12. Epilogue
Bella
One year later
The living room is quiet except for the soft suck-suck of the bottle in baby Noah’s tiny hands and the muted hum of the Oscars on the TV.
Scout is curled up at my feet, snoring gently, while I rock back and forth on the couch, arms wrapped around my son. He’s warm, milk-drunk, and perfectly content in his footie pajamas.
I can’t believe this is my life.
My rescue has been moved to Wylie’s estate. Our estate. And I have more than enough money for everything the dogs could want or need.
And I’m a mother now. A dream come true that still doesn’t feel real at times.
And I’m married to the most amazing man in the universe.
On screen, the announcer says, “And the Oscar for Leading Actor in a Dramatic Film goes to… Wylie Cole, for The Quiet Hollow.”
The audience erupts in applause. Wylie rises from his seat, looking dashing in a black tuxedo, stubble trimmed just enough to keep him from looking too polished. He looks surprised, but he shouldn’t. He gave the performance of his life in that movie.
He walks up to the stage, accepting the golden statue with a humble smile and a quiet “Wow.” Then he steps to the mic.
“Thank you,” he begins, voice low, a little rough. “This means the world. Truly. To my director, to the cast, to my agent who threatened to stage a mutiny if I didn’t do this role…”
The audience laughs.
“But most of all,” he says, his eyes lifting, finding the camera— finding me . “To Bella. My wife. The love of my life. The one who reminds me every day that the quiet moments matter just as much as the big ones. You and our son—” he smiles, a soft, private smile “—are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
I press a kiss to our son’s head as tears spill down my cheeks. Happy ones.
Scout lifts his head, stretches, and drops it back onto my foot with a sigh.
“I love you,” Wylie says, still looking straight into the camera. “I’ll be home soon.”
“And I’ll be waiting for you,” I whisper. “Always.”