Epilogue
Valentina
Home Ice Advantage: Building Forever
Three months later . . .
The thing about moving in with someone is that it’s both completely overwhelming and oddly hilarious.
For starters, everything I own has been in storage since I moved in with Noelle. It’s like opening a time capsule to a version of me that thought a sequined throw pillow was a great idea and that owning five different garlic presses was perfectly normal.
Kaden stands in the middle of the living room where we’re opening the boxes and trying to figure out where we’ll place them. After three months of seriously dating and realizing that there’s no time like the present, I agreed to move in with him.
We’re not ready to talk wedding, but I’m open to forever with him. Just because my first marriage didn’t work, it doesn’t mean I have to stop living—or loving.
“So, this is your stuff?” Kade mumbles.
“This is some of my stuff,” I correct, brushing a layer of dust off a box labeled Val’s Kitchen Essentials. “The rest—my clothes—are still back at Noelle’s.”
He arches an eyebrow, stepping over a precariously balanced tower of boxes. “How many kitchen essentials can one person have? Is there a waffle iron in there? An air fryer? A pasta maker?”
I glare at him, popping the tape on a box and rummaging through its contents. “Excuse me for being prepared for any cooking emergency.”
He picks up a pink ceramic teapot shaped like a cat and holds it up with a smirk. “And this? Also essential?”
“It was a gift.” I snatch the teapot out of his hands, clutching it to my chest like it’s a family heirloom. “Grandma Jane got it for me when I moved into my first apartment. It stays.”
“Okay, fine.” He raises his hands in mock surrender, grinning. “But we’re going to have to negotiate. My place doesn’t have room for all your cat-shaped . . . everything.”
I shoot him a look. “Your kitchen needs all the essentials—even cat shaped ones.”
I laugh despite myself, shaking my head as I pull out a stack of framed photos. There’s one of me and Noelle at her wedding, another of my parents, and one of me holding Ruben, my dog. My chest tightens for a moment, the sting of the past still faint but no longer unbearable.
Kaden notices, his teasing fading as he steps closer. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I say softly, running my fingers over the edge of the photo frame. “I just miss him.”
He frowns. “Steve?”
“No, Ruben, my pup.”
He takes the frame from my hands, studying the picture for a moment before setting it gently back in the box. “He’s handsome,” he says, his voice steady and reassuring. “We can always adopt a pup, when we’re ready.”
“You really mean that?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Every word,” he says, leaning in to kiss my forehead. “We’re a team, Val. And if that means making room for a cat-shaped teapot, learning to train a dog, or just figuring out something different, I’ll find a way.”
A laugh bubbles out of me, watery and full of disbelief. “You’re amazing, you know that?”
He shrugs, his expression almost bashful, though his smirk gives him away. “I’d do anything for you,” he says, his tone turning serious, his gaze locking with mine like he’s making a vow. “Because I love you. Because you’re mine. Anything, Val. Dogs, cats, kinky sex every hour within the hour—because, let’s face it, there’s no way to keep up with you. Anything and everything. If it means forever with you, I’m all in.”
The tears hit me before I can stop them. Hot and unstoppable, they spill down my cheeks as I let out a choked laugh. “You really do love me, huh?”
“More than I can put into words,” he murmurs, cupping my face in his hands and wiping a tear away with his thumb. His touch is so gentle, it makes my chest ache in the best way. “But I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to show you.”
I throw my arms around his neck, burying my face in his shoulder as the tears keep coming, not out of sadness but because it feels like my heart is too full. Like all the love I’ve been holding back is finally pouring out.
“You’re ridiculous,” I say, my voice muffled against his shirt. “And you’re mine. Forever.”
He pulls back just enough to look at me, his grin equal parts smug and tender. “Damn right I am.”
And then he kisses me, his lips soft but insistent, like he’s staking his claim, like he’s saying, this is us—now and always.
When we finally pull apart, I’m laughing and crying at the same time, and he’s laughing too, that rare, unguarded sound that I know is just for me.
“So, about that cat-shaped teapot, can we negotiate?” He smirks as he wipes a tear off my cheek.
I laugh, swatting at his chest. “Shut up, Kaden.”
But as I look at him—this impossible, infuriating, wonderful man who somehow loves me exactly as I am—I realize I’ve never been happier. And I know, without a doubt, that this is it.
Forever. Us. And every wild, messy, beautiful thing that comes with it.