Epilogue Cassidy
One Year Later
The irony isn't lost on me that exactly one year after my world turned upside down, I'm getting another upset to my life that could change everything. But this time, I'm not running from anything. This time, I'm exactly where I want to be.
I'm sitting on the front porch of the cabin, our cabin now, watching him work on the new deck addition. His shirt is off despite the October chill, and there's sawdust in his hair and a pencil behind his ear.
When my phone rings, I almost don't answer, but the name flashing across the screen stops me cold.
Enid Henderson.
Editor-in-chief. My former boss. The woman I used to chase approval from like it was important to my self-worth.
I answer on instinct, phone pressed to my ear.
"Cass," she says, bright and brisk and exactly the same as she was a year ago. "You disappeared."
"I found something better," I say, surprising myself with how easily the words come.
A year ago, I would have stammered, apologized, made excuses.
Now I just state it like the fact it is.
Surprisingly, I found I loved freelance writing for different magazines and only for articles that I wanted to do.
I now longer bend to what has to be done, only what feels good to me.
I glance out toward the tree line, where the tress are turning gold and the mountains look softer in the morning light. Like everything's a little clearer and a little more real.
"Well," Enid says, and I can hear the slight edge in her voice that means she's not used to being dismissed, "consider this a second chance.
I've got an offer. It's last minute, but it's exactly the kind of opportunity you used to dream about.
A columnist just pulled out of a major European assignment.
It's freelance but high-visibility, and the pay is triple what you were making here.
You'd be based in Paris for six months, covering the current news beat. "
I blink, momentarily speechless. "Paris?"
A year ago, this would have been everything I wanted. The validation, the prestige and the chance to prove myself on an international stage. The kind of opportunity that would have had me packing my bags before she finished the sentence.
"Think of it as a reset," she continues, warming to her pitch. "Get your name back out there. Rebuild your momentum.”
Six months.
Six months away from this porch, this bed, this life I didn't plan but suddenly can't imagine living without.
My hand tightens around the phone. "When?"
"Plane leaves Wednesday."
I glance at the calendar hanging by the door. That's five days from now.
"I'll send the contract," she adds, her tone suggesting this is a foregone conclusion. "But don't take too long to decide. Opportunities like this don't come around twice."
I hang up without committing, my hands shaking slightly as I set the phone on the small table beside my chair.
The silence that follows feels deafening.
Evan looks up from his work, some sixth sense telling him something's shifted. His eyes find mine across the yard, and I see the exact moment he registers my expression.
"Everything okay?" he calls, setting down his hammer.
I shake my head, not trusting my voice, and he's across the yard in seconds, settling beside me on the swing we built together last spring.
"What happened?"
"I got a call," I say, forcing the words out. "Old job. Big opportunity. Paris."
He goes very still beside me, and I can feel the tension radiating from his body.
"Paris," he repeats carefully.
"Six months. High-profile assignment. The kind of thing I used to think I wanted more than anything."
We sit in silence for a moment, and I can practically hear him thinking, processing, trying to figure out what this means for us.
"You thinking about going?" he asks finally.
The question hangs between us, loaded with a year's worth of shared mornings and whispered conversations and the life we've built together in this place that used to be his sanctuary and is now our home.
"A year ago, I wouldn't have hesitated," I say honestly. "I would have been on that plane before she finished explaining the assignment."
"And now?"
I turn to face him fully, taking in the face I've memorized in a dozen different kinds of light..
"Now I know the difference between what I thought I wanted and what actually makes me happy."
Relief flickers across his features, but he doesn't let it settle.
"I told you I love you," he tells me. "But I'm not going to stand in your way if this is what you want. If this is the life you're supposed to have. I’ll wait for you Cass, if you want to chase your dreams."
"That's just it," I whisper, reaching for his hand. "Everything I thought I needed feels... different now. I thought success meant proving myself to people who never really saw me. I thought happiness meant collecting accomplishments like trophies."
His thumb traces circles on my palm, patient and steady as always.
"But what if happiness is this?" I gesture around us, the cabin, the mountains, the life we've created together.
"What if success is waking up every morning next to someone who loves all the parts of me I used to try to hide?
What if it's writing stories that matter instead of chasing bylines that impress people I don't even like? "
"Is it enough for you though Cass?" he says.
I blink against the sting in my eyes. "It is. You are. But is me just being with you enough for you too? If I turn down this opportunity I won’t get another one like it. Am I enough without the awards and opportunities for you?"
He cups my cheek, thumb brushing away a tear I didn't realize had fallen. "Cass, the only opportunity I care about is the one where I get to love you for the next fifty years."
Suddenly, I know.
It was never really about Paris, or Enid, or proving anything to anyone.
It was about being brave enough to choose the life I actually want instead of the one I thought I was supposed to want.
It was about choosing love over fear.
It was about choosing him.
"I'm staying," I say, and the words feel like coming home.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. This is my life now. You're my life now. And I wouldn't trade it for all the assignments in the world."
He kisses me then, soft and sure and full of promise. When we break apart, he rests his forehead against mine.
"So, keep writing the articles then?"
I grin, suddenly excited about possibilities I hadn't even considered an hour ago. "Well, I've been working on this novel. About a city girl who falls for a mountain man and discovers that home isn't a place, it's a person."
"Sounds like a bestseller to me."
"We'll see. But first, I need to call Enid back."
"What are you going to tell her?"
I look around at the life we've built.
"I'm going to tell her I already found what I was looking for."
***
Author's Note: Sometimes the best adventures aren't the ones that take you around the world. They're the ones that bring you home to yourself. And sometimes the love you don't see coming is exactly the love you need.