Epilogue
Ashley
Three Months Later
I wake to the smell of coffee and the sound of Ross moving around in the kitchen.
Our kitchen.
The thought still makes me smile.
I stretch in bed, the morning light filtering through curtains we picked out together two weeks ago. Bright yellow, because I told him I was done with beige and gray, and he'd laughed and said I could paint the whole damn house yellow if it made me happy.
I didn't. But knowing I could mattered.
I pull on one of his flannels and pad barefoot down the hallway. The cabin is small but perfect, tucked into the mountainside with a view that makes my chest ache in the best way every single morning.
Ross is at the stove, still in his pajama pants and nothing else, flipping what looks like French toast. His hair is messy, and there's a contentment in the set of his shoulders that wasn't there three months ago.
"Morning," I say.
He turns, and his whole face softens when he sees me. "Morning, beautiful."
I cross to him and slide my arms around his waist from behind, pressing my cheek against his bare back. His skin is warm, and I can feel his heartbeat, steady and sure.
"You're up early," I murmur.
"Had an idea," he says.
"Oh?"
He turns in my arms and kisses my forehead. "Drink your coffee first. Then I'll tell you."
I narrow my eyes at him, but I'm smiling. "That's not fair."
"Life's not fair," he says, grinning. "But breakfast is almost ready, so you won't have to wait long."
I pour myself a cup of coffee and lean against the counter, watching him plate the French toast with the kind of focus he brings to everything. It's one of the things I love about him. When Ross does something, he's all in.
The protection order against Brandon came through within forty-eight hours of that first night.
Brandon showed up at the motel once more, two days later, and found Ross waiting for him in the parking lot.
I don't know exactly what was said—Ross won't tell me all of it—but I know Brandon left town that afternoon and hasn't been back since.
The order is good for a year, but Ross has friends in law enforcement across three states now, all keeping an eye out. Brandon won't get close again without someone knowing.
For the first time in ages, I can breathe without looking over my shoulder.
Ross sets a plate in front of me, then sits across the table with his own.
"So," I say, cutting into the French toast. "This idea of yours."
He takes a sip of his coffee, watching me with that look that still makes my stomach flip. "How do you feel about taking some time off in the spring?"
I pause mid-bite. "Time off from what? I love my job."
I'd found work at the local library within three weeks of deciding to stay. It's quiet, steady, and I get to spend my days surrounded by books and people who don't ask too many questions. It's perfect.
"Not quitting," Ross says quickly. "Just... a couple weeks. Maybe three."
"For?"
His mouth curves into a smile. "I've been thinking about what you said. About your dad. About the Appalachian Trail."
My chest swells with affection for him. "Ross..."
"Hear me out," he says, leaning forward. "We don't have to do the whole thing. But we could do a section. Maybe start in Georgia and hike north for a couple weeks. See how it feels before we commit to more?”
I set my fork down, staring at him. "You want to hike the Appalachian Trail with me?"
"I want to do a lot of things with you," he says. "But yeah. That's one of them."
My eyes start to sting, and I blink rapidly. I reach across the table and take his hand. His fingers curl around mine immediately, warm and solid and real.
"You really mean this," I say.
"I really mean this," he confirms. "Your dad wanted to do it with you. And since he can't... I thought maybe I could."
The tears spill over before I can stop them.
Ross is out of his chair and around the table in an instant, pulling me up into his arms. I bury my face against his chest and let myself cry. Not from sadness, but from the relief of finally finding someone who not only values my dreams but helps them come true.
"Hey," he murmurs, holding me close. "You okay?"
I nod against him. "Yeah. I just... I love you."
I feel him go still.
We haven't said the words yet. Not out loud. It's been there, in every touch, every look, every choice we've made together since the first day. But the words haven't come.
Until now.
Ross pulls back just enough to cup my face in his hands, thumbs brushing away the tears on my cheeks.
"Say that again," he says.
I smile through the tears. "I love you."
His eyes are bright, fierce, and so full of emotion it steals my breath.
"I love you too," he says. "Have since the night I pulled you over and you looked at me like I was about to ruin your life with a speeding ticket. I just didn’t want to spook you… didn’t want to make you run.”
I laugh, the sound watery but real. "I’ve never run from you, Ross. You saved my life."
"We saved each other," he corrects, then kisses me, soft and slow and perfect.
When we finally pull apart, I rest my forehead against his.
"Spring, then," I say. "We'll start at the bottom of the Trail and work our way up one trip at a time.”
"Spring," he agrees.
I brush the tears from my cheeks. "And Ross?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For everything."
He smiles, that rare, full smile that makes him look younger and lighter and happy. "You don't have to thank me for loving you, Ashley. It's the easiest thing in the world.”