Epilogue
One Year Later
CASSIAN
“Idid it!”
The glass jar spun from the motion of being teleported across my desk. It was silly to believe I could have done this without Gertrude’s guidance before, but I had finally teleported the empty jar across the desk and back without shattering it.
The office door creaked open, and Sterling stuck his head through. “You all right in here?”
“Look!” I pointed at the glass jar and stepped back so he could see.
“You did it!” Sterling swung the door open and stepped into the office, grinning at me. It was a much better reward than an unbroken jar. “I knew you could.”
An ugly laugh slipped out of me, and I folded my arms behind my back and shrugged my shoulders to get some of this giddy tension out of me. After a year of living together, he still flustered me daily. “How’s it going out there? Any problems?”
“Mr. Mimster lost his key again, but I told him we’d find it,” Sterling said.
“He didn’t pay extra, did he?” I asked.
“He tried.”
I beamed at him. “Thanks for taking care of him.”
We had moved back to the donation box system since it was still as profitable and it aligned more with our values. We both wanted to always have a room open in case someone had nowhere else to go. Our regulars often paid more than the flat rate we had charged before, so it evened out.
“Of course,” Sterling said.
I sighed, admiring Sterling. He fit into my life so well, and I loved sharing it with him. “I like you.”
“Not as much as I like you,” he said, stepping toward me to pull me into his arms. He kissed me softly.
I held him around the neck and kissed him back until his kisses moved to my jaw, and then my neck. He pulled my collar aside to kiss down my chest, but I giggled and pushed him away. “Sterling! Not in the middle of the workday!”
“Sorry. I just love making you blush,” Sterling said with a wink.
“You made me blush plenty last night,” I said.
He sucked air in through his teeth, pressing his face to the side of my neck as he said, “And I’m gonna do it again tonight.”
I let out another low giggle and considered whether we had time for a quick break, but I had set that boundary for a reason.
Things were awkward between us and the rest of the staff when Sterling first moved in, because we were often so distracted by each other that we kept customers waiting.
It was a messy period, but we figured it out.
I dragged him out of the office before I made a poor decision and sat with him at the counter. Something that I considered boring before was now fun because Sterling was there too.
After a few minutes of nothing, the door opened and Olive’s son, Jack, entered the room.
He was seventeen years old, and he had been working here since the day after Olive suggested I hire him.
She was right; he was a good, hard worker.
His employment here, along with the 5,000 gold from my grandfather’s will, helped Olive and her family get back on their feet, and they were doing better than ever.
Jack was not alone. He was holding the hand of a muddy young boy with dark hair and tear-stained cheeks.
“Hey, Mr. Fibbersnap, hey Sterling,” Jack said, approaching the counter slowly with the child.
“Uh, hey Jack,” I said, peering over the counter, already coming around to investigate. “Who’s this?”
Jack looked up with fearful, confused eyes. “I found him in the stable. He says his name is Owen.”
Sterling and I exchanged a worried look, and then Sterling disappeared into the office. I turned to the young boy again, crouching to his level.
“Hey, Owen,” I said gently, smiling at him. “What were you doing in the stable, buddy?”
“I-I-I—” Owen blubbered through a round of sobs. “I’m sorry,” he cried.
Sterling emerged with a towel, wrapping it around the boy’s shoulders to keep him dry and warm. “You don’t need to be sorry, kiddo,” Sterling said, also kneeling at Owen’s level. He nodded at Jack, and Jack hesitantly backed away to get back to work. “Where are your parents?”
“They-they l-left me h-here,” Owen cried, rubbing his eyes with a chubby fist.
Sterling shut his eyes, hanging his head, and I rested my hand on his shoulder. “Why’d they do that? Are they coming back?” I asked.
“I don’t th-think so,” Owen said. He cried while Sterling patted his back, and I wondered how anyone could do this to a child. To either of them.
“Don’t worry, Owen. We’re going to take care of you,” Sterling said, glancing at me. “Right?”
“Of course. You’re safe with us,” I said.
Owen sniffled, and then he clung to Sterling with his little arms, tears sliding down his cheeks.
Sterling appeared surprised by the sudden embrace, but he didn’t hesitate to hug him back.
I hadn’t known Sterling as a child, but Owen looked similar to how I imagined Sterling looked, and watching them embrace was like seeing Sterling give his younger self a hug at the most vulnerable moment of his life.
I loved Sterling like crazy, and he was the only person up to that point I truly would have done absolutely anything for, but at that moment, seeing Owen as the little boy Sterling once was, I added him to that short list too. He was part of our family now.