Epilogue - One Year Later
Alden
With a sense of déjà vu, I pulled open the front door of the public library and walked in out of the snow. The place was the same, but the purpose was very different.
I was barely through the door before a gorgeous woman in a dress that resembled an elf costume threw herself into my arms. “It’s here, it’s here,” she said, beaming brighter than the star on the Christmas tree in our cabin.
She grabbed my hand and dragged me over to the library’s display of new books.
There, between the latest Stephen King and James Patterson novels, was my debut thriller.
One I had written in a state of despair I’d wanted to ignore, and completed with the help of the little ball of sunshine beside me.
“Can I take you to lunch?” I asked.
She kissed me and grabbed her coat.
We walked down the snowy street toward one of our favorite places to eat, Ruby’s Diner.
We settled into the booth and ordered our usual. It was the new normal in my life, one I knew I would never tire of, doing all the day-to-day things with my favorite person.
“How was therapy?” she asked after we’d ordered.
“Good.”
“Easy there. Don’t bog me down with the details.”
I snorted. “It was good because I was working toward a milestone, and my therapist agreed that I’ve finally reached it.”
She linked her fingers with mine. “I’m happy for you, Alden. You can tell me about it if you want. You don’t have to, though.”
A smile spread across my lips. I loved how she offered help without pushing.
“I want to share this one with you.” It had been a long road to get to where I was.
I was struggling with more than I wanted to admit, so I was glad she had suggested therapy.
Though when I first decided to go, it was more to make her happy than because I really thought it would help.
“I feel like I can enjoy the little things rather than catastrophizing as much as I used to. I like to share things with you, but I don’t think my mental stability depends solely on you.
I can handle things, and we can handle things together, and overall, I just feel really, I don’t know, at peace lately. ”
She squeezed my hand. “That’s amazing to hear. I love you.”
I smiled. “Love you too. My therapist agreed with all the things I said, and when I told him about something I wanted to do, he agreed I was ready. So I guess I want to know if you’re ready too.”
“Ready for what?”
“To marry me.” I pulled a ring box from my pocket, clicked it open, and slid it across the table.
She stared at me open-mouthed. The server came by and dropped off our food, then scurried away, sensing she was interrupting. Joy still didn’t move.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. I mean yes to the okay question and yes to the proposal. I just…yes. God, yes, I want to marry you.” She darted around the side of the table and launched herself into my arms. My fork clattered to the floor, but we didn’t let go.
When she finally pulled away, I grabbed the ring from the box and slid it on her finger.
“It’s beautiful.”
I scratched the back of my neck. “I thought since you love to be creative with your clothes, a simple style would go with everything,” I said, feeling oddly self-conscious about my choice.
I had gone back and forth in my head a hundred times before settling on a simple silver band with a solitaire stone in the middle.
She held up her hand to admire the ring. “I love that you thought of that. It’s perfect.”
I breathed out a sigh of relief.
She cocked her head. “You weren’t nervous that I’d say no, were you?”
I laughed and shook my head. “No, but it took twenty-five years for you to agree to a date with me. I didn’t want to wait another twenty-five for us to get married.”
She smirked. “Well, you didn’t ask twenty-five years ago.”
“Doesn’t mean I didn’t want you.”
“And now you have me, and I have you.”