Epilogue
Two years later, and somehow everything feels… steady. That’s the word I come back to the most. Not easy—nothing worth having ever is—but solid in a way I didn’t think was possible back then.
Back when everything felt like it was on the verge of falling apart.
Back when I stood outside that shelter and thought I was about to lose everything.
I lean against the railing of the porch, a cup of coffee in my hand.
The air is warm, quiet, peaceful in that way you only notice after you’ve lived through chaos.
Inside, I can hear Willow laughing. That sound still does something to me. Still hits me the same way it did the first time I realized I was in trouble.
I shake my head slightly, a small smile pulling at my lips. I was done for the second she walked into that garage. It just took me a while to admit it. The screen door creaks behind me, and I don’t have to turn around to know who it is.
“You’ve been out here for like twenty minutes,” Willow says, her voice light, teasing. “Are you planning something mysterious, or just avoiding helping me with dinner?”
I glance over my shoulder at her. Still completely capable of knocking the air out of my lungs with one look.
“Little bit of both,” I admit.
She smiles, walking toward me, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she stops at my side. I still look at her like I’m seeing her for the first time. I don’t think that’s ever going to change.
“You’re thinking again,” she says, nudging me lightly with her shoulder.
“Dangerous, I know.”
“Very.”
I take a sip of my coffee, then glance back out at the horizon.
“Just… thinking about how things turned out.”
She follows my gaze for a second before looking back at me. “Good or bad?”
“Good,” I say immediately.
No hesitation. Because it is. It really is. Even with everything we went through to get here.
Even with the fights. The time it took for everything to settle. Especially with him. I let out a quiet breath.
“Your dad called me this morning,” I say.
Her brows lift slightly. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” I huff out a small laugh. “Wanted to remind me that I still owe him for that fence I said I’d help fix three months ago.”
She smiles, shaking her head. “Sounds about right.”
It took time. More than I wanted. More than I thought it would. There were weeks where he wouldn’t even look at me. Months where every conversation felt like walking through a minefield. But we got there. Slowly.
Until one day, it wasn’t tension anymore. It was just… us. Not the same as before. But real. Something we rebuilt instead of something we pretended never broke.
“He doesn’t hate me anymore,” I add lightly.
Willow rolls her eyes. “He never hated you.”
I raise a brow. “You sure about that?”
She laughs softly. “Okay, maybe for like… a minute.”
“Felt longer.”
She reaches for my hand, her fingers slipping into mine like they belong there. Because they do.
“He trusts you,” she says quietly.
That lands deeper than anything else. Because that was the hardest part. Earning that back.
“I’m not messing that up again,” I say.
“You won’t.”
I glance at her. My thumb brushes lightly over the back of her hand.
“I love you,” I say..
It still feels just as big every time I say it. Her smile softens, her eyes warming in that way that still gets me every time.
“I love you too.”
I set my coffee down on the railing, turning fully toward her. She steps closer without hesitation. My hand comes up to her face, brushing gently along her cheek, my thumb catching just under her eye. Still beautiful. Still mine.
Her hand slides up my chest, resting over my heart like it did the first time everything changed.
“You’re staring again,” she murmurs.
“Can you blame me?”
She smiles, just a little, before her gaze drops to my lips for half a second.
Her lips meet mine, soft at first, familiar and warm, and it settles something deep in my chest instantly.
My hand slides into her hair, pulling her just a little closer as the kiss deepens, slow and sure, like we’ve got all the time in the world.
She exhales softly against me, her fingers tightening in my shirt, and I feel it everywhere, that same spark that never went away.
I kiss her like I mean it. Because I do. These little moments make me know that we’ll be together forever.
Then she wraps her legs around my waist, her heels digging into my ass. “You’re mine,” she whispered, her voice rough with need. “We have all morning—just the two of us. Did you want to… you know?”
I didn’t need to be asked twice.
I flip her onto her stomach, pulling her up onto her knees before slamming into her from behind. She cries out, her fingers clutching the rail as I bury myself to the hilt, my balls slapping against her clit with every thrust.
“Fuck, you feel amazing,” I groan, my hands gripping her hips hard enough to leave bruises.
“Harder,” she gasps, pushing back against me. “Fuck me harder.”
I obey, my hips snapping against her ass, my cock springing in and out of her tight, wet heat. The sounds we made—skin slapping against skin, her moans, my grunts—filled the air, a filthy symphony of lust.
“Yes, yes, yes—” she chants, her pussy clenching around me. “Don’t stop, don’t stop—”
I reached around, my fingers finding her clit, rubbing tight circles as I fuck her. She comes with a scream, her pussy milking my cock as her orgasm crashes over her. I don’t let up, my thrusts never slowing as I chase my own release. Her pleasure first. Always.
“Garrison, I’m gonna come again—” she whimpers, her body trembling.
“Do it,” I growl, my fingers working her clit faster. “Come for me, baby.”
She does, her second orgasm hitting her hard, her pussy flooding around my cock as I finally let go, my own release slamming into me. I come with a groan, my come filling her, my hips stuttering as I empty myself inside her.
We collapse onto the floor, our bodies slick with sweat, our breath coming in gasps. She rolls over, her fingers tracing patterns on my chest as she catches her breath.
“That was…” she murmurs, a satisfied smile playing on her lips.
“Yeah,” I agree, pulling her closer, my hand sliding down to cup her ass. “It was.”
She props herself up on her elbow, her eyes dark with renewed hunger. “We’re not done yet, are we?”
I grin, rolling her onto her back, my cock already hardening again. “Not even close.”
And this is why I am the luckiest man in the world.