Epilogue
One year later...
“Please tell me there are potatoes,” Sofia demands. “I NEED potatoes.”
I hide a smile. Pregnancy cravings have hit her hard, and we’re all orbiting her like it’s our new normal.
She pats her adorable little bump. “This little one wants her potatoes every which way,” she declares. “Floating in cream in a potato bake, fried to within an inch of their lives, baked and smothered in butter. What else?” she asks, almost pleading. “There has to be another way I can eat them.”
“We can grate them and fry them into potato pancakes,” Tess suggests.
Sofia’s eyes light up. She looks ready to drop to the floor and worship at Tess’s feet. “Oh, that sounds heavenly. Why didn’t I think of that?”
She turns to Matt with a determined glint in her eyes, but Matt is already moving.
“On it,” he says, kissing her briefly and heading for the kitchen.
“Thank you,” Sofia murmurs, her smile soft and content.
“I’ll help,” Tess adds, trailing after him.
“I’m just relieved it’s not pickles she craves,” Matt says over his shoulder to Tess. “I hate pickles.”
Fortunately, we all love potatoes.
Sofia’s pregnancy was the wake-up call Matt needed. He quit his high-pressure job, took a less demanding role, and now late means lingering at the table, not the office. They’re falling in love all over again, and it’s beautiful to watch.
All the people I love are here at Gideon and Kate’s.
It’s the one place big enough to hold us all, and they opened their doors without a second thought.
There’s no formal occasion behind it, just a Saturday get-together to celebrate what matters, another year of friendship, another year of being here.
Happiness tumbles through me. This is what I dreamed of—my family and friends together, laughing, plates of snacks circulating, glasses refilling, music low, little pockets of conversation happening in every corner.
In the kitchen, Mom is shoulder to shoulder with Matt and Tess, making her famous creamed leeks. She insists we need something besides potatoes, and I can’t argue. The sound of her laughter as she cooks with them makes my heart squeeze.
Gideon and Kate are on the back deck, holding hands while they watch Lisset toss a ball for Uno.
The greyhound simply stares at it, then her, his head cocked, as if to say, What exactly are we doing here ?
In the next instant, Turbo launches off the deck, charges onto the grass, and tears after the ball.
That was all Uno needed. The greyhound bolts playfully after Turbo and the yard erupts into a blur of motion.
Gideon, Kate, and Lisset burst into laughter, and it’s the sweetest sound.
I watch the three of them and my throat feels awfully tight.
I love this little family and the life they’ve built.
Gideon can’t keep his hands off Kate. A palm resting on her knee, a gentle touch at the small of her back, that quiet, steady look he saves just for her.
They are easy together, sure of each other.
I’m so glad I get to stand here and see it.
Aaron is talking with Joel and my dad in the dining room, no doubt about security, a subject close to all their hearts.
I watch as Aaron glances over at Tess in the kitchen, sending a playful wink her way, along with a look that promises all sorts of rewards later.
Tess’s cheeks turn a cute shade of pink.
She mouths I love you , and an answering smile softens Aaron’s lips.
I’m sitting at the kitchen counter tearing up lettuce for a Caesar salad.
I keep sneaking surreptitious glances in Joel’s direction.
Although he’s quieter and more watchful than Gideon, Aaron, or Matt, he’s learning to lower his guard, letting more of the man I know step forward. It’s a joy to witness.
What surprises me most is the bond he’s formed with Gideon.
Sometimes I catch a look passing between them, a look that hints at something unspoken and deep, the kind of understanding forged in hard places.
I have my suspicions, and maybe I’ll never know the whole of it.
That’s all right. It’s enough to see Joel building friendships that go beyond the surface, that are steady and real.
Tess, Kate, and Sofia have folded Joel into the center of us like he was always meant to be there.
On game nights, he’s in the thick of it, heckling plot holes and losing at Pictionary with a grin.
The group chat is full of inside jokes he now starts and his name is on the takeout order without anyone asking.
They’re showing him that family isn’t only biology; it’s the people who stay and love you well.
Blood may start a family, but love is what keeps it.
Joel’s eyes find mine, and the love there is unmistakable. He looks at me like nothing else exists. He looks at me as if to reassure himself his worst nightmare didn’t come true.
The scars will take time to fade for us. But every time Joel laughs, another shutter inside me opens. One day, even the room Eddie kept me in will lose its darkness.
I heard Roy Bellings died in prison, knifed by another inmate. We won’t have to worry about him ever again. Evidence from Eddie’s phone led police to close two other cold cases of women he had murdered.
I remember only snippets of a hazy conversation in the hospital. Painkillers had me slipping in and out of consciousness, while Gideon, Aaron, and Joel spoke in low murmurs. It feels dreamlike now. I never asked Joel for details. Some things, I think, I’d rather not know.
I still have nightmares and flashbacks. When they hit, Joel is there.
He holds me for as long as I need it, murmuring to me in a low, soothing voice.
He tells me what he imagines our children will look like.
He lists the places he wants to take me.
I don’t always hold on to the details, but I hold on to the feeling.
His words sketch a future that’s beautiful and bright and ours.
Joel still goes to therapy. At my mom’s urging, I’ve started with a trauma therapist too, to help me face those hours with Eddie without letting them own the rest of my life.
Some days are easier, some are not, but we keep our appointments and remind each other that healing isn’t a straight line.
We complement one another at every turn, and in the ways that matter, we complete each other.
After finishing the Caesar salad, I head to the bathroom. On my way back, halfway down the hall, a hand reaches out and tugs me into one of Gideon’s guest rooms.
“Alone at last,” Joel murmurs.
He lowers his head and gives me a tender, devastating kiss.
When he finally lifts his mouth from mine, I smile against his lips. “From storeroom to guest room,” I tease. “Quite the glow-up.”
“Our storeroom kiss is still my favorite memory,” he says, his voice husky.
“Mine too,” I whisper.
I press a kiss to the scar I love. It’s a testament to the fighter he was even at thirteen.
Joel wraps his arms around me, and I rest my cheek against his chest. The murmur of voices down the corridor fades, and all I hear is his heartbeat, steady and strong.
I love my family and friends, but these borrowed minutes with the man who has my whole heart feels like the soft, safe corner of my world. My happy place.
“I finally have you all to myself,” he says. “Even if it’s only for a couple of minutes.”
He eases back just enough to look at me, his gaze lingering, taking in the flowing yellow sundress. Heat darkens his eyes. He knows exactly why I chose it. I wore yellow the first time I kissed him in that storeroom at Kate’s wedding.
“I have a little something for you,” he murmurs.
From the bed, he picks up a small parcel wrapped in white paper and tied with twine. He looks suddenly younger and a little bashful, which undoes me.
We sit on the edge of the bed. I loosen the twine and peel back the paper. Inside is a slim book of matte prints, each bordered in white.
I suck in the tiniest breath, my heart hammering.
“Start at the beginning,” he says in a low voice.
The first photo is me looking out his window, my fingers curved around a mug, one shoulder bare where my sweater slipped. The light is soft as breath.
He’s captioned it: Gentle heart, steady gaze, the future in your sights .
The next photo is a close-up of my right hand, a graphite smudge on my thumb, a pencil balanced between my fingers. Beautiful hands creating beautiful things .
The third photo is the hollow of my throat, my hair lifting in the faintest draft. Quiet on the surface, fire underneath .
The fourth photo is me walking Turbo, my hair in a knot, no makeup, a huge smile on my face. Radiant in everyday life.
The fifth photo is a tight shot of my locket cupped in my palm. Remember who you are .
I hesitate at the last page, my hands trembling slightly. Joel doesn’t rush me.
When I finally turn it, I see my studio desk from above. A card sits centered on a cutting mat. On the card are the words: Will you make a life with me?
I gasp, a half-sob, half-laugh flying out of me.
Joel goes down on one knee in front of me.
“This is what I see when I look at you,” he says, nodding at the images in the book. “Beautiful, yes. But also brave, radiant, fearless when it counts, kind in ways that cost you. You survived what tried to undo you and built something stronger instead. I wanted you to have proof.”
Tears spill from my eyes. My hands are still trembling.
“I’ve wasted enough of my life,” he continues. “I’m not wasting a second more. I know what I want. And what I want is you.”
“I want you too,” I whisper, my breath hitching.
“I love you,” he says softly. “And I promise you this. I’m here for the ordinary days and the hard ones.
I’ll guard your peace, back your choices, and make you tea when the world feels loud.
I’ll celebrate your wins and own my mistakes.
” He leaves a small pause. Then in a voice that doesn’t shake, he says quietly, “Marry me, Kenzie.”
Emotion wells up in my throat, but I manage to squeeze out one word. “Joel.”
His dark eyes twinkle. “That’s not yes.”
I laugh through the tears and fling my arms around him. “Yes! Of course, yes. There was never any other answer but yes.”
Pure and utter joy bubbles in my chest and spills over. There’s no part of me that wonders if I belong elsewhere. My love for him is the truest thing I know.
And when he kisses me, slow and tender and reverent, I taste the future we just said yes to. The small, simple promise that we’ll build something true and keep choosing it, one ordinary day at a time.
The End