripple across my skin, and I turn slightly, whispering, “We can’t leave the party, Hallmark.”
His eyes narrow, lips curving in that sinful smirk that always spells trouble.
He doesn’t ask again. Instead, he grabs my hand, strong fingers wrapping around mine as he yanks me toward him.
His mouth crashes against mine in a searing kiss that melts every rational thought from my brain.
Then he pulls back just enough to speak, voice gravel-rough and commanding. “Like hell we can’t.”
Before I can protest, he’s already moving, dragging me across the lawn with one hand in mine and fire in his stride. His other hand slides down my back, possessive and firm, and I can barely catch my breath.
The crowd blurs, the music fades into the background, and all I can feel is his grip pulling me away like I’m the only thing that matters in the world.
And right now, I believe it.
Because I’ve never seen Chase look more determined.
Or more mine.
We make a run for it across the lawn, Chase tugging me behind him with that wild grin I’ve come to crave, laughter bubbling from both of us as the music from the party fades behind us.
The soft glow of string lights casts a warm haze over everything, as if the night itself knows something beautiful has just happened.
Every step feels lighter than the last, adrenaline surging in my blood, heart full, the weight of what tonight means only just starting to settle in.
By the time we reach the pool house, Chase is practically devouring me with his hands and his mouth, trailing kisses along my jaw as he fumbles with the sliding door.
But the second we push it open, we both freeze.
Rory and Dax are walking out of the bedroom, tousled and flushed, adjusting their clothes with a look of guilt neither of them seems quite ready to explain.
For a breath, none of us speaks.
The music thuds through the walls, muffled but present, the pulse of the party still going strong just beyond this bubble of awkward tension. Rory’s eyes meet mine, her pupils dilated, her lips red and kiss-bruised.
Dax glances at Chase, his jaw tight, his hand firmly gripping Rory’s like it’s a shield.
The realization hits me fast and hard, and my mouth twitches with a smile.
They were in there.
Together.
And judging by the panic dancing across both their faces, they know we know.
“Don’t say a fucking thing,” Dax blurts, pointing at us like we’re the problem. Then he snatches Rory’s hand and power-walks them right past us.
“Didn’t see a damn thing,” Chase mutters, deadpan, before they shuffle out into the night like nothing happened.
Chase watches them go, brow raised. I glance back at him, my amusement bubbling over. “You think that’s their first time?”
His lips twitch, a light chuckle escaping him. “Oh, yeah. No doubt about it.”
A laugh escapes me as Chase guides me further into the room.
The second the door shuts behind us, the buzz from the party dims, and the space wraps around us in quiet intimacy.
He pulls me down with him onto the love seat, and I’m curled against his side, the weight of the evening sinking into my bones in the best way.
“I hope it turns into something,” I murmur as my fingers trail absently along his chest. “They both deserve real happiness.”
Chase’s response is a low hum, deep and thoughtful, his hand skimming up my thigh before settling at my hip.
“They do,” he agrees, his voice quieter now.
“But I don’t want to think about Dax or anyone else right now.
” He shifts, brushing my hair back with one hand as he leans in close, his mouth grazing the shell of my ear. “All I want is you.”
A shiver unfurls across my skin as his lips press to my neck, the heat of his mouth sending sparks down my spine. I turn slightly, just enough to lift my hand and let the light catch the diamond on my finger.
It glows not just from the sparkle, but from what it represents.
Our story.
Our second chance.
Our future.
My eyes water, my chest aching in the best way.
“I love it,” I whisper, eyes locked on the ring. “It’s perfect.”
Chase pulls back, just enough to meet my gaze. The softness in his eyes nearly undoes me, all warmth and reverence and unshakable love.
“No,” he says with quiet certainty, cupping my face. “You’re perfect. This ring’s just a symbol. But you, Lyric… without you, none of this would matter.”
Emotion swells in my throat, thick and heavy and impossible to hold back. “You are my w-world, Chase Covington,” I say, my voice breaking slightly on the words. “Even if you are a total Hallmark-level deceiver.”
He chuckles low in his throat. “Yeah, but I’m your Hallmark-level deceiver, Mrs. Covington.”
“I’m not married to you yet,” I tease gently, brushing my thumb along his stubbled jaw. “But I gotta admit, I really do like the sound of that.”
His eyes darken with something fierce, something primal, something entirely male. “So do I, Starlight,” he murmurs, right before he pulls me into a kiss that’s deep and consuming, his mouth stealing my breath, his hands anchoring me to him like he never plans to let go.
A kiss that says everything we’ve survived, the fights, the trust broken and rebuilt, the truth revealed, the love re-earned, was all worth it.
The room vanishes, the past quiets, and the party fades into a dull hum beyond the walls.