Epilogue
EPILOGUE
T he cobbled streets of Civita di Bagnoregio stretched before them, winding through ancient stone buildings that had stood for centuries. The Italian sun cast a golden glow over the breathtaking cliffside village, making everything look like something out of a painting. Travis adjusted the straps of his backpack and glanced to his side where Sarah was walking ahead, her eyes wide with wonder.
“I knew you’d love this place,” Tatum said, grinning as she walked alongside Sarah. “It’s straight out of a fairytale.”
Sarah turned, her expression radiant. “It really is. I can’t believe this place still exists. It’s like stepping back in time.”
Travis chuckled. “Well, enjoy it while you can. Apparently, it’s eroding so fast they call it the ‘Dying City.’”
Sarah shot him a look. “What? How sad.”
He smirked. “Just keeping you grounded.”
She rolled her eyes but took his hand as they continued their walk through the narrow streets. He squeezed her fingers lightly, unable to stop himself from smiling. A year ago, if someone had told him he and Sarah would be here, in Italy, together—dating, happy, completely at peace—he wouldn’t have believed them.
And yet, here they were.
Tatum took the lead, reading out little historical facts from her phone as they wandered through the quiet alleyways. The village was small, with stunning views of the valley below at every turn. Time felt slower here, like they had stepped out of reality and into something timeless.
“Alright, you lovebirds,” Tatum said, stopping in front of a centuries-old stone archway. “Before I let you ditch me for some romantic sunset moment, I need a picture.”
Sarah laughed. “Fine. But only if you get in one too.”
They handed their phones off to a passing tourist, who happily took a few shots of the three of them, arms around each other, the valley stretching behind them in a breathtaking display.
After, Tatum checked the photos and nodded in satisfaction. “Okay, you’re free to go. I’ll meet you guys at that café near the bridge in an hour.”
Travis raised an eyebrow. “You sure you’ll be okay by yourself?”
Tatum scoffed. “Please. I have a mission to find the best gelato in this town, and I don’t need either of you slowing me down.”
Sarah grinned. “Fair point.”
With that, Tatum waved and walked off, disappearing into the winding streets.
Tatum meandered through the village, taking her time exploring the tiny shops filled with handmade ceramics, olive oils, and local wines. Every street corner held something picturesque—a hidden garden, a sunlit stone terrace, an elderly woman selling fresh biscotti.
She was on a mission for gelato when she found herself sidetracked by the sound of a deep, rich voice speaking in smooth Italian.
“Americana?”
Tatum turned, her eyebrows raising slightly as she took in the man standing before her. He was tall, dark-haired, with that effortlessly put-together look Italian men seemed to have mastered. His eyes were a warm hazel, and there was a mischievous spark in them as he smiled at her.
“Depends,” she said, crossing her arms. “Are you about to overcharge me for something?”
He laughed, a deep, genuine sound. “No, but I was about to recommend the best gelato in town. But if you’re not interested…”
Tatum narrowed her eyes, trying not to smile. “Go on.”
He gestured to the shop behind him. “Alberto’s. He’s been making gelato the same way for fifty years. Nothing too sweet, just perfect.”
Tatum glanced at the small shop, the smell of fresh cream and sugar drifting out into the air. It did look promising.
“Alright, mystery man,” she said, stepping forward. “You convinced me.”
They ordered their gelato—her, pistachio; him, hazelnut—and took a seat on a stone ledge overlooking the valley.
“So,” he said, licking his spoon. “I’m Luca.”
“Tatum,” she replied, trying not to stare at how ridiculously good-looking he was.
“First time in Civita di Bagnoregio?”
“Yep. Came here with my brother and my best friend.”
He nodded. “And yet, you ditched them for gelato?”
She smirked. “I have my priorities straight.”
Luca laughed again, and for the first time in a long time, Tatum felt something stir in her chest—something light, something easy.
Maybe Italy wasn’t just about her best friend finding love.
Maybe something exciting could happen for her too.
Travis led Sarah toward a quiet overlook, where the entire valley stretched before them in an endless sea of green and gold. The sun had begun its descent, casting long shadows across the landscape.
Sarah sighed, leaning on the stone railing. “It’s so beautiful.”
Travis didn’t respond right away. He was too busy memorizing the way the light danced across her face, the way her eyes softened when she was completely at peace.
After a moment, she turned to him, tilting her head. “What?”
He swallowed, suddenly feeling like all the words he’d prepared were stuck in his throat.
But then Sarah smiled, the kind of smile that had always undone him.
And he knew exactly what to say.
“I love you,” he said simply.
Her smile widened. “I love you too.”
His heart pounded as he reached into his pocket, fingers brushing over the small velvet box. His grip tightened around it, and then, before he could overthink it, he lowered himself onto one knee.
Sarah’s smile grew to fill her face. Tears filled her eyes.
Travis smiled up at her, his own heart racing. “Sarah Cooper, I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. Before I even knew what love really was, you were already it for me. You’re my best friend, my partner, my favorite person in the world. And I want to spend forever proving that to you.”
He opened the box, revealing a simple but elegant diamond ring. “So… what do you say? Will you marry me?”
Sarah let out a breathless laugh, her eyes shining with unshed tears.
Then she nodded. “Yes. Yes!”
Travis barely had time to stand before she threw herself into his arms, kissing him like she’d never let him go as he lifted her off the ground. Laughter bubbled between them as he spun her around, the ancient city their witness.
When he finally set her down, she cupped his face in her hands. “I can’t believe you just proposed to me in Italy,” she whispered, grinning.
“Seemed fitting,” he murmured. “Besides, I figured we’d start forever in the most beautiful place I could find.”
She laughed, slipping the ring onto her finger. “It’s perfect.”
“You’re perfect,” he corrected, brushing a stray tear from her cheek.
They stood there for a long time, wrapped in each other, as the sun dipped below the horizon.
Later, as they walked toward the café where Tatum was waiting, they found her sitting at a small outdoor table, deep in conversation with an attractive Italian man.
Travis exchanged a glance with Sarah, who smirked.
“Didn’t take her long,” Sarah whispered.
Travis chuckled. “Guess Italy’s working its magic on all of us.”
As they approached, Tatum looked up, her eyes glinting. “Took you long enough. Did you guys finally?—”
Sarah held up her hand, the ring catching the last rays of sunlight.
Tatum’s jaw dropped. “NO WAY.”
Luca lifted his cup of Espresso in a toast. “My congratulations.”
Travis grinned, pulling Sarah close. “She said yes.”
Tatum squealed, jumping up to hug them both. “Of course she did!”
Months later, Married
Sarah woke to the smell of hot cocoa, the golden glow of early morning light streaming through the frosted windowpanes. The fire in the stone hearth had burned low overnight, leaving only embers glowing beneath the fresh logs Travis had added. The warmth of the thick blankets wrapped around her made it tempting to stay curled up in bed forever, but she could already hear soft movement in the cabin.
She stretched, her fingers brushing against something cool and smooth.
Her ring.
A slow smile spread across her lips as she lifted her hand, turning it slightly so the diamond caught the light. Married. The word still felt foreign, but it also felt right.
“Morning, sleepyhead.”
Travis stood in the doorway, a steaming mug in each hand, wearing sweatpants and a thick thermal shirt that clung just right to his broad shoulders. His hair was still a mess from sleep, his cheeks slightly pink from the cold.
Sarah sat up, brushing her hair from her face. “Please tell me one of those is for me.”
He grinned and handed her a mug. “Extra cinnamon, just how you like it.”
She took a careful sip, sighing happily. “You really do love me.”
He smirked. “Figured you’d catch on eventually.”
She couldn’t fight her grin. “What’s got you up so early?”
Travis sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair. “The snow. It’s perfect outside. Fresh, untouched. I was thinking…” He paused, then grinned. “I challenge you to a snow fort battle.”
Sarah raised an eyebrow. “A battle?”
“Yep. Forts, snowballs—the works.” He took another sip of his cocoa, eyes twinkling. “Unless you’re scared?”
She set her mug down with exaggerated care. “You do remember that I spent an entire childhood alongside you, right? You want a snow war? You’re going down.”
He laughed. “That’s the spirit. Get dressed, Cooper. We’ve got some serious snow to conquer.”
The snow was thick and powdery, untouched except for their footprints as they crunched their way toward a clearing near the lake. The morning air was crisp and bright, the sky a perfect winter blue.
Sarah immediately got to work shaping a wall of snow, patting it down with gloved hands to pack it firm. Across from her, Travis was doing the same, except he was piling his snow absurdly high.
“Oh, come on,” she called. “That’s cheating.”
Travis grinned, tossing a handful of snow into the air. “It’s called engineering.”
Sarah huffed but kept working, knowing she’d make up for it when the battle began.
A few minutes later, their forts were built, and the first attack was launched—by Travis, of course. A well-aimed snowball hit Sarah square in the shoulder.
She gasped. “Oh, it’s on now!”
She retaliated with a quick throw, nailing him in the side. He laughed, ducking behind his fortress and scooping up more ammunition.
For the next ten minutes, they pelted each other with snow, dodging, ducking, and laughing so hard Sarah nearly fell over.
Finally, Travis held up his hands. “Truce?”
Sarah, catching her breath, considered. “Terms?”
“I get to come over to your fort without being ambushed.”
She pretended to think about it, then sighed. “Fine. But no funny business.”
Travis approached, brushing snow from his sleeves. He plopped down next to her, their backs resting against the snowy wall, their breath coming in white puffs.
“That was fun,” Sarah said after a moment, still catching her breath.
Travis chuckled. “Told you.”
A comfortable silence settled over them. Snowflakes floated gently from the sky, clinging to their hats and eyelashes. Sarah tilted her head back, watching them fall.
“I love this,” she admitted. “Being out here. The quiet. Just… this.”
Travis was quiet for a beat before he spoke. “Me too. Always have.”
She turned to look at him. “Is that why you never left the Midwest?”
He exhaled, watching his breath disappear into the cold air. “Part of it, yeah. I had offers from teams on the coast, bigger cities. But I always felt like I belonged here. Like I’d be giving up a piece of myself if I left.”
Sarah nodded. “I get that. This is so us.”
“How about you?” she asked softly. “You won your Stanley Cup. Now what?”
Travis hesitated. “I think… I think I’m starting to see hockey differently. It’s not just about winning anymore. It’s about who I win with. What kind of team we build.”
She studied him. “You’ve changed.”
He smiled slightly. “You think so?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I like it.”
Travis exhaled a laugh. “Well, so have you.”
She grinned. “Maybe we’re growing up.”
He smirked. “Speak for yourself.”
She laughed, shoving him lightly before standing. “Alright, snowman time.”
Their snowman-building efforts were… questionable at best.
Sarah tried to make a symmetrical structure, but Travis kept adding ridiculous features—a lopsided carrot nose, mismatched rock eyes, and a twig mustache.
“Are you *sure* you play sports professionally?” she teased. “Because your balance is terrible.”
He wiped his forehead dramatically. “Listen, snow-sculpting wasn’t part of my contract.”
They doubled over laughing, and when they finally stepped back, the snowman looked utterly ridiculous. No part of it was even round.
But somehow, it was perfect.
After taking a few pictures, they trudged out onto the frozen lake, visiting the scattered ice fishing huts that dotted the shoreline. Some were empty, but a few local fishermen waved them over, offering warm drinks and stories of “the one that got away.”
Travis and Sarah stood side by side, looking down at a hole cut into the thick ice, watching as the line disappeared into the dark water below.
“Have we ever caught anything ice fishing?” Travis asked.
Sarah shook her head. “No, but I kind of love how peaceful it is out here.”
Travis hummed in agreement. “Didn’t our parents say fishing was about patience? That sometimes the best things take time.”
Sarah glanced up at him. “They were smarter than we thought back then.”
Travis smiled softly. “Yeah. They really were.”
She reached for his gloved hand, giving it a squeeze. “I’ll miss your mom every single time we come here. She was always so proud of you.”
His grip tightened around hers, and when he looked at her, there was something vulnerable in his eyes. “You think so?”
“I know so,” she said firmly.
They stood like that for a moment, the frozen lake stretching endlessly around them, the quiet settling in like a blanket. Losing the Jenkins’ Mom had been hard on all of them, but she’d been at the wedding and had cheered on everything she could until the very end.
By the time they made their way back to the cabin, the sun was higher, the sky a brilliant blue. They peeled off their layers, the warmth of the fire wrapping around them as they curled up together on the couch.
Travis pulled a thick blanket over them, tucking her close.
Sarah let out a contented sigh, resting her head against his chest.
“Best snow day ever?” Travis murmured.
She smiled. “Easily. Even better than the last one when we were literally snowed in.”
He kissed the top of her head. “Good. Because we’ve got a lifetime of them ahead of us.”
Sarah closed her eyes, feeling the truth of his words wash over her. “I love you, Trav.”
“I love you too Sarah.”
THE END.