Epilogue
It took six months to finish editing my book and get it picked up by a publisher.
After that, it was a whirlwind of promotion photo shoots and then book signings and meet and greets.
Troublemaker's Ballad drew so much interest before it was even released that events were sold out as soon as they went live.
We took a break in the fall to visit the rest of the Seven Wonders.
We picked apples and pumpkins on the farm and bought a bag of fresh corn and peas for the ducks on the trail.
Callie hid a bag of treats in her pocket for our trip to the dog park, of course.
We ran into Brendan’s wife and her gigantic moose of a dog there, both of whom Callie was instant best friends with.
Well, his soon-to-be ex-wife, anyway. She started painting again, and she looked happier than ever. Good for her.
It was warm enough to eat on the patio, so we stopped at the Mexican restaurant on the way to visit Callie’s cow friends. They were closed to the public, but they were willing to make an exception for their new hometown celebrity. We skipped the gazebo and opted for an encore at Strikers.
Almost a year later, we're holed up in a cabin in the mountains while I work on the sequel. As soon as Callie was officially free, I asked her what she wanted to do with the rest of her life. “Live it,” she said. So, as soon as it was time to start writing again, we hopped on a plane and haven’t stopped moving, exploring, and experiencing the world since.
I wasn't sure what would happen when Callie lost her powers, so I wrapped the story up nicely but also left it open for more. I'm working on the final chapter when she sets a cup of coffee in front of me, wrapping her hands around my shoulders and burying her face in my back.
"How much more?" she asks, nodding her head towards the open laptop in front of me.
"Another thousand words or so, I think. A few hours," I estimate, taking a sip of coffee.
"Would a break help? Or are you hyperfixated?" I check my watch, surprised to find that I've been writing since breakfast, which was four hours ago, without so much as a blink break.
This is how she helps me now. Of course, she still inspires and analyzes everything I write, but she also keeps me from burning myself out.
It's funny that she spent hundreds of years as an immortal being, and now she's the one who reminds me that I'm basically a houseplant with a nervous system and need to do things like drink water and stretch and touch grass.
She's dealing with losing her magic much better than I thought she would.
Much better than I would have for sure. She still catches herself trying to use it sometimes, and what used to cause tears now makes her laugh.
Occasionally, I'll find her deep in thought, her brain working overtime to force her into a spiral of inadequacy.
I remind her regularly that she's equally amazing with and without powers.
Sometimes it's enough to stop the spiral, sometimes not. It gets better every day, though.
She still wakes up gasping, clawing at her once-broken neck sometimes. One day I'll find a way to make Apollo pay for that.
For now, I'm just happy that she's free, and she's mine, and I'm hers.
It's also nice to know that my ability to write wasn't solely due to her muse influence.
Sure, it made everything happen a little faster, but my publisher has the first half of the book already and they're saying it's even better than the first. If they're right and this blows up like the first one did, I've got a whole series plotted out and ready to be written.
I consider her question, debating whether I want to risk losing momentum. Her raised eyebrow makes the decision for me.
"You know what? Yeah, let's go lay by the fire." She bounces on her feet with a giant grin, and I suddenly couldn't give a fuck less about the book. I take her outstretched hand, and she leads me out the back door to the giant hammock in front of the fire.
With my body wrapped around hers, the heat from the fire warming us and the sounds of the forest filtering in through crisp autumn leaves, it's not long before we both doze off.
This is it. This right here is Heaven, or Elysium, Nirvana, Valhalla, or whatever brand of paradise you subscribe to. This is my paradise, and I'll savor every moment until I step into the next life with her hand firmly clasped in mine forever.