Epilogue
The river moved slowly beneath them, reflecting the last gold-and-rose streaks in the sky. The air was warm, the breeze gentle, carrying the low murmur of conversation and the occasional burst of laughter drifting across the deck.
Cari hadn’t wanted anything elaborate for her birthday—just good friends, good food, and a view worth lingering over from the deck of her husband’s boat at sunset.
Dev stood near the stern, working the compact grill with the same calm precision he brought to everything he touched, turning shrimp, peppers, and onions with easy competence.
The smell of citrus, garlic, and spice drifted through the air as he warmed tortillas and assembled trays of fajitas.
Mateo leaned nearby, watching with exaggerated seriousness. “You know,” he said, “most people would just order catering.”
Dev didn’t look up. “Most people would do it wrong.”
Cari emerged from below deck with plates, plastic utensils, and an unnecessary number of napkins.
Emily followed with her famous three-tier lemon-raspberry cake, carefully balanced in a carrier.
The layers were impossibly tender, the raspberries bright and tart, each rosette piped with a confidence she’d earned from repetition.
The frosting was the kind that melted on the tongue and made you close your eyes for a second.
Cari certainly did. Her first bite was as sweet as the frosting itself, her ecstatic hum drawing knowing chuckles from the group.
After dinner, Simone and Brae claimed the bow, feet dangling over the edge. Alec and Emily curled together on a bench, her head tucked easily against his shoulder. Greta and Michael shared a blanket nearby. Mateo disappeared below deck with Deanna—his plus-one for the evening.
Leland sat at the helm, guiding the boat with his usual calm competence so Dev could devote himself entirely to the birthday girl.
Up on the top deck, away from the chatter and laughter below, Gaby stood at the rail, leaning back into Rhys’s chest. His arms wrapped around her waist, steady and warm, holding her as the sky deepened from gold to violet over the water.
The moment felt suspended—quiet, peaceful, the kind of stillness she hadn’t realized she’d been craving.
Her phone buzzed.
She almost ignored it. She had an active surveillance case and was technically on call. But the caller ID didn’t say control room. At the name, her breath caught.
When she opened the message, a photo filled the screen: snow-dusted pines, a familiar porch, and Natalie bundled in a heavy jacket. Wind lifted strands of red hair into wild little curls around her face, cheeks pink from the cold.
October in Colorado. The first big snowfall. The moment Gaby had promised Natalie she’d be there.
Rhys leaned in to see over her shoulder, his breath warm against her ear. “She looks good,” he murmured.
“She does,” Gaby whispered, emotion rising. “And she’s smiling.”
Not haunted. A real smile.
She covered her mouth, eyes stinging with tears. “My sister’s going to be all right.”
His arms tightened around her. “She’ll have hard days,” he said, steady and honest. “Healing isn’t a straight line. Some mornings will feel like setbacks.”
Gaby nodded, tears slipping free.
“But she’s safe,” he continued gently. “She’s supported. And she’s already moving forward.” He rested his chin against her temple. “That’s the right path. Most people never even get that.”
Gaby turned in his arms, lifting her face to his. “And now that Nonna and Papa Flores moved to Denver, too—she’s surrounded by people who love her. Can any of us really ask for more than that?”
Rhys brushed his thumb along her cheek. “I’m glad she has that.”
“No more so than I am,” she said softly.
He hesitated, then asked, “Do you ever think about joining them?”
She frowned a moment before huffing a little laugh. “Have you forgotten we’re flying out there in three weeks?”
“I meant permanently.”
Her response was immediate. “Never,” she said, gently cupping his cheek. “My life is here. My friends are here. My work is here.” Her voice softened. “And the man I love is here. You asked me to be yours, Rhys Langston. I agreed—and you’re not getting rid of me. Ever.”
“That thought never entered my mind,” he said, fierce and certain. “There’s no going back. I love you, Gaby. And we’re holding on to this. Together.”
He leaned in, lips brushing hers—then he explained why he’d asked. “I don’t have ties here, except for the people on this boat. I’d make it happen if that’s what you wanted.”
The offer landed softly, but it landed.
Touched by the selflessness, she smiled through a mist of tears. “The people on this boat have become family,” she said gently. “And as Natalie says, planes fly back and forth between Miami and Denver every day.”
He smiled, accepting without a flicker of regret.
Gaby turned back to the rail, settling once more against him, watching the last of the sunset fade into night.
Around them, the river carried on, the boat cutting a steady path through the darkening water. But there, in his arms, for the first time in a long while, everything finally felt still.