Epilogue
Lark
Six months later
The snow fell gently outside my window at Wilder & Wilder Law, blanketing Wintervale in pristine white.
From my desk, I could see children building snowmen in the town square, their laughter floating up even through the closed windows.
Six months ago, I couldn't have imagined this view, this life, becoming mine.
The day after the regatta disaster, Bailey and I had attended the board meeting virtually.
With the evidence she'd uncovered—digital trails linking Sloane and Andrew to both the information leak and an affair they'd been hiding—my name had been cleared almost immediately.
The firm not only fired them both but reported them to the bar association for ethics violations.
James Keller had called personally to offer me the partnership I'd once wanted more than anything.
"You're making a mistake," he'd said when I declined. "Chicago is where the real opportunities are."
"The firm offered me partnership to stay," I'd explained to Wade later that night, "but I negotiated something better—freedom."
And freedom it was. Bailey and Jacob's practice had exploded with new clients, more than they could handle alone. Their offer had come at the perfect moment—a chance to practice law with integrity, in a place that already felt like home.
A knock at my door pulled me from my thoughts. Wade stood there, snow dusting his dark hair, blue eyes bright with excitement.
"It's official," he announced, crossing to my desk and lifting me into a spinning hug. "The indoor swim facility is fully funded! Construction starts in spring."
I laughed as he set me down, his joy infectious. "The Summer Splash Festival publicity worked its magic?"
"That, and a certain blogger's series about how our 'fake relationship' became the real deal," he said, nodding toward the framed Wintervale Whispers article on my wall. Zoe's headline —From Publicity Stunt to True Love: Wade and Lark's Wintervale Romance —had become something of a local legend.
Even Vanessa, who'd moved to the D.C. area last month for a marketing director position, had sent a surprisingly sincere congratulations card. "You two make more sense than we ever did," she'd written. "Be happy."
"Don't forget our reservation," Wade reminded me, kissing my forehead. "Seven o'clock at Bellini's."
"Valentine's Day at the fancy Italian place? How could I forget?" I smiled. "I've been looking forward to it all week."
***
Hours later, dressed in a deep red dress that complemented the sapphire of my grandmother's ring, I sat across from Wade at a corner table overlooking the frozen lake. Candlelight danced across his features as he reached for my hand.
"Happy Valentine's Day Beautiful," he said softly.
"Our first," I replied, still marveling at how much had changed in half a year.
After dessert, Wade grew unexpectedly serious. "I want to show you something," he said, leading me to the restaurant's outdoor patio. Heat lamps kept the space warm despite the February chill.
The lake stretched before us, stars reflecting off its icy surface like scattered diamonds. Wade turned to me, his expression both nervous and determined.
"Six months ago, I was rebuilding a broken wedding arch, thinking everything worth having was slipping through my fingers," he said. "I never imagined that broken arch would lead to this moment."
My heart began to race as he reached into his pocket, then dropped to one knee on the snowy patio. In his hands was a small wooden box, intricately carved with patterns I recognized from the wedding arbor he'd repaired.
"You saved a piece," I whispered, touching the polished wood with trembling fingers.
"I rebuilt it into something new," he said, opening the box to reveal a sparkling diamond solitaire. "Just like you rebuilt me."
Tears blurred my vision as he continued.
"Lark Hayes, I've loved you since you stood on that lakeshore pretending not to watch me. Will you marry me?"
"Yes," I answered without hesitation, my voice breaking with emotion. "Yes, Wade Foster."
As he slipped the ring onto my finger next to my grandmother's sapphire, I felt her presence somehow—approving, understanding.
"My grandmother taught me to be strong alone," I said as Wade rose to his feet. "You taught me it's braver to be strong together."
He pulled me into his arms, his kiss warm despite the winter air. Above us, the last traces of sunset faded to stars, their light catching on the diamond now adorning my finger.
Wintervale had begun as my hiding place, my strategic retreat.
Now it was simply home—the place where I'd found not just Wade, but myself.
The future stretched before us, as vast and beautiful as the star-filled sky above the frozen lake, full of promise and possibility.
And I welcomed it all with the man I loved beside me.