Epilogue
The guitar cases were blocking the hallway again.
Annabelle stood in the doorway of the cottage, arms full of marking books, and stared at the instrument cases that had taken up semi-permanent residence against the wall. Right next to the coat rack. Which meant she had to do an awkward sideways shuffle every time she wanted to hang up her jacket.
This was not the first time they'd had this conversation.
"Raven?" she called out, depositing her school bag on the kitchen table and pushing past the offending guitar cases. "Love? We've talked about this."
No answer.
Annabelle made her way through the cottage, their cottage, even if it was technically still hers and far too small for two people and an ever-expanding collection of musical equipment.
She found Raven in what used to be the spare room and was now the "music room," though "organized chaos" would be a more accurate description.
Raven was hunched over her acoustic guitar, headphones on, completely absorbed in whatever she was playing. Her dark hair was pulled back in a messy bun, and she was wearing the ancient band t-shirt she refused to throw away despite the holes.
Annabelle's heart did that stupid little flip it always did when she looked at her.
Even after two years.
Especially after two years.
She waited until Raven glanced up, then pointed meaningfully toward the hallway.
Raven pulled off her headphones, looking guilty. "Sorry. I was going to move it."
"You said that yesterday. And the day before. And…"
"I know, I know." Raven set down her guitar and stood, stretching. "I've just been… I've been thinking."
"About the guitar blocking our hallway?"
"About change."
Annabelle felt something cold settle in her stomach. "Change?"
"Yeah." Raven crossed her arms, looking defensive. "Look, we need to talk, but I've got to get to London for a recording session. I'm already late. Can we talk about this when I get back?"
"Talk about what?"
"It's time for a change, Annabelle." Raven grabbed her leather jacket from where it was draped over the chair. "Things can't stay like this forever."
And then she was gone, door closing behind her with a decisive click, leaving Annabelle standing in the music room with her heart suddenly racing.
Things can't stay like this forever.
Oh God.
This was it. The moment Annabelle had been dreading for two years. Raven had finally had enough of the commuting, the small cottage, the quiet village life that was so different from her glamorous career. She was leaving. For good this time.
Annabelle sank onto the chair Raven had just vacated, still warm, and pressed her hands to her face.
She'd known this day would come eventually. Hadn't she? Raven was a rockstar. Two successful solo albums, Grammy nominations, sold-out tours. What was she doing stuck in a tiny cottage in Bankton with a primary school teacher who got over-excited about laminating things?
Stop it, she told herself firmly. You're spiraling. She probably just means she wants a bigger house. Or maybe she wants to repaint the spare room. Or…
But the cold feeling in her stomach wouldn't go away.
AFTER A SLEEPLESS night, Annabelle had almost convinced herself she was being ridiculous.
Probably.
Maybe.
Raven loved her. She loved Raven. That was completely and indisputably true. Therefore, Raven wasn’t thinking about leaving her. So she must be thinking about leaving the village. It was the only thing that made sense.
She swept into her classroom with her brightest smile firmly in place, greeting the children as they filed in for registration.
Jenny showed her a drawing of what appeared to be a dragon eating ice cream.
Luke proudly announced he'd lost another tooth.
Bailey asked if they could have Billy the bull visit again, which was an absolute no after last time, when Billy had chewed all the posters in the classroom, but Annabelle let her down gently.
Everything was fine. Everything was always fine.
"Ms. Swift?" Nina appeared at her elbow during morning break. "Are you okay? You seem a bit… distracted."
"I'm perfect!" Annabelle said brightly. Too brightly, judging by Nina's concerned expression. "Absolutely brilliant. Why do you ask?"
"You called Luke 'Jenny' three times this morning."
"Did I?" Annabelle laughed. "How silly of me. Just tired, I think."
She wasn't tired. She was terrified.
By lunch time, she couldn't take it anymore. There was something that she knew she had to do, no matter how much she didn’t want to do it. But like she always told the children, if you were scared to do something, then you just had to do it scared.
She found Lily in the library, the saved library, still going strong two years later, with a brand new section for music and performing arts funded by The Safe Place Fund, and closed the door behind her.
"I need to ask you something," Annabelle said without preamble.
Lily looked up from her computer, eyebrows raised. "Hello to you too."
"Sorry. Hello. How are you? Good? Good. I need to ask you something."
"So I gathered." Lily leaned back in her chair. "What's wrong?"
"I need…" Annabelle took a deep breath. "I need to take a sabbatical."
Lily's expression didn't change. "A sabbatical."
"Yes."
"Not something that primary school teachers generally take. More under the auspices of university professors, I think."
"I know. But I need one. To travel. With Raven. For her tour."
There was a long pause.
"Annabelle," Lily said carefully, "where is this coming from?"
"She's leaving," Annabelle said, the words tumbling out now. "She said things can't stay like this forever, and she's right, the commuting is exhausting for her, and I've been thinking, maybe if I go with her, we can make it work properly, and I know it's a lot to ask but…"
"Stop." Lily held up a hand. "Have you actually talked to Raven about this?"
"Not exactly."
"Meaning not at all."
"She's in London until tomorrow."
Lily sighed. "Annabelle, you know I love you, but you have to stop trying to fix everything."
"I'm not trying to fix things!" Annabelle protested. "I'm just asking. That's different, isn't it? I'm just… adapting to circumstances. Being flexible."
"Is that what we're calling it?"
"I have to know if it’s possible before I bring it up with her, don’t I? And I just want us to be happy. Both of us."
Lily studied her for a long moment. "And you think giving up your job and following her around the world is going to make you happy?"
"I don't know," Annabelle admitted. "But I have to try something."
Another pause. Then Lily nodded slowly. "Well, I suppose teachers take parental leave for a year, so I don’t see why we couldn’t make this work. Alright. If that's what you really want, I'll see what I can arrange. But Annabelle?"
"Yes?"
"Remember that you can't fix every problem. Sometimes people have to work things out themselves."
"I know," Annabelle said, even though she wasn't sure she believed it.
But Lily agreed, and that was the important thing. Annabelle left the library feeling lighter than she had in days. See? She wasn't trying to fix things. She was being proactive. There was a difference.
She spent the rest of the day planning. By the time school ended, she'd decided to arrange a little celebration at the pub when Raven got back tomorrow. Nothing fancy, just a drink to celebrate… well, to celebrate the new chapter they were about to start together.
Perfect.
Everything was going to be perfect.
THE NEXT EVENING, Annabelle arrived at the pub with butterflies doing acrobatics in her stomach. She'd changed her outfit three times, finally settling on the yellow dress Raven said brought out her eyes, and she'd even attempted to do something with her hair beyond "functional ponytail."
She pushed through the door and immediately spotted Raven at the bar.
Talking to Daisy.
Deep in conversation, actually, both of them leaning close like they were discussing something important.
Annabelle's heart sank. She was too late. Raven was telling people already. Probably asking Daisy for advice about breaking it to Annabelle gently, or…
"Annabelle!" Arty spotted her and waved her over. "There you are. Perfect timing."
She made her way through the familiar crowd, Gloria holding court at her usual table, Blossom reading in the corner, a handful of regulars at the bar, and came to stand next to Raven.
Raven looked up and smiled, that slow, private smile that was just for Annabelle. "Hey. You look nice."
"Thanks." Annabelle couldn't hold it in any longer. The words burst out of her before she could stop them. If she didn’t say them now, then it might be too late to say them at all.
"I need to tell you something. I've been thinking about what you said, about things needing to change, and I've talked to Lily, and I'm not trying to fix things, really I'm not, I'm just being practical, but I'm going to take a sabbatical.
So I can travel with you. For your tour. Wherever you need to go."
Raven's smile vanished. "What? No."
"What?"
"Absolutely not."
Annabelle felt like she'd been slapped. "But you said…"
Raven stood up, and suddenly everyone in the pub seemed to be paying attention. "You're not taking a sabbatical."
"I've already arranged it with Lily…"
"Then un-arrange it." Raven's voice was firm. "Because I'm not going on tour."
The pub had gone very quiet.
"You're not?"
"No. I'm staying in Bankton." Raven crossed her arms. "For good."
Annabelle's brain stuttered to a halt. "For… for good?"
"I'm retiring."
"WHAT?" Gloria's voice cut across the pub like a theatrical thunderclap. "Why on earth would you do that?"
Raven looked at her, then at the rest of the pub, all of whom were now blatantly eavesdropping. "Because I'm done. I've had two successful solo albums. I've proved what I needed to prove. And now I'm done."
"But your career…" Annabelle started.
"Is exactly where I want it to be. Finished." Raven's expression softened slightly. "I don't want to tour anymore, Annabelle. I don't want to spend months away from you. I want to be here. In Bankton. With you."
"Well," Gloria said, looking absolutely delighted, "in that case, we'll need you as musical director for the Bankton Players. We can finally do Les Mis."
"Absolutely not," Raven said, but there was no heat in it, and her eyes were still on Annabelle.
"Oh, you'll come around," Gloria said airily. "They always do."
Daisy, who had been watching the whole exchange with barely contained glee, suddenly piped up. "Actually, that's what we were talking about. There's a house on the outskirts of the village. Big one. Four bedrooms, music studio, proper garden. It's perfect for you two."
"A house?" Annabelle echoed faintly.
"Well, you can't keep living in that tiny cottage," Daisy said reasonably. "Not with all Raven's guitars. And you'll need space for…"
"For staying put," Arty finished, appearing with drinks for everyone. "About time you both settled down properly."
Annabelle's head was spinning. Raven was staying. Raven was retiring. Raven wanted to be with her.
Raven was looking at her now with an expression that was almost… nervous.
"So," Raven said quietly, just to Annabelle now despite their very public audience. "You haven't said anything. Don't you want me anymore?"
"Want you?" Annabelle's voice came out as a squeak. "You want to be together all the time?"
"Yes." Raven took a step closer. "I suppose so. I want to be with you." She paused, looking suddenly thoughtful. Then, in typical grumpy-Raven fashion, with absolutely no preamble or romance: "You wouldn't want to get married, would you?"
Annabelle shrieked.
The pub erupted.
Gloria burst into tears. Arty started pouring champagne. Daisy was bouncing up and down. Blossom actually put down her book. Even Mrs. Albright's cat, who'd somehow gotten into the pub again, seemed to meow approvingly.
Raven looked simultaneously mortified and pleased.
"I didn't plan that," she muttered to Annabelle as the pub continued to celebrate around them. "I was going to do something more… I don't know. Romantic. Less public."
"It was perfect," Annabelle said, and she meant it.
"You're just saying that because you like fixing my disasters."
"Maybe." Annabelle grinned. "Are we really doing this?"
"Apparently." Raven pulled her close, right there in front of everyone. "Unless you've changed your mind in the last thirty seconds."
"Never."
They kissed, and the pub cheered louder, and everything was chaotic and perfect and exactly right.
MUCH LATER, AFTER they'd escaped the celebration and were walking home through the quiet village streets, Raven said, "You were really going to take a sabbatical?"
"Of course I was." Annabelle was holding Raven's hand, swinging their arms gently. "I thought you were leaving."
"I was never leaving."
"You said things couldn't stay like this forever."
"I meant the cottage is too small and my guitars deserve better storage." Raven shot her a sideways look. "You were trying to fix things again."
"I was not."
"You absolutely were. Trying to make everything perfect." But there was no accusation in Raven's voice. Just affection.
Annabelle considered denying it. Then decided honesty was probably better. "Maybe a little bit."
Raven laughed, the sound echoing in the quiet street. "After that impromptu proposal I just made in a pub, probably I could use someone to help make me a little more perfect."
"You're already perfect."
"Liar." Raven stopped walking and pulled Annabelle close. "But maybe… maybe it's nice to have someone who wants to fix things for you sometimes. Even when you don't ask them to."
"Even when it's annoying?"
"Especially when it's annoying."
They kissed again, more slowly this time, under the moonlight that painted the village in silver and shadows.
Somewhere nearby, a guitar melody drifted through an open window, probably one of Jamie's practice sessions.
He'd be moving to the private secondary school two villages over next year, the one with the good music program, thanks to the scholarship Raven had quietly arranged through The Safe Place Fund.
Some things, Annabelle thought as she melted into Raven's arms, were worth fixing.
And some things, like this, like them, like their ridiculous, chaotic, perfect life together, were already exactly right.
They walked the rest of the way home hand in hand, past Blossom’s cafe where the lights were all out, past Gloria's house where theatrical costumes could be glimpsed through the windows, past the school where Annabelle would be tomorrow morning with her smile and her lemon biscuits and her determined optimism.
Past all of it, to their too-small cottage that would soon be a proper house with room for guitars and maybe even a matching dinosaur-print pajamas if Annabelle had her way.
To their happily ever after.
Which looked an awful lot like coming home.