Epilogue
Lizzie
O ne year later
Was all of this a dream?
I had to wonder, considering how much had happened in a relatively short period of time.
James and I had been officially living together since the previous summer, practically the second after my last friend departed Dearie Girls weekend. It had been blissful—and a test in patience at times—but perfectly imperfect.
Mariah—now newly-divorced, with Norah in tow—had become a permanent resident of Dearing Creek as well after purchasing a home on the other side of the lake. Ethan was a frequent visitor as well, and I suspected it wouldn’t take long before he joined us.
GiGi was her usual feisty self, now on an exercise and dietary regimen that only amplified that side of her. But having her grandson next door seemed to be the one change she embraced whole-heartedly.
Amongst our friends, relationships started and ended; babies were born, jobs changed. There were moments of loss and celebrations.
But those were stories for another time. Because at that moment, there was clearly one story in particular that required my attention.
“Lizzie, the line is now snaking all the way around the building. I’m going to tell them that the cutoff has to be nine o’clock.” Elinor, my agent, had been practically bouncing off the walls of Lake Elska Community Library ever since the doors for my evening book signing had opened an hour ago.
Not that I could blame her. Despite doing my best to maintain my composure, inside, I was a ball of anxious energy.
I had, after all, been waiting for this day my entire life. My very first book signing, for the self-published book I’d poured my heart, soul and thirty-one years of living into.
There were many days I thought I’d never achieve my dream of becoming a published author, much less writing the types of books I cared about.
But as it turned out, sometimes believing with your whole heart can do magical things.
USA Today best-selling author.
Wall Street Journal best-selling author.
New York-freaking-Times best-selling author.
Words I never thought I’d see attached to the name ‘Elizabeth Blake’ were suddenly plastered on the cover of my book, blasting across my social media pages, on blogs and podcasts. What started as a boost during my book launch by a few well-chosen book bloggers ended up quickly gaining momentum with an obscene amount of sales for a debut romance author. And it didn’t take long to catch the attention of a number of publishing houses as well.
Suddenly, I had both an agent—the amazing Elinor Wright—and a contract with my dream publishing house, Blossom Press. With their help, sales of my novel had continued to skyrocket, and a month later, Elinor was fielding non-stop requests for interviews and book signings from all over the country.
But there was never a question of where I wanted my very first book signing to take place. It always had to be the newly-opened public library, built by the man I loved to honor his mother and the community that took him in many years ago. Seeing him accomplish his dreams made me more proud of James than I could have possibly imagined.
Though, unfortunately, the setting I chose did nothing to settle my nerves—the anxious introvert, now forcing herself to be very extrovert-y for the sake of her book.
I’d been at it for an hour already, chatting with locals and signing books for readers who’d driven hundreds of miles to come here and meet me.
Me. Lizzie Blake. It still didn’t feel real. And neither did my writing hand, which was currently going numb. But I had to make it another two hours. I couldn’t disappoint anyone.
Taking a sip of water, I turned to Elinor. “Don’t turn anyone away, ok? I can do this.”
She smiled at me, shaking her head. “Alright, you’re the boss.” Then she hustled away, disappearing into the crowd. The next woman in line approached the table—middle-aged, looking anxious as she clutched my book in both hands.
I smiled at her. “Hi there. So glad you could make it.”
The woman set her book on the table, her face brightening. “Thanks. I wouldn’t have missed it. I’d love it if you could sign my copy, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course, happy to. Who should I sign it to?” As I opened the front cover, I heard her speak again.
“Delores Walton, please… and… do you mind if I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“Great! First of all, I loved your book. But at the end, things felt sort of… unfinished for Grace and Marcus. I mean, did they ever get married?”
Looking up again to hand her the book, I bit back a grin. It was a question I’d been asked countless times, so I already had my answer prepared. “Well, that was sort of my intention with the ending. Grace was finally confident in who she is and happy with her life, and with Marcus. She didn’t need for him to rush off to put a ring on it in order to feel secure in their relationship. She already knew he loved her.”
“Are you sure about that?”
But the question wasn’t coming from Delores. James stepped out from behind her, a copy of my book tucked under his arm.
I grinned at him. “Yes, sir. I’m quite sure.”
He cocked his head. “So what you’re saying is Grace isn’t looking to get married.”
I crossed my arms. “No, I didn’t say that…” I noticed that the steady hum of conversation amongst the throngs of people filling the library had started to diminish. I was now becoming more aware of the many ears now listening to our conversation.
“So if Marcus had proposed to her at the end of the story, she’d have been happy about it?”
“Well, yes… but that’s not exactly the point…”
“Maybe it should be.” James’ eyes twinkled as he took in my narrowed eyes, knowing he was driving me crazy. Part of me wanted to kiss him, and the other part wanted to yank that book from his hand and swat him with it.
“Do you want me to sign your book or not?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” With a flourish, James held the book out in front of him and I grabbed it, whipping open the cover to write some sassy comment inside.
Of course, that was my intention, before I saw the gorgeous, emerald-cut diamond staring at me from the ring box hidden inside.
Eyes wide, I looked up to see him smiling at me—though this time, I could tell he was running on a similar nervous energy.
“Ever since the day you ran into me with that door and flung tampons at my head—”
“—I did not do that…” My face now completely ablaze, I could hear giggles coming from the women towards the front of the line.
“—agree to disagree, my love,” James said with a grin as he continued. “Anyway… after that day, something changed in me. At first, I thought it was simply about starting fresh and healing from the past. But I quickly realized what I ran into that day was hope . Hope for what my life could be, if I’d only just open up my heart to it.”
“James…”
Ever so slightly, he shook his head. “I spent decades of my life running on fear and resentment. It took nearly losing everything for me to realize I didn’t want to live that way anymore. To realize I deserved more. You’re the one who helped me to see it, Lizzie. You’re the one who taught me to trust another with my heart again, to believe that I was worthy of happiness. And that I didn’t have to be afraid anymore. Because I wasn’t alone. You were by my side.”
I wasn’t even bothering to stop the tears now. “Seriously, James…”
He held up a hand. “Not yet. Because you need to hear how you’ve made everything in my life better, made me want to be better, just by being you . Beautiful, kind, dorky you . I need you to know how your laughter fills my soul, how you overwhelm me with your capacity for empathy and love, how you amaze me with your incredible talent and terrible kayaking skills…”
There was more laughter now, but as I glanced around, I could see a few of the women were wiping their eyes. Was this actually happening?
“More than anything, I love that we are both building our life together, every messy and beautiful part of it. I don’t care what came before, nor do I need to know what comes next. And all I need is you. Well, and an answer to my question.” He reached forward to pull the ring from the box, which I realized I was still holding in front of me, completely caught up in the moment. Setting it down, he slid the ring onto my finger. A finger, I realized, was not tingly and numb with anxiety. Because, with James, all I felt was him . “Lizzie Blake, will you marry me?”
“Yes, you idiot. Of course I’ll marry you.” And as the room erupted into cheers, he came around the table, pulling me into his arms, one eyebrow raised as he held back a smile.
“Are those the best words you have in your arsenal after a proposal like that? Seriously, woman, I thought you were supposed to be the writer.”
Grinning, I cocked my head to the side. “Oh, I am. I just thought you’d appreciate me skipping ahead to the best part.”
“Touché.” And with a wicked smile, James leaned in and kissed me, like he did all the other times—with his whole heart. But underneath it all, I could hear the unspoken promise of forever.
I said a silent prayer of thanks to my grandmother, who knew from the start what we’d need most to carry us through life— love . True, unconditional, intentional, and steadfast love. The kind that not only lifts you up and carries you away but holds you together when everything else is falling apart.
And thanks to the man in front of me, I now knew she’d been right all along.
THE END