Epilogue
MILLIE
The baby kicks, a fluttering punch against my ribs, and I rest a hand on the swell of my stomach, a silent hello.
Spring has finally decided to stay in Driftwood Cove. The sun streams through the big front window of the Cocoa Nook, catching the dust motes dancing in the air and turning the polished wood floors to gold.
The air smells of dark roast, cinnamon, and the sweet, clean scent of rain-washed earth from the garden outside. It’s perfect.
“Another one, babe?” Liam asks, his voice a low, teasing murmur right beside my ear.
He slides a plate onto the counter in front of me. On it sits a chocolate croissant, still warm from the oven, a little pool of melted chocolate oozing from one end. It’s my third, but who’s counting?
“You’re a bad influence,” I say, but I’m already breaking off a piece.
He just grins, that lazy, confident grin that still makes my stomach do a little flip. He leans against the counter, his arm brushing mine, a casual yet possessive touch that feels as natural as breathing. “Gotta keep our girl and our little croissant-addict happy.”
Across the room, Maddox is on a stepladder, his shirt stretched tight across his shoulders as he tightens a screw on one of the new floating shelves. The shelves were his idea, a way to store extra bags of beans and boxes of tea without cluttering the small space.
He’s always thinking, always planning, making our world run more smoothly. He catches me watching him and winks, a quick, private gesture that sends a warm wave of affection through me.
The bell over the door jingles, and I look up to see Knox and Clara walking in. Clara, now sixteen and all legs and attitude, has her headphones around her neck, but she’s not hiding behind them anymore. She makes a beeline for me.
“Hey, M,” she says, using the nickname she’s given me.
“Hey, you,” I say, smiling as she leans in to give me a one-armed hug, careful of my stomach. “How was school?”
“Boring,” she says, rolling her eyes. “But I aced my history test. Dad said he’d buy me pizza to celebrate.”
“Did he now?” I glance over at Knox, who’s talking to Liam’s mom, Maren, by the espresso machine. He catches my eye, and a small smile touches his lips. He looks different here, softer. The hard lines of the sheriff’s face ease away, replaced by the contentment of a man surrounded by his pack.
Maren laughs at something Knox says, her head thrown back. She looks happy. Truly happy. The dark circles that lived under her eyes for so long are gone, replaced by a healthy glow. The café is bustling, the air filled with the low hum of conversation and the clink of ceramic.
We are whole. We are not the fragmented, scared people we were a few months ago, huddled in a hospital waiting room or facing down a monster from the past. We rebuilt. Together.
The bell jingles again, and I glance up, expecting another familiar face, another resident of Driftwood Cove stopping by for their morning fix. But it’s not.
The woman standing in the doorway is wearing a tailored black pantsuit, her hair cut into a sharp, stylish bob.
She carries a leather briefcase, and her heels click on the wooden floor with a sound that doesn’t belong here.
For a second, I don’t recognize her. She looks like she’s stepped out of a different world, a world of skyscrapers and courtrooms.
Then she turns.
My breath catches.
“Thalia,” I say, the name leaving me in a rush of surprise and relief.
My sister.
She looks around, taking it in. Me behind the counter, visibly pregnant. Liam at my side. Maddox frozen halfway down the ladder. Knox with a protective hand on Clara’s shoulder. Her expression softens, tension easing just a fraction.
“I know I was supposed to come with mom for the baby shower,” she says, already apologetic. “But I had a few days open and thought… I wanted to see you. In person.”
The knot in my chest loosens.
We talk. We text. We FaceTime when work doesn’t swallow her whole. It hasn’t always been easy, but it’s better than what we used to be.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I say, stepping around the counter.
Liam is already moving, grabbing a glass of water. Maren crosses the room with the same instinctive kindness she gives everyone, guiding Thalia toward the back booth.
I follow as fast as my body allows, which means waddling. Maddox slips his hand into mine without comment, steady and solid.
“You okay?” he asks quietly.
I nod. And I mean it. “Yeah. I am.”
Thalia watches us approach, her gaze flicking between my hand in Maddox’s, Liam hovering nearby, the life layered so openly around me. When I slide into the booth across from her, she lets out a breath that sounds like she’s been holding it for years.
“You look… happy,” she says.
“I am,” I tell her.
Her eyes shine, and she reaches across the table, squeezing my fingers. “I know. I just wanted to see it with my own eyes.”
“Is everything okay?” I love that she’s here, but last time we talked, she seemed to be pretty stressed out about this huge case that she was handling.
She hadn’t mentioned anything about having days off, and now that she’s this close to me, I can swear she has faint tear tracks down her cheeks.
Something’s not right.
She nods. This time her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “I’ll tell you about it later.”
“Okay.”
The baby shifts again, a gentle reminder of everything still to come. Liam is talking to Maddox about bolting something to the ceiling.
My family’s sounds fills the room.
My sister sits across from me, nervous, but here. Whatever is bothering her, she has me. She has all of us.
As long as we keep choosing each other, this holds.
And it will.
THE END.