Epilogue 2
[Trinity]
September
Hammering out details on how Dart could train Ryder did not take us long. With my three-day work schedule, Dart had other days to mentor Ryder.
We made an effort not to be like cars in passing lanes.
If Dart had a race to watch, we went together.
I promised not to rush off from the track ever again.
He promised he’d always come home to me.
Ryder Wesley turned out to have great potential. That’s all we can ever strive for. Potential to do our best. Use our talents and skills. Find something we love to do. And love those around us.
Dart and I still have days where I get in my head, and he struggles with his purpose, but we work through those times together.
In the hard times and the easy, as our vows once said.
Fall is definitely in the air as I stand on the back deck. The September sun is still warm, but the nights are cool. Autumn is almost here. I can smell a change in the air when a sharp yowl catches my attention.
I step off the deck, down into the yard, and glance toward the lattice that decorates the base of the deck.
Bright yellow eyes belonging to one orange tabby stare back at me.
“Oliver.” I smile widely. “Where have you been?”
Assuming all Dart’s construction projects scared the cat away, I haven’t seen him for months. Not since the day before the night I assumed he was mewling at my back door, and it turned out to be a baby instead.
I make soft tsking noises, hoping to lure him forward, but he scurries deeper beneath the deck. Thinking I’ll bring him some milk to tempt him from the darkness, I re-enter the house and hear the sweetest giggles.
Distracted by the sound, I weave through the kitchen and dining room, finding Dart on the floor in front of the couch. He leans into Mirabelle’s belly, growling softly against her solid tummy, and she giggles. The sound is tinkly and bright like sunlight dancing through a window.
A prism of light even glows against the walls like a work of art.
“What’s going on in here?” I grin, lowering down beside them.
“Mirabelle and I were just chatting.”
“Oh, you were, were you?” Skepticism fills my voice about the ability of a six-month-old to speak. “And what were you discussing?”
“Well, first I was trying to get her to say Dada.”
Ever since Dart learned that one of the first sounds a baby makes is often da, he’s been encouraging Mirabelle to call him a name he longs to hear.
“Okay, Dada,” I tease. “Give it a rest.”
“She’s gonna be so smart, like her Momma.”
When he calls me that, I soften. Then I notice the prism of light again and catch on a yellow ribbon Dart dangles over Mirabelle. Her little hands reach up for the object, but she doesn’t have the skill yet to catch what he’s holding. Not to mention, he keeps tugging it out of her grasp.
“What’s that?” My throat thickens as I narrow in on the object looped through the ribbon.
Dart slowly sits upright, bending one knee upward and holding up the ribbon. I watch the object dangling from it, mesmerized like Mirabelle had been.
“That’s the other thing we were discussing.”
I swallow hard as my eyes cloud.
“I was asking Mirabelle if I could ask her Momma to marry me.”
Dart reaches for my hand and sets a kiss over my vacant ring finger. “I thought we could renew our vows or something.”
I chuckle through the thickness in my throat and blink away the foggy tears. “Dart Rivers, is there a question in there?”
He scoots closer to me and winds the ribbon tighter around his fingers to give me a better view of a gorgeous diamond ring.
One that’s different from the first one he gave me. A little bigger and square cut on a silver band.
“Trinity Rivers. Will you marry me? Again.” He lifts my hand and stamps the inside of my wrist with a kiss. “Make new promises with me, to love each other. Forever.”
“Forever,” I whisper.
He arches one brow. “Is that a yes?”
“That’s a hell yes, I’ll be your wife again.”
And I know the perfect place to renew our vows.
A riverside ceremony symbolizing how life moves on. You never stand in the same water twice, just like Dart and I are not the same people we were three years ago. Or in our twenties.
But one thing remains constant.
We’re stronger together.
And with Mirabelle in the mix, we are whole.
A family.
Full of promise.
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Thank you for taking the time to read PROMISE.