Epilogue
Harlow
O ur flight was bumpy with constant turbulence, and Harrison was squeezing my hand like a vise the whole time. Apparently, he’s not a fan of flying. He doesn’t like to travel without any control. It’s cute because I see that when he lets me drive.
We stopped at my house to shower, change clothes, and get ready for dinner. I told my mom to plan for dinner for our family plus one. They already know that my plus one isn’t Heath, and that was a whole mini West War Two.
On the way to the King property to get Lilly, I had called Heath and told him I couldn’t consider him. To consider him, I would have to be a free agent, and I wasn’t one anymore. I had already given myself to someone. He was nice, only cursing himself for not meeting me sooner.
He told me I should still consider working with him, and I said I would consider consulting for his media portions in House Corp. I may have also begged him to work with Helen and continue the merger if he could find financial benefit in it. If not, then maybe he could fake amazement at Helen’s professional achievements. He assured me that there would be no faking.
This achieves two things. One, the merger itself, which my dad wanted, and two, Helen’s security for Lydia. I couldn’t abandon everything. I know Heath is a kind person, and he seems to desire a romantic relationship. I think I might even know someone for him.
When we pull up to my family home, I can see some of the color drain from Harrison’s face. He’s dressed in nice black jeans, his dress boots—because those are a thing—a nice black button-down, a bolo tie with a beautiful emerald-green stone center, and his black Stetson.
I’m wearing a deep emerald T-shirt wrap dress. The fabric is soft, and if you look closely, you can see a vine pattern only a shade darker on it. I wear black heels with confidence knowing Harrison is still taller than me. My hair is in a fishtail braid with a few thin, curled strands framing my face.
We hold hands as we wait for Maria to open the door. When she does, she smiles broadly and grabs him by the ears before kissing him on the cheek.
“Welcome!” she booms, throwing her hands into the air. Looking him up and down, she nods twice. “Yes,” she says to herself before opening the door to let us in.
We enter the sitting room, hand in hand, to find all of my family sitting with drinks in hand.
“Miss Harlow and Mr. Hill,” Maria announces before asking what drinks we would like and dismissing herself.
“Hey, everyone.” I smile the most genuine smile I’ve ever given them.
“Hello.” Harrison bows, he actually fucking bows, and Helen breaks out into loud, obnoxious laughter.
I look over at my parents whose eyebrows are moving from their hairline back to above their eyes.
“Welcome to our home,” my mother states elegantly.
I bring Harrison over to a love seat, and Maria promptly brings us our drinks.
“Thank you for having me, it’s beautiful.” Harrison is nervous, and I adore him that way.
“Thank you. It’s a great deal different from Harlow’s place.” My mother doesn’t mean it as a dig, it’s the truth.
“Oh, yeah. Way different. Both are beautiful but I can tell already that our home will look a lot like her place now. I told her to keep everything. I enjoy her taste.” He squeezes my hand, and I melt a little inside.
“You do?” my father asks.
“Very much, sir. Harlow brings a light to the space that it doesn’t need to provide itself.” I am fucking melting at this man’s words. I see all of my sister’s faces soften, and Hayleigh looks over to her husband who is on his phone.
“She is lovely,” my father states, and I see an adoration in his eyes that has been lost for decades.
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, I believe dinner is ready. Let’s talk more over our meal,” my father announces, standing and offering my mother his arm. As each partner does the same, it’s not with dread I wait for our turn to join them . . . it’s with excitement.
One Year Later
“It is with great pride that I am able to reopen these doors. They have been shut too long. I hope what I can offer you all is more than just a store, but a cozy place to escape. When I first came to Pebble Creek, it was to do just that. Escape the reality that was my real life. Pebble Creek has offered me so much. Before an escape, and now a beautiful reality. A community that has become family. And love that I have experienced like no other. When I was younger, I would read to try and achieve all those things, and that’s where my passion for literature started. I hope that my place in this community gives everyone the chance to learn something new . . . laugh at something funny . . . and explore new worlds.” I wet my lips and smile broadly.
“Welcome to PC Books!” I cut the black satin ribbon attached to the door frame, and everyone in the area cheers. I chose to open during Saturday market so everyone could be here. There’s a decent crowd, so I’m glad I did it this way.
We had a soft opening last week with Harrison’s family, but this is the real deal. Cassidy and Mrs. Hill are proud and excited as I take on this new chapter.
I’m so thankful for their help while I put this place together. I didn’t even realize that running a store like this would be a dream of mine, but sometimes life pushes us in a direction that we didn’t realize we wanted to go in.
When I open the door, a small group of people walk in.
The space is just as I described: cozy. It has faux concrete walls and dark wood shelves along the south and west walls. A group of bookshelves in the southwest side creates a small aisle but is angled to open to the main space. There are two couches and one table with four chairs. Mid-century modern in style and warm tones. The ground is poured and sealed concrete with an array of mismatched rugs tossed about. The east wall has a small, isolated shelf and table that is dedicated to indie authors who have been kind enough to share their works with me .
My checkout counter is tall and right by the front of the store—simple wood with a white and gray marble top. A small stack of my own book of poems sits there.
Black Sheep by Harlow West.
I beam with pride as I smile at the patrons browsing in my store.
“Excuse me, ma’am, has anyone told you that you’re the most beautiful woman they’ve ever seen?” a man says while I adjust some indie books. I roll my eyes before I even turn around.
When I turn, I see Harrison holding Blake’s hand, a boyish grin on his face.
“Not today,” I say sadly.
Harrison’s jaw drops because he tells me every morning when I wake up.
“Well, your boyfriend should be thrown in jail because that’s a crime.”
“Uncle Harrison . . .” Blake starts, knowing that my boyfriend is her uncle.
“He’s joking, B.” I kiss Harrison’s cheek, and he returns it.
“Everything is perfect. I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you. I truly don’t think this day could get any better. It’s fu—” I stop myself and look at Blake who is watching me closely.
“I think it could.” Harrison smiles a little mischievously, and I assume it’s for the naughty stuff that will happen tonight.
Blake pulls at Harrison’s hand and leads him over to the small, colorful hand-carved children’s shelf. She has already seen every book in this place, but that won’t stop her from pulling each and every one of them out and looking at them again .
He lets her hand go and gives her a reassuring nod.
As if on cue, the Hill family walks through the door, and I wave. Cassidy takes off for Blake, Hunter on her trail. Mr. and Mrs. Hill wave and walk calmly into the space, going to mingle with other people from their hometown.
“What about the stand?” I ask Harrison.
“Jake and his friend Lena are taking care of it for a moment. I guess she’s home for Thanksgiving.”
I nod and smile, looking over everything. It really couldn’t be a more perfect day.
Except it gets better because the next time the door opens, my parents, my sisters, Meg, and Maria walk through the door.
My jaw drops almost to the floor with surprise. This is the first time my family has come to visit, and it’s to show their support. I got congratulations texts in our family group chat this morning and felt like that was a move in the right direction. This . . . them being here . . . complete victory.
I walk over to them, greeting each person with a hug; even my dad wraps me in his arms.
When I turn to thank Harrison for obviously making this happen, he isn’t standing by the counter anymore.
Nope.
He’s right behind me and down on one knee, a deep green velvet box in his hand.
“Harlow—”
“Yes!” I go to move closer to him.
He pulls the box to his chest and frowns. “Let me ask, witch.” I smile and nod, lacing my fingers together in front of me.
“Harlow, you told me once that I was your right person, at just the right time. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that feeling. I knew for me, it was the same. I didn’t have to work to make us work. We just did. We still do. The minute I came around the corner and bumped into you, I fell under your spell, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I used to try and chase this idea of a perfect woman—” I frown for the first time in his speech, now knowing his type. He only chuckles and presses on. “But they weren’t right at all. And that’s why it didn’t work. I was all wrong. I was chasing this idea, but it wasn’t you. My heart knew before the rest of me ever would that you were going to be my perfect person. I won’t let that slip through my fingers. I want to be there for every step in your life, and I want you in mine.”
Shit, here come tears. I was doing so good.
“Harlow West. Will you marry me?” He opens the box and inside it is the ring I didn’t even realize I wanted.
It’s a large moss agate stone cut in a pear shape on a gold band. The dark green vines are so detailed and vibrant through the stone. Nestled next to it on each side are three black diamonds shaped in a small fan.
More tears fall as I nod and croak out what I think sounds like a yeah. Not even a yes.
He slides the ring on my manicured finger before standing and lifting me for a kiss. I would kiss him deeper if our families and my new customers weren’t here. Our lips press together tightly, but not for show . . . it’s because right now, we can’t stop smiling.
When I open my eyes, I see bright blue eyes . . . filled with tears.
Because my man—my sweet, loyal, perfect man—is crying because I agreed to marry him.
Now this day can’t get any better.
It’s not one of Meg’s or Harrison’s books.
It’s my life.
And it’s perfect.