Epilogue
Quinn
Christmas Day, This Year
Laughter, music, conversation, and the tinkling of glasses and cutlery on plates filled my living room. There had never been a Christmas like this one. Taran and I had to borrow a dining table from Laird and Finella to make it happen.
After everything we’d been through to get here, Taran wanted to celebrate our first Christmas back together with all our family, and that included the friends who had become family to us.
Cammie always decorated for me, but Taran insisted that me, her, and Angus decorate the tree on his weekend in Leth Sholas, so the multicolored chaos of it looked out of place next to the elegant dark blues and whites of Cammie’s wreaths and Christmas garlands and baubles.
Taran sat at one end of the table, laughing with London about something as I approached with a tray of hot caramel sauce for the puddings.
We’d pushed the two tables together to accommodate my sister, our parents, Laird, Finella, and their boys, Angus, Heather, her girlfriend Hazel, London, Ramsay, Murray, Tierney, and Forde.
Kiera and Gary would have the kids for Hogmanay.
Heather had even promised to forgo New Year’s plans back in Glasgow to spend it with her mum and Gary.
Taran had invited them to Christmas dinner, but they were taking this opportunity to go on holiday for the first time in ages, so they were in New York.
Heather and Hazel were engaged in conversation with Cammie while Angus turned in his seat to chatter away, hands gesturing wildly to Taran’s nephews Aird and Finn.
Another of Taran’s confessed worries was her disconnect from her nephews.
She felt badly about all the time she’d spent off the island and how little energy she’d given to getting to know them since her return, because they were so distant with her.
Together we were putting in more effort to see Finn and Aird, and slowly Taran was growing closer to them.
Hazel had arrived with Heather on Leth Sholas a few days ago.
She was reserved compared to Heather, polite and well-spoken.
Helpful around the house and really a very sweet girl.
It was unfathomable to me that her relationship with her parents had worsened since she’d come out to them a few months ago.
But it was my pleasure to give her a safe place to be during Christmas.
Heather made her laugh and blush, and I could tell she really cared about my daughter.
That’s all that mattered to me. I wasn’t sure they’d tell me much about their escapades at uni, but with Taran in the mix, they regaled us about their first term as freshmen at their respective universities.
I could see a change in Heather already.
She’d always been confident, but there was an extra assertiveness to her now that she knew she could live out in the world on her own.
It was as scary as it was gratifying.
Thankfully, while my daughter was enjoying her independence in the frenetic environment of Glasgow, it had been quiet these past few months in Leth Sholas.
That, of course, was after the mainland newspapers got wind of the story of a Glasgow crack dealer kidnapping Taran to steal a valuable antique.
That hadn’t been fun, and Ramsay had to lie low.
“You people are going to blow my cover,” he’d growled at me one morning not long after the story broke.
I didn’t think it was wise to tell him that Taran had guessed about his background.
As for Edward White and Christopher Pollock, they both survived their gunshot wounds and were facing charges. Mrs. Gilchrist proclaimed absolute innocence on the matter, and Edward White confirmed she had no idea about the pocket watch.
Eventually, peace returned to Glenvulin.
Ramsay proposed to Tierney, so we celebrated that, much to his chagrin.
Murray’s custody battle with his wife had escalated, hence why he was here alone, looking depressed without Kelly to celebrate with.
London had hesitantly accepted Taran’s offer to let her live in the bungalow rent free.
It was kind of jumping the gun since the pocket watch hadn’t sold yet.
After several appraisals that confirmed it was a very special, 150-year-old Patrice Pellier pocket watch, it was scheduled for auction at Sotheby’s in London a week after Hogmanay.
Our auctioneer and antiques specialist there already had interested parties.
My girlfriend was about to become a multimillionaire.
Not that she had any grand plans other than to use it on donations and to fancy up the LSLS Charity Shop.
And, of course, Taran had moved in with me.
She stacked the dishwasher in an illogical manner, had more lotions than I’d ever seen any woman own ever, had a normal amount of clothes but an insane number of handbags, and I kept finding long strands of her hair everywhere.
While she could bake, her cooking left something to be desired, and she hated that I liked to leave items out that I knew I needed to deal with in the near future.
If I put them away, I’d forget about them, but the “clutter” irritated her.
As did the logical way I stacked the dishwasher, the sawdust I left everywhere like a “construction fairy,” and that I left toothpaste rings on the sink.
And yet … it was bliss.
Our need for each other hadn’t lessened, and I daren’t tell any of our guests that there were very few surfaces in the house that we hadn’t had sex on.
There was nothing like the contentment I felt cuddling up on the couch with her at night to watch the true crime docs she still loved, even after her own traumatic experiences.
Or waking up to her beautiful face every morning, knowing I got to wake up to her like this for the rest of our lives.
Together we were strong, even when Taran’s fear proved true and her genetic test came back positive for the brCA1 and brCA 2 altered genes.
She was negative for the PALB2. But she handled it well and was refusing, after everything we’d gone through, to let the possibility of breast cancer rule her.
It meant regular breast screenings, but I saw that only as a good thing because it meant early detection.
It meant being as in control of the situation as we could be.
It wasn’t going to stop us from living our lives and planning for the future.
I thought about the velvet ring box I’d stashed under the mattress and smirked to myself as I sat down.
Taran’s eyes met mine across the length of the tables and she cocked her head in thought, as if she’d read the mischief in my expression.
Tomorrow was Boxing Day. Heather had plans to take Hazel to visit some old friends.
Angus was spending the day with my mum, Greg, and Cammie.
Taran didn’t know any of this. She didn’t know I planned to drive her to the cove I took her to for the first time when we were just kids.
That I planned to get down on one knee and ask her to marry me.
Some people would say it was too soon.
I’d say twenty-eight years was long enough.
That’s why I wanted to revisit our talk about kids. Taran was now in the high-risk category for pregnancy, and we wanted a family together. I think we needed to get started on that sooner rather than later. So … wedding first, then baby. Fingers crossed, anyway.
“What?” My soon-to-be fiancée mouthed.
I shrugged and murmured, “Just happy.”
She beamed, which told me she’d lipread me correctly.
“Okay, let’s dig into this delicious pudding. It smells amazing, darling,” Mum called loudly down the table to me.
“Good.”
“We didn’t do a toast before we dug into the food.” Cammie raised her half-empty wineglass, grinning as she looked around the table. “To Quinn and Taran, for battling through an epic love story so they could provide us with this excellent Christmas table!”
“Aye, that’s why we did it, Cam. To feed you at Christmas.”
My sister cackled at my dry tone. “To Quinn and Taran!”
“To Quinn and Taran!” Our guests raised their glasses in unison.
“Did you say yes?!” Angus squealed at Taran. “Did I miss it?”
Oh fuck.
“Angus.” Heather shook her head frantically at him.
My son seemed confused. “But … but we toasted them.”
“Say yes to what?” Taran frowned.
I gave my daughter a look, begging her to deny that she’d told Angus about the proposal. I loved my son dearly, but he couldn’t keep a secret to save himself.
Heather, unfortunately, winced. “Sorry.”
“Say yes to what?”
“To Dad,” Angus chirped. Then he finally read the room, his gaze darting to mine in horror. “Oh … oops.”
Taran’s spoon fell and hit her bowl, splashing ice cream and caramel sauce into London’s face.
London blinked in surprise but then calmly wiped off the dessert with the napkin Murray held out to her.
Taran gaped at me.
Fuck, shit, fuck.
“I’m sorry, Dad.” Angus sniffled.
“It’s okay, bud,” I assured him as an awful silence fell across the tables.
“Quinn? Were you … are you going to … is there a …” Taran’s voice trailed off after its pitch just got too high for her to continue without squawking.
I sank back in my seat, abandoning dessert. “Tomorrow … tomorrow I planned to take you to our cove and ask you to marry me with the ring I have hidden under our mattress.”
Everyone’s heads swiveled in unison to Taran.
Her cheeks were flushed, her lips parting wider and wider with her surprise.
For a moment, my heart stopped.
Had I been too certain she’d say yes?
Oh fuck, was she going to crush me in front of our entire family?
“Yes!” Taran suddenly yelled comically, the word bursting out of her. “Yes! Y-yes, y-yessuh!” It ended on a sob as her face crumpled with tears.
My chair slid out behind me as I quickly launched from it and hurried to the other end of the tables to pull my crying fiancée into my arms. “Is that a yes?” I teased, pressing kisses to her wet cheeks.
She nodded, unable to speak, and buried her face in my chest as our family cheered and clinked glassware together. “I love you so much,” Taran mumbled against my shirt, holding on to me for dear life.
“Oh, Mo luaidh …” I bent my head to speak softly in her ear, “No word exists in any language to describe the depth of my love for you.”
She sobbed a little harder but finally lifted her head to kiss me with everything she felt, uncaring of our audience.
When Heather and Angus interrupted to throw their arms around us, I pulled them in close, assuring my son all was well. This was better, I promised him. This was perfect. Proposing to Taran with my children here was symbolic of how far we’d come. Of who we were now. Of what our love had become.
We were two halves of a whole, Taran and I, incomplete without the other. But my other half was incomplete without Angus and Heather.
I wasn’t myself without each of them.
It was finally the end of a nineteen-year existence of feeling like something was missing.
With Taran at our side, I was myself in my entirety.
We were ourselves in our entirety.
And when you had that kind of certainty in life, it made you strong enough to anchor yourself against any storm that blew your way.
Taran and I would never be blown adrift from each other ever again.
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