Epilogue
TESSA
The podium under my hands was solid mahogany and warm from the Florida sun.
I gripped it, a small anchor as I looked out at the crowd gathered on the expansive deck of the Dove Key Marine Conservation Center’s main building.
It had been twelve months since I’d walked out of the town hall and secured the other half of my future with Braden.
The sun hung at that angle that made the world look golden and forgiving.
Salt spray drifted up from the ocean, mixing with the scent of fresh-cut wood.
The building gleamed behind me—sleek, modern, designed to blend into the natural landscape rather than dominate it.
Solar panels caught the light like a promise.
Behind all of it, the reef lay protected.
The crowd was a sea of familiar faces. Coleridge family members were scattered throughout—Helen near the front with eyes suspiciously bright.
Eli and Jules in a cluster to the right.
Jules managed to look elegant in a maternity sundress.
I didn’t know how she did it. Austin and Iris sat on one of the bench seats, their shoulders touching.
Townspeople filled the gaps. Brynn and Dean Mercer stood near the back.
Lila, who had shown up that dark night with ice cream and the hardest truth I needed to hear.
The mayor. The town council members who voted in favor of the project.
Local business owners who saw the center not as a threat to Dove Key, but as its future.
My eyes found Braden in the crowd.
He stood with his family, one arm slung around his mom’s shoulders.
He wore a dark button-down shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows—the look that threatened to make me lose my train of thought.
When our eyes met, he gave me the smallest nod, a silent message of support that steadied me more than the podium.
“Thank you all for being here,” I began, my voice steady and clear. Professional. “This morning, when I was preparing these remarks, I kept trying to find the right words. How do you thank people for believing in something that, one year ago, seemed impossible?”
Braden’s expression shifted into something almost nostalgic. He knew that impossible. He’d lived that impossible with me.
“When I arrived in Dove Key over a year ago, I was searching for a reef system to study. I found a reef system, but I found something else too. I found a community that cared about this ecosystem as much as I did. That cared about preserving it not for research papers or academic prestige, but because this reef is home. It’s worth fighting for. ”
Helen leaned forward slightly, a small, proud smile touching her lips.
“This conservation center exists because of all of you. The donors who believed in the vision when we were still working out of a cottage and surrounded by cardboard boxes. The town council members who chose long-term sustainability over short-term convenience. The local businesses who understood that protecting our reef protects our future.” I ticked through the names, and people sat a little straighter.
“The state environmental committee that awarded us the initial grant. My extraordinary research team, Kaia and Zane, who have been my hands and heart in this work.” I smiled at them.
After graduating, they returned and were now a couple. Another pair Dove Key brought together.
My eyes found Braden again, and my heart clutched in my chest. “And to the person who taught me what it means to build something that matters—not by chasing it across the ocean, but by having the courage to create it in the place that calls you home. Who supported this dream from the moment I whispered it on a pier, drowning in my own doubt.”
The crowd quieted. I was off-script now, and they knew it.
“A year ago, I stood in front of many of you at the town council meeting and told you I’d turned down a prestigious position at the Great Barrier Reef.”
A murmur went through the crowd as they remembered. Braden’s expression was soft, his eyes shining with deep, unguarded emotion meant only for me.
“I said then that my future was here, in Dove Key,” I continued, my voice lowering slightly, becoming more personal.
“Today, standing in front of a tangible piece of that future, I can finally tell you why that choice was the only one I could have ever truly made. Because building something with intention in a place you love is the most important thing in the world. Braden Coleridge taught me that. Home isn’t a destination.
Home is a person who believes in you even when you don’t believe in yourself. ”
I looked directly at him. “You taught me that the most important success isn’t proving yourself to the world. It’s having the courage to prove something to yourself.”
The crowd erupted. Not just applause—genuine, warm cheers from people who’d watched this story unfold. Helen was openly crying. Eli clapped Braden on the shoulder. But Braden just stared at me, his expression completely undone by pride and love.
The crowd lingered for another hour. I moved through it all on a cloud of adrenaline, aware of Braden on the periphery, a silent, steady presence waiting for me.
Finally, as the sun began its descent, he caught my eye with a small gesture toward the beach. I made an excuse to Kaia and Zane and slipped away to meet him where the manicured deck met the sand.
The beach in front of the Center was now part of the conservation easement, preserved and protected.
A path led into the ocean, where transplants of the super-coral colony were thriving in a purpose-built nursery.
Our footprints marked the sand as we walked side by side along the shore, our hands finding each other without discussion.
His palm was warm and solid, a familiar weight against mine.
“That was some speech,” he said, bumping my shoulder.
“Thank you. I meant every word.”
“I know.” He glanced at me, a teasing light in his eyes. “You do realize you basically called me out in front of the whole town, right? Mom is never going to let me hear the end of it.”
“She was already crying, Braden. I think I just gave her what she wanted to hear.”
He laughed, and we walked in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the easy rhythm of our steps a conversation in itself. The tension of the day—the speeches, handshakes, and public performance—finally bled away, leaving only this quiet peace between us.
“So, Marathon,” I said, breaking the silence.
“It’s a done deal. The ink is drying on the lease for the next Tidal Hops location.”
“I’m proud of you.” I squeezed his hand. “It’s a big move.”
“It is,” he agreed. “But I’ve been thinking a lot about it.
For years, Tidal Hops was my proof. Proof I wasn’t just some Coleridge screw-up.
” He stopped walking and turned me to face him.
“Then you came back and started building this place, not to prove a damn thing, but because you believed in it. It changed my perspective.”
“How?”
“I’m tired of proving. I just want to build.
With you.” We stopped, and he tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear, his fingers warm against my skin.
“The Marathon location is bigger, and it needs more attention. I’ll have to hire a general manager for it, trust someone else with my new baby.
And I’m thinking about doing the same for the Sunset Siesta pub too. ”
“Can you do that?” I teased gently. “The man who color-codes his schedule?”
His grin was slow and wide. “I’m evolving. For you, I might learn to live with a little chaos.”
“A little chaos? Braden, have you met my research data? My desk is a natural disaster.”
“I know. I love your desk. I love your mess.” His expression grew serious again. “The point is, the new location means I won’t be tied to the bar sixty hours a week. It means more time for other things.”
“Other things?” I prompted, my heart starting to race.
“Things like helping my partner launch a research vessel. Or taking a weekend off to go diving for fun, not for data. Or maybe, eventually, teaching our kids how to identify coral species.”
I swallowed hard, the image he painted was so vivid I could see it. “You’ve really thought about this.”
“For a year, Tessa. It’s all I’ve thought about.
” He took my hand, and we started walking again, our pace slower now.
“Ben told me something after… after everything fell apart. He said the real tragedy isn’t losing a worthy fight, but being too scared to show up for it.
I was so scared of losing you again that I almost didn’t show up.
I’m never making that mistake again. I’m here for all of it.
For you, for this, and for whatever comes next. ”
We reached a section of beach where the white sand was particularly soft and pristine.
“I brought you out here for a reason,” he said quietly.
“Oh, really?” I turned to face him, a small smile playing on my lips. “And here I thought we were just enjoying the view.”
He let out a short, nervous laugh. “Everything’s perfect. Just... working up to something.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I know you just answered a million questions back there and are probably sick of them. I was hoping I could get in on the act and ask one too.”
My smile softened. “Depends on the question.”
“I think it’s a good one.” The twinkle in his blue eyes faded, and his face grew serious. “I’ve been planning it for a while.”
He reached into his pocket.
My heart stopped.
He held my gaze. “I love you, Tessa. I loved you when I was seventeen and didn’t know how to fight for you.
I loved you when I was too scared to believe you’d choose to stay.
And I love you even more now, when you’ve shown me that home isn’t a place you escape to.
It’s a place you build with someone you choose, every single day. ”
He dropped to one knee in the sand and opened a small velvet box. Inside, a stunning solitaire diamond caught the last rays of the sun, throwing sparks of light.
“Building this place with you has been the honor of my life,” he continued.
“But it’s just the first thing. I want to build everything with you.
A life, a family, a future. I want to argue with you about mangrove preservation, celebrate your grant approvals, and hold your hand when you worry about fundraising.
I want it all, Tessa. Forever. Will you marry me? ”
Tears pricked at my eyes, blurring the perfect sight of him kneeling in the sand against the backdrop of a sunset-painted sky.
Overcome, I couldn’t speak. So I dropped to my knees in front of him, my hands framing his face, and pulled him into a kiss that was an answer to a question my heart had been asking for twelve years.
“Yes,” I breathed against his lips. “Of course, yes.”
He let out a shaky laugh and slid the ring onto my finger.
“It fits,” I said stupidly, laughing through my tears.
“I may have consulted with both Harper and Brenna,” he admitted, his thumb stroking my cheek. “Just in case.”
“You schemer.”
“I’m a planner,” he corrected, grinning as he stood and pulled me to my feet. “I learned from the best.”
He pulled me back against his chest, and we stood in the twilight with our arms wrapped around each other.
Behind us, the conservation center glowed softly.
Ahead, the ocean stretched toward the horizon.
To the distant north were the roofs of Sunset Siesta.
To the south, the masts of the working marina.
All of it here. All of it connected. All of it ours.
The last light of the sunset created a stunning panorama, framing us against the ocean, the center, the reef—the entire landscape of our story. We were just two people on a beach, but it was so much more than that. And the best part?
We were just getting started.
Thank you for reading BETTER THAN YESTERDAY!
Keep reading to discover what’s next in the Sunset Siesta series…