EPILOGUE ONE
ONE YEAR LATER
RHYS
This year’s Hearts Ablaze is booming with people. After last year’s rain out, it’s like everyone decided to celebrate doubly to make up for the let down at the community center. Willow’s busy writing down a bride’s information for an appointment while I man my own booth next door to the boutique’s.
My girl talked me into selling some specialty pieces at the festival to drum up extra business—as if I’m not busy enough—but it never hurts to try new things, something I’ve learned from Willow this past year.
I love her.
Actually… happily… in love.
Something I never thought would happen to me, something I never thought could happen to me. But she’s shown me how wrong I used to be.
“You really believe in this heart spark nonsense?” A guy nears my booth and jerks his finger toward the large tent set up for Suitor’s Crossing’s legacy of love at the center of the festival.
“Yep.” I nod, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Really?” A brow raises skeptically as he glances at the tent again where couples are posing on a replica Suitor’s Crossing bridge.
“I’m living proof it exists, and I know others who would say the same. But I understand your doubt. I felt the same way once upon a time.”
Willow ambles over to my side after finishing with her bride, and I wrap my arm around her shoulders—she’s so tiny compared to me, my arm practically dwarfs her.
“I think most people have their misgivings about sparkin’ and heart sparks.
It sounds too fantastical to be real until you experience it for yourself,” she explains to the stranger.
My lips drop to brush a kiss over her temple, and the man shrugs, his hands shoved in his pockets.
“If you say so… Guess I’m happy you two found it.”
“Thanks, and I hope you find yours, too.” Willow smiles encouragingly, but the man just shakes his head.
“Yeah, I doubt that’ll happen but thanks. I actually came over here to ask if you know where I can find the florist’s booth? My sister sent me to pick something up for her, but I can’t find it in this maze.”
Willow points him in the right direction, and soon it’s just the two of us… along with the hundreds of people passing by, but I tune them out. “You’ve been busy this morning.”
“So have you,” she says, resting her head against my chest. “Told you people would love these metal hearts you made.”
“Metal hearts that King has given me nothing but crap about for weeks.” He loves to rub it in my face how pro-Valentines and love I am these days.
But as I like to correct him—I’m pro-Willow.
She’s my love.
My heart spark.