Epilogue
Bella
Tuscany, One Month Later
The alley was narrow and the restaurant had exactly three wobbly tables crammed under a vine-choked awning. The menu was scrawled on a chalkboard in Italian so faded it might as well have been hieroglyphics, and the chairs creaked like they were auditioning for a horror movie.
No reservations.
No waitstaff in starched uniforms.
Just a grizzled owner who grinned and smacked Drew on the back and said something neither of us understood, but we hoped meant he liked us. We’d chosen an adventure to jumpstart our life together. No coins, no mazes, no family feuds breathing down our necks. Just us.
And freedom.
Drew leaned back in his chair, beaming like he’d conquered the world as he mangled another phrase from his phone’s translation app. “Vorrei . . . uh . . . il vino rosso? Per favore?”
The waiter clapped his hands in approval and I chuckled. Drew’s accent was horrible, but perfection wasn’t our goal. This was about enjoying each other as we were and, odd as it might sound, the less perfect we were, the more beautiful our love felt.
Drew turned to me triumphantly. “A few minutes on an app and I’m basically fluent.”
I arched a brow, fighting a smile. “I’m holding my applause until I see what he comes back with.”
Drew laughed—that low, resonant sound that still made my pulse stutter, even after weeks of waking up tangled in him. “As long as it’s not our family.”
I swatted his arm, but I was laughing too. “Thanks, now I just imagined the waiter returning with both of our fathers.”
Reaching across the table, Drew laced his fingers with mine automatically, his thumb brushing my engagement ring. It caught the lantern light, simple and fiery, a reminder that we’d chosen this. No contingencies. No strategies. Just yes.
The waiter returned with a bottle of wine that looked older than both our families combined but lacked a label, pouring two glasses without ceremony. Drew raised his. “To us. And to whatever this wine is . . .”
I clinked my glass against his, then took a sip, the wine rich and warm on my tongue. “To us and to wherever this trip takes us.”
We ate in comfortable quiet for a while, the food surprisingly perfect—pasta ladened with fresh herbs, bread that tasted like sunshine.
No one recognized us. No phones buzzed with crises.
We laughed about how finding this place had involved navigating a loose herd of goats and how we still didn’t have a room booked for the night.
Until Drew, not knowing what was coming next would have ruined my ability to enjoy myself.
Planning and being in control at all times had been how I’d made myself feel safe.
If I never made a mistake, stayed ahead of the game, solved everyone else’s problems .
. . maybe, just maybe, I’d be good enough.
I didn’t need to do any of that with Drew.
He loved this me. Not just the perfect me.
Not me only when things went well. And when he said, “I got you,” he meant it.
For the first time in my life, I knew if I stumbled, there was someone there who would catch me, right me, hold me close, and reassure me that everything would be okay.
I no longer considered it a weakness to need that.
As the sky darkened and stars pricked through the vines overhead, Drew’s foot nudged mine under the table. “You okay?” he murmured, his voice softer now.
I nodded, but my chest tightened with that familiar swell—the one that came from realizing this was real. “Better than okay.” I set my glass down, meeting his gaze. “I can’t imagine my life without you. Part of me wishes we’d figured this out earlier, but I wasn’t ready for you then.”
He raised my hand to his lips and kissed my fingers gently. “I know what you mean.”
Searching his face, I did something that was new to me, I let my emotions gush out. “I’m not surprised you knew my favorite candy. Back in Firebrook Valley, I was always aware of you. And, looking back, comparing the men I came across to you.”
His eyes twinkled. “Completely understandable. I’m pretty awesome.”
I laughed and batted at him. “I’m being serious. Shut up and listen.”
That had him smiling even more and leaning in. “Sorry, go on.”
I swallowed, my voice dropping to a whisper. “It was not you, but it was also always you. Does that make sense?”
He leaned across the table, his hand cupping my cheek. “More than I know how to express.” His lips brushed mine, slow and certain. I kissed him back, the world reducing down to this us—happy, messy, real.
When we paused, I rested my forehead against his, a worry I’d been carrying finally bubbling up. “Do you feel guilty?” I asked quietly. “Being this happy? Stepping away like this?”
Drew held my gaze as he caressed my cheek.
“I have moments when I do, but we’re one phone call away,” he said gently, then gestured vaguely at the stars, the empty plates, the quiet alley.
“This is our reset. A little time away to figure out who we are without the feud hanging over us. Without the constant pressure. I’ve never let myself have that, Bella.
And we deserve this time to choose each other.
For me, it’s like putting on an oxygen mask before you help the person beside you with theirs. We need this.”
His words settled over me like warm light.
No anger. Just truth, wrapped in the certainty that this wasn’t avoidance—it was as necessary as oxygen.
We wouldn’t be in Italy forever, and neither of us knew what we’d return home to, but somehow it would all work out because we’d given ourselves the gift of time together.
We didn’t have all the answers, but we had wine, good food, and each other.
Then the restaurant owner came by our table and told us if we didn’t have a place to stay that night, his family had a guest house.
Nothing fancy, but he said his mother made the best homemade crostata and described it as apricot jam in a buttery crust, still warm from the oven and that we’d be welcome at their table in the morning. We said yes.
Yes to him.
Yes to breakfast.
Yes to choosing each other first and trusting everything else to fall into place.
The End
Continue Reading with Not Him (Firebrook Valley Book 2)