Epilogue - Wade
Five Years Later
“Where do you think you’re going?” I demand.
“Inside,” Ellie points at the door.
I scoop her up in my arms, carrying her honeymoon style. She laughs and pulls the key from the front pocket of my flannel. It doesn’t matter that it’s our four-year wedding anniversary. She’s not crossing the threshold tonight if she’s not in my arms.
Ellie kisses my neck and cheek, peppering me with her affection until I remind her she needs to put the key in the door. She manages to steal a real kiss first, kissing me like it’s our first time, our only time – the same way she does every time.
She lets us into the familiar cabin and sighs as she leans back in my arms, trusting me to hold her. I bounce her slightly and shut the door with my foot. I don’t set her down until we’re on the couch and she just wiggles closer to me.
“Remember when I was nervous to ask you to put sunscreen on me?” She teases.
“Remember when I got hard doing only that?” I answer.
“You still do,” she argues. “And you still get excited whenever I garden at home.”
“It’s me savoring the victory of pulling you from the city,” I chuckle.
She gasps and swats me, a playful spark in her eyes. We’ve made plenty of compromises over the years, but they always feel like victories when she’s involved. We choose the suburbs over the country or the city, finding a balance between our lives. She works for a private practice, while I’ve stepped beyond just swinging an axe on tree trunks. I’ve taken a more artistic route, carving chainsaw wood sculptures, and it’s paying off better than I expected.
“So, what’s the mad to happy ratio for the last 4 years?” I murmur, looking into her eyes with a playful challenge. Before she answers, I cover her mouth with my hand, a smile tugging at my lips. “Honestly, baby. Tell me if I can do better.”
“I haven’t been angry enough to count,” she sighs, nuzzling my neck. “I get too ... overjoyed whenever I call you my husband. It feels right. You and I – we’re passion, we’re happiness, we’re love and devotion. We’re everything in the fairytales I used to read and more.”
“We’re real, Ellie,” I promise.
I kiss her slowly, then deeper. I pull her tighter to me and lose myself in her love, her affection, the fact that she’s mine . Incandescent. That’s the word we’ve agreed on. We’re incandescently happy together and I hate thinking that it wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t come back, right here, for her father’s wedding.
A phone rings and Ellie draws back, laughing softly. “Now it really feels like five years ago. Dad pulling us apart.”
“He can try,” I tease. “But after dinner you will be all mine.”
She flashes that soft, heartwarming smile I never get tired of. “Hmm, I’m counting the minutes. But for now,” she says with a playful raise of her eyebrow, “we’ve got dinner with Dan and Clair.”
I chuckle, squeezing her hand. "Right, right. Can't keep them waiting too long."
She laughs softly, her fingers brushing mine as we stand from the couch. We head to the door, stepping out into the cool evening air. The cabin on Dan’s property might be a temporary escape for us, a few days of peace away from the hustle of life, but it still feels like a breath of fresh air. Here, where everything started, the walls are full of our memories, our beginnings and a lot of moments that shaped us.
I look over at Ellie as she adjusts her scarf, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Feels like home, doesn’t it?" I murmur.
She nods, her eyes meeting mine with that familiar warmth. "It does. I never want to forget how we started here."
I pull her closer, feeling that sense of completeness settle in my chest. No matter where we go, what we do, this place will always be a part of us. Our story, our foundation, it’s all here, just like the love we continue to build.
We step off the porch, hand in hand, ready to visit Dan and Clair, but knowing that no matter what the future holds, we’ve already found everything we need in each other.