Epilogue
Red was my new favorite color. I always thought it was blue before, but seeing Katherine step up on that stage and receive her Oscar wearing that red dress, I knew that red would be my favorite color to my dying day.
Her smile had been radiant. Genuine. Not the practiced Hollywood smile she'd worn for years, but real joy as she'd thanked her director, her co-stars, and then—voice breaking—"my husband, Code, who reminded me what it means to be brave."
I'd watched from my seat, uncomfortable in my tuxedo, surrounded by people who made more in a month than I'd earned in a year in the Army, and felt my chest tighten with pride.
That was my wife. My Katherine. And she'd just won a fucking Oscar.
Now we were at some after-party in a venue that looked like it had been the backdrop to hundreds of movies. Everything was gold and crystal and excessive. Servers floated by with champagne and tiny portions of food that looked like art installations.
Katherine's hand found mine, squeezing. "You okay?"
"I'm fine."
"You have your 'tactical assessment' face on."
"I always have that face on."
"Not when we're home." She leaned into me, and I caught the scent of her perfume—something floral and expensive that Angelica had insisted she needed for tonight. "Thank you for being here."
"Where else would I be?"
"In Jasper Creek, hiding in your office, complaining about having to wear a tux."
She wasn't wrong.
"Katherine!" A man's voice boomed across the room. Marcus Laughton, her co-star, headed our way with his own Oscar in hand. Best Actor.
"Marcus!" Katherine hugged him, both of them laughing, and I stepped back to give them space. This was her world, her moment. I was just the guy who got to take her home at the end of it.
"Can you believe it?" Marcus grinned at both of us. "We actually did it. Best Picture, Best Actor, Best Actress. The sweep."
"The film deserved it," Katherine said.
"You deserved it." He turned to me, extending his hand. "Code, good to see you again, man. Thanks for keeping this one grounded during the insanity."
I shook his hand. "She doesn't need me for that. She's tougher than both of us."
"Truth." He raised his Oscar. "I'm going to go show this to my mom. She's losing her mind somewhere over by the dessert table. Kit, save me a dance later?"
"Always."
He disappeared into the crowd. Katherine turned to me, eyes sparkling. "See? That wasn't so bad."
"The night's still young."
She laughed and pulled me toward a quieter corner. "Come on, Grumpy. Let's find somewhere you can breathe."
We'd made it halfway across the room when a woman's voice stopped us.
"Kit!"
We both turned and smiled as Sophie Tremaine rushed over to us. She gave Katherine a huge hug. She still hadn’t made it out to Tennessee to see the new house, but she promised that after this next movie of hers wrapped up, she’d be on the next flight.
"Congratulations! I’m so happy for you. You deserved this win."
"Thank you,” Katherine smiled big.
Sophie turned to me, and I gave her a hug.
“How’s Russell?” Katherine asked quietly.
"He's doing better now. I haven't actually seen Russell in about six months. The work he's doing is classified, I think. But I got to talk to him on the phone last month, and he sounded... happy. Purposeful. Like he'd finally found something worth doing."
"I'm glad," Katherine said, and I could tell she meant it. I’d had Bruno check up on him. So far he was keeping his nose clean. The Department of Homeland Security was keeping a tight leash on him.
“Sophie!”
Katherine and I both turned to see a tall blonde man walking purposefully over to Sophie’s side. Our friend looked flushed.
“Kit, Code. I’d like to introduce you to Patrick Greene, he’s my date. He works as—”
“I don’t have anything to do with the movie industry,” Patrick said as he held out his hand.
I grinned. “In that case, it’s great to meet you, Patrick. My name is Code Drakos.”
The four of us talked for a little bit before Sophie and Patrick were called off by another group of people.
"Come on. Let's find Angelica and Bruno. They're probably causing trouble somewhere."
We found them by the bar. Angelica in a glittering silver gown, holding court with a group of industry people while Bruno stood slightly behind her, looking as uncomfortable as I felt. He caught my eye and raised his beer in solidarity.
"Code!" Angelica launched herself at me, somehow not spilling her champagne. "Your wife won an Oscar! Can you believe it?"
"I can believe it."
"Always so serious." She kissed Katherine's cheek. "You were magnificent, darling. The speech, the dress, everything."
"You helped pick the dress."
"I know. I'm a genius." She waved her glass. "Bruno and I have a bet about how long you two last before you flee back to Tennessee."
"What's the over-under?" I asked.
"I said one more hour," Bruno said. "Angelica said three."
"She wins," Katherine said. "We promised Simon and Roan we'd stay until at least midnight. They're here somewhere, being very uncomfortable in their tuxedos."
"Speaking of uncomfortable," I muttered as another photographer tried to get our attention.
Katherine tugged me away before they could corner us. We wound through the party, stopping to talk with her director, her agent, various people whose names I'd forget by morning. Everyone wanted to congratulate her, touch her Oscar, bask in her success.
And through it all, she kept me close, her hand in mine, grounding herself the same way I was grounding myself in her.
Finally, we escaped to a balcony overlooking Los Angeles. The city sprawled below us, a sea of lights. The noise of the party faded to a dull roar behind us.
"You hate this," Katherine said.
"I don't hate it."
"Code."
"Okay, I'm not a fan." I pulled her against me, her back to my chest. "But I'd endure a thousand parties like this if it meant watching you win that Oscar."
"Liar. You'd endure maybe three."
"Fine. Three. Then I'd drag you back to Jasper Creek and never let you leave."
She laughed. "Deal. Three more parties maximum per year."
"Including the Jasper Creek Harvest Festival?"
"That doesn't count. That's home."
Home. The word settled between us, comfortable and right.
"How's it feel?" I asked. "Getting everything you worked for?"
She was quiet for a moment, her fingers playing with her wedding ring—the engagement ring I'd given her plus a simple platinum band we'd added six months ago in a ceremony at Jase and Bonnie's house. Small. Family. Perfect.
"Honestly?" She turned in my arms to face me. "It feels good. Really good. But it's not everything."
"Kit—"
"I mean it." She touched my face. "This Oscar? It's incredible. It's validation and recognition and everything I thought I wanted. But you know what the best part of tonight was?"
"What?"
"Looking out into the audience and seeing you there.
Knowing that when this is all over, we get to go back to that house in Jasper Creek.
Have Sunday brunch with your entire chaotic family.
That's everything, Code. This—" she gestured to the party, the Oscar she'd set down on a nearby table "—this is just the cherry on top. "
I kissed her, slow and deep, not giving a damn if photographers saw or if we ended up in tomorrow's tabloids. Let them. Let the whole world know I was married to Oscar-winner Katherine Lord and that I was the luckiest bastard alive.
"Take me home," she whispered against my lips.
"It's only eleven. We promised Simon and Roan—"
"Take me home to the hotel. We'll come back if you want,” she teased, knowing it was the last thing I wanted. “But right now, I need to be alone with my husband."
I didn't need to be told twice.
We collected her coat, made hurried excuses to Angelica and Bruno, and escaped while most of the party was distracted by some celebrity drama unfolding near the champagne fountain.
In the limo—because apparently Oscar winners got limos—Katherine kicked off her heels and curled against me.
"Thank you," she said.
"For what?"
"For being exactly who you are. For not trying to be Hollywood. For being my safe place to land."
"Always."
She dozed against my shoulder as we drove through LA traffic. I watched the city lights streak by and thought about how much had changed in eighteen months.
I'd gone from barely sleeping, drowning in cybersecurity nightmares and Ukraine guilt, to this—married to an Oscar-winning actress, living in small-town Tennessee, actually building something that looked like a life.
My phone buzzed. Text from Jase.
Jase: She won!!!!! Bonnie's crying. The twins made her a crown out of aluminum foil. When are you coming home?
Me: Tomorrow. Tell the twins I'll bring them fake Oscars from the gift shop.
Jase: They'll lose their minds. Proud of you, cousin. You both deserve this.
I looked down at Katherine, her red dress pooling around her, her Oscar clutched in one hand, her other hand resting on my thigh. My wife. My home.
Yeah.
We did deserve this.
Back at the hotel, I carried her inside despite her protests that she could walk. She laughed against my neck as I kicked the door shut behind us.
"Very romantic, Caveman."
"Shut up. I'm having a moment."
I set her down gently, and she immediately reached for the zipper of her dress. I stopped her hands.
"Let me."
I unzipped the red dress slowly, watching it pool at her feet. Underneath was simple black lingerie—practical Katherine, even at the Oscars.
"You're staring," she said.
"I'm appreciating."
"Appreciate faster. I want to get out of this bra."
I laughed and helped her out of the rest. Then we collapsed onto the bed together, her in her underwear, me still in my tuxedo because I couldn't be bothered to take it off yet.
"Oscar-winner," I said.
"Shut up."
"Academy Award recipient Kit Lord."
"You're the worst."
"Best Actress, ladies and gentlemen."
She rolled on top of me, pinning my wrists. "Are you done?"
"Not even close. I plan to introduce you like that for at least a year."
"I'm going to divorce you."
"No you won't. You love me."
"Unfortunately." She kissed me, and I tasted champagne and joy and forever.
We made love slowly, carefully, her dress forgotten on the floor, my tuxedo jacket tossed somewhere near the bathroom. Afterwards, she curled into my side, one leg thrown over mine, her hand over my heart.
"Code?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you for saving me."
"You saved yourself, Katherine. I just helped you see it."
"We saved each other then."
I pressed a kiss to her hair. "Yeah. We did."
She fell asleep like that, Oscar-winner and small-town wife, Hollywood star and the woman who brought me coffee every morning in our kitchen in Tennessee.
And I lay there, watching her breathe, and thought about Russell Dunlap finding redemption in government work.
About sweet Sophie Tremaine finding peace and the beginning of her own celebrity.
About Katherine getting the recognition she'd earned.
About my entire family waiting back home to celebrate with us.
About how eighteen months ago, I'd been sitting in an airport USO, convinced I was done with purpose, but then I had Blessing telling me from now on my path would be clear. She’d been damn right about that.
Turned out, I'd been heading toward everything I didn't know I needed.
And now, with Katherine sleeping in my arms and tomorrow promising a flight back to Jasper Creek, I finally had my answer.
I was home.