Epilogue #2
Jude clears his throat. “If you talk to her again, tell her thank you from me for getting me out of my deposit on that rental house. I thought I was going to lose it for sure when I moved in with Liam instead.”
“I’ll tell her. She’s a good girl.” Mom picks up her wine again. “I hope she finds the right one, the way Liam did.”
I reach under the table and squeeze Jude’s knee.
He puts his hand over mine briefly, then goes back to eating.
It’s a small moment, but it matters. Kara wishing Jude a merry Christmas means she’s finding her way toward acceptance, and that eases a guilt I’ve been carrying since the night I broke her heart.
The conversation flows easily. Priya turns out to be a veterinarian who moved to the mountain last year.
That revelation leads to a ten-minute discussion about Duke’s dietary needs that Jude follows with intense focus.
Jack keeps interrupting their conversation, trying to impress Priya with increasingly dubious stories about his heroic firefighting exploits.
She playfully calls him out for his exaggerations, which makes everyone, including Jack, laugh.
During it all, Mom keeps trying to give Jude more food. She seems to have a compulsion to feed him anytime she’s around him.
He grimaces as she tries to put another slice of ham on his place. “Oh, I don’t think I should eat more.”
“That’s not a no,” she says, dropping another thick slice on his plate. “You should probably have more potatoes too.”
He looks at me helplessly and I just shrug. “You knew what you were getting into.”
“What?” he laughs incredulously. “I had no idea what I was getting into.”
“It’s just food,” Mom says. “It won’t kill you.”
Jude grimaces, rubbing his stomach. “It could literally kill me. My stomach is going to explode.”
She waves him off. “Be sure to leave room for pie.”
Jude gapes at her. “How will I have room for pie after all this food?”
After dinner, we migrate to the living room.
The fire is blazing and the tree lights cast a soft glow across the room.
Jack and Priya share the loveseat. Mom and Dad take their usual spots.
Jude and I settle onto the couch, and Duke jumps up and wedges himself between us before either of us can object.
“Duke, down,” Jude says without much conviction. Duke stays where he is. Jude strokes his ears, looking nervously at Mom. “You’re going to get us into trouble, boy.”
Mom smiles. “Oh, he can stay on the couch. Don’t worry about it, Jude. Poor baby needs a little pampering.”
“Are we still talking about Duke, or are we now talking about Jude?” Jack asks, grinning.
Everybody laughs.
Next, we exchange gifts. Mom knitted Jude a dark blue scarf and matching cap, which he puts on immediately despite being indoors. Dad gives him a pocketknife with an antler handle that he carved himself. Jude turns it over in his hands, running his thumb along the smooth bone.
“Thank you both for the gifts,” Jude says, his voice rough. “This means a lot.”
Dad and Mom exchange a knowing glance.
“You’re welcome, Jude,” Mom says warmly. “We feel like we have three sons now.”
Jude clears his throat. “I… wow… You’ve been so kind to me. I… I don’t know what to say.”
Mom smiles. “You don’t have to say anything. We’re so happy you’re in Liam’s life and that you’re a part of our life too.”
He nods, looking emotional and I put my arm around him and kiss the side of his head. I can tell he’s touched, but probably afraid he’ll embarrass himself if he tries to speak. However, despite remaining silent, it’s clear he’s happy.
Later, while Mom is getting pie and coffee ready, I step onto the back porch. The night is cold and clear, stars scattered thick above the tree line. My breath mists and the sounds of the house drift through the door behind me. Laughter. Mom telling Jack to not hog all the pumpkin pie.
Jude comes outside with two mugs of coffee. He passes me one and leans against the railing. Duke has followed him, naturally, and sits at his feet, nose lifted to the breeze.
“This was the best Christmas I’ve ever had,” Jude says quietly.
I rub his back. “I’m glad, although the bar is low.”
“True.” He smiles and sips his coffee.
“There will be many more wonderful holidays in your life, now.”
“Yeah.” Jude looks out at the dark pines. The claiming mark is just visible above his collar. “Last Thanksgiving, I stood on this porch feeling like an outsider. Do you remember our conversation out here?”
“Of course I remember.”
“You were talking about belonging and found family, and at the time, I was just so grateful that you were even in my life at all. That you actually seemed to give a shit about me even a little.” He laughs gruffly. “I kept waiting for it all to disappear and I’d be alone again.”
I hate hearing him say things like that. It hurts knowing how temporary he thought it all was. How temporary he thought he was. “I wasn’t going to let you go that easy.”
He winces. “You almost did though. After the kiss. You were more distant with me.”
“I was terrified of that kiss,” I admit. “It was hands down the hottest kiss I’d ever had in my life, but I was still in denial about being in love with Kara.”
“I know.”
I glance at him. “But I couldn’t let go of you. I hope you remember that too. It was your idea to move out, not mine. I didn’t want you to move out. I wanted to have you close, or I was always worried and restless all the time.”
He smiles. “I liked that you wanted me around.” He winces. “Poor Kara, sometimes I feel bad for her. She saw us falling in love and couldn’t stop it.”
“No,” I murmur. “Nothing could.”
He lays his head on my shoulder, and we stay like that for a moment.
“When I first got to Golden Peak, I never in a million years dreamed I’d be this happy.
I still remember the first night I arrived and we saw each other in the bar.
It was like that was the night I started living.
” He gives a short laugh. “I’m almost thirty and only then did I start my life. ”
“Same. That’s okay, we’ll start living our lives together now. The stuff that came before, that was just training crap.” I grin. “This is the real deal.”
“Sure feels like it.”
“Hey, when we get home, wanna go for a Christmas night run?” I ask.
“Absolutely.” He turns to me, and his blue eyes are bright in the porch light. He smiles, and it’s not the guarded, careful smile he had on Thanksgiving. This one is open and trusting.
I set my coffee on the railing, pull him close, and kiss him. He tastes like coffee and his mouth is warm and tender against mine. Duke nudges between our legs, annoyed at being excluded, and we break apart laughing.
“Duke, don’t cock block me.” Jude snorts. “That’s not cool.”
“Come on,” I say, taking his hand. “Mom will send a search party if we’re out here too long.”
We go back inside and are engulfed by the warmth of the home, family, and simply belonging. Jude sits beside me, arms and legs touching, and we smile at each other any time anyone says something funny. He’s my best friend. My lover. My forever mate.
I had a life before Jude came to Golden Peak, but nothing before he arrived feels real.
The first thirty years of my life feel like an old black-and-white movie, and I felt like a distracted extra.
Then Jude arrived in town, and the movie suddenly became vivid Technicolor, and Jude and I were the main characters.
Jude brought color to my life. Sometimes the color was painful and sometimes it was joyful. But I’ve come to depend on those colors being here. On Jude being here. Even when it’s too bright, too hot, too hard, I'll bathe myself in Jude's colors.