Epilogue
Noah
I'm going to be sick.
Standing in the wings of the Saltford Bay Community Theater, I check my jacket pocket for what has to be the twentieth time in as many minutes.
The small velvet box is exactly where I left it, nestled against my ribs.
My palms are sweating despite the cool backstage air, and I'm pretty sure everyone within a ten-foot radius can hear my heart trying to hammer its way out of my chest.
This is insane. I'm insane.
I'm about to propose to Rika Everdeen in front of half the town during her daughter's dance recital.
"You look like you're about to pass out," Zoe says, appearing at my elbow in her costume.
The silver beading catches the dim backstage work lights, throwing tiny sparks across the walls.
At fifteen, she's transformed into this poised young woman I'm not entirely ready to accept exists.
"You need to breathe, Noah. In and out. It's pretty simple. "
"Easy for you to say," I mutter, tugging at my collar. The charcoal suit suddenly feels two sizes too small. "You're not about to ask someone to marry you in front of three hundred people."
"It's community theater, Noah. There are like seventy people there, tops." Zoe grins, that mischievous spark lighting her blue eyes. "And I'm about to perform my first opening-feature solo. So which one of us should be more nervous?"
"Honestly? Me. Definitely me."
She laughs, the sound bright and genuine, and I'm struck, not for the first time, by how far she's come this year. The angry, hurting girl I met almost two years ago has bloomed into someone confident and openhearted.
"Hey." Zoe's voice softens, and she nudges my shoulder gently with hers. "She's going to say yes, you know."
"You think so?"
"I know so."
I pull her into a quick hug, careful not to wrinkle her costume or disrupt her hair.
"You guys are the best thing that ever happened to me."
Zoe's arms tighten around me for just a second before she pulls back, her eyes suspiciously shiny.
"Don't make me cry before I go on. Ms. Langford will kill me if I ruin my makeup."
"Right. Sorry." I clear my throat, blinking hard against my own sudden wave of emotion. "Go be brilliant."
The stage manager's voice cuts through the backstage chaos. "Five minutes to curtain!"
My pulse kicks into overdrive.
This is it.
I edge closer to the curtain, unable to resist one more peek at the audience. The house is packed, every seat filled, but I find them immediately: front row, center stage, exactly where I planned.
Rika sits between Matthew and Belinda, her pale-blue hair gleaming under the house lights like spun silk.
She's wearing the sapphire dress that matches her wings perfectly, and she's almost too beautiful to look at.
Not that it's because of the dress. The woman could wear a potato sack and still take my breath away.
She leans over to say something to Matthew, who's bouncing in his seat. I notice that he didn't bring Mr. Gears with him and feel a pinch of sadness. The boy is growing up, too.
Belinda sits on Rika's other side, dressed in a flowing tunic covered in enough crystals to blind astronauts. Her silver-and-pastel hair is piled on top of her head in an elaborate arrangement that defies gravity, and she's gesturing animatedly as she speaks.
My family.
"Noah?" Zoe hisses from behind me. "You're staring like a creep. Come away from the curtain."
I let the fabric fall back into place, turning to face her. She's taken her position in the wings with the other dancers, all of them stretching and doing last-minute adjustments to costumes and hair.
"You ready for this?" she asks.
"As ready as I'll ever be."
The house lights begin to dim. The audience settles into expectant silence.
The curtain starts to rise, revealing the stage bathed in soft blue light as the opening notes of the music begin.
I watch from the wings as Zoe and the other dancers flow into position, their movements synchronized and graceful. But my eyes keep straying past them, through the gap in the curtain, to Rika in the audience.
She's leaning forward slightly, her hands clasped in her lap, her entire focus on the stage. On Zoe. The love and pride radiating from her expression makes my chest ache in the best possible way.
I love this woman. This fierce, beautiful, complicated woman who tried so hard to push me away because she was terrified of being hurt again. Who crashed her car into my grandfather's planter almost two years ago and told me she loved me in fuzzy donut pajamas and unlaced sneakers.
Who gave me everything I didn't know I was missing.
The group number flows beautifully, each dancer hitting their marks with practiced precision. But Zoe stands out. There's something electric about her performance tonight. A confidence and joy that wasn't there even a few months ago.
As planned, the other dancers begin to flow offstage in graceful waves, leaving Zoe alone in the spotlight for what should be her solo entrance.
She takes her opening position, arms raised, wings spread wide and shimmering. She shoots me one last quick glance, and I nod.
The music cuts abruptly.
The stage plunges into darkness. Confused murmurs ripple through the audience, exactly as planned.
This is it. No turning back now.
A single spotlight snaps on, harsh and bright, illuminating center stage.
My legs feel like they're made of lead as I force them to move, walking out into that circle of light. The microphone in my hand weighs approximately ten thousand pounds. My mouth has gone completely dry.
The theater goes absolutely silent.
Hundreds of eyes lock on me, and for one terrible moment, my mind goes completely blank.
Breathe. Just breathe.
I raise the microphone, and somehow my voice comes out steadier than I feel.
"I apologize for the interruption, folks. I promise we'll get back to the performance in just a moment."
I search the audience, scanning faces until I find her.
Rika.
Our gazes lock, and even from here I can see her eyes go wide, can see the confusion and shock play across her beautiful face.
The nerves don't disappear, but they settle. Just slightly. Because this is so completely, terrifyingly right.
"Rika Everdeen," I say, my voice carrying clear through the speakers. "Could you come up here, please?"
Another spotlight snaps on, finding Rika in the front row. Every head in the audience swivels toward her. Rika's hand flies to her mouth. Even from the stage, I can see she's trembling, her wings doing that nervous flutter they do when she's scared.
I watch as she approaches, my heart hammering harder with each step she takes.
Rika's eyes never leave mine as she walks down the aisle in the spotlight. Her sapphire dress catches the light with every movement, and her wings shimmer behind her like precious gems.
God, she's beautiful.
When she reaches the stairs, I step forward and offer my hand. Rika takes it, her fingers cold and trembling in mine, and I help her up onto the stage.
The moment our skin touches, the rest of the world falls away. Taking both of Rika's hands in mine, I look into those blue eyes that have haunted my dreams since the first day I met her.
And I begin.
"Almost two years ago," I say, my voice quieter now, more intimate despite the microphone, "you crashed your car into my grandfather's planter."
Laughter ripples through the audience. Rika's face flushes pink, but she's smiling.
"You were wearing fuzzy pajama pants covered in donuts," I continue, grinning at the memory. "Your hair was a mess. Your shoes weren't even tied. And you looked absolutely perfect."
Rika's eyes are already shining with unshed tears. I squeeze her hands gently.
"Do you remember what you said when I told you I wanted you forever?"
She nods, not trusting her voice.
"You said forever was a long time." My voice drops even lower, meant for her even though everyone can hear.
A tear spills down her cheek. I release one of her hands just long enough to brush it away with my thumb. Rika makes a small sound, halfway between a laugh and a sob.
"So here's the thing." I drop to one knee, hearing the audience's collective gasp, Belinda's delighted shriek carrying from the front row.
Rika's wings snap open behind her, spreading wide.
With shaking hands, I pull out the velvet box and open it.
The sapphire ring catches the spotlight and throws rainbows across the stage. The stone is the exact shade of Rika's wings, set in white gold with tiny diamonds forming a delicate band.
"I couldn't disagree more about forever being a long time," I say, looking up at her. "Forever doesn't feel nearly long enough. Not if I get to spend it with you. All of you."
I glance at Zoe backstage, then at Matthew in the audience, before my gaze returns to Rika.
"I love your strength," I tell her. "Your courage. The way you fight for the people you care about. I love that you gave me a family when I thought I'd spend my whole life on the outside looking in. You made me believe I could have this. That I deserved it."
My voice breaks slightly on the last word, but I push through.
"Will you marry me?" The question comes out clear despite my racing heart. "Will you let me spend forever loving you and Zoe and Matthew? Will you make me the happiest man alive and say yes?"
Time seems to suspend.
I watch emotions play across Rika's face. Shock, joy, love, tears streaming freely down her cheeks now.
For one terrible moment, my heart refuses to beat.
"Yes," she says.
The word is clear and strong and certain.
"Yes," she says again, laughing through her tears. "Yes, yes, yes!"
The theater erupts.
Applause and cheers shake the walls as I stand, my hands trembling so badly I almost drop the ring. But I manage to slide it onto Rika's finger, the fit perfect.
Then I pull her into my arms and kiss her like we're not standing in front of half of Saltford Bay.
She kisses me back with equal intensity, her arms winding around my neck, and I can taste the salt of her happy tears. Her wings flutter against my arms, and I hold her tighter, pouring everything I feel into this kiss.
Something crashes into us from the side, nearly knocking us both over.
"Mom said yes!" Matthew shouts, his voice muffled against my jacket.
I catch him with one arm while keeping the other around Rika, lifting the boy up. Matthew's face splits into the biggest grin I've ever seen.
Then Zoe joins the embrace, more carefully but no less enthusiastically. Her arms wrap around all three of us, her wings spreading to shelter us.
"Took you long enough," she says, but her voice is thick with emotion.
We stand there in the spotlight, the four of us tangled together while the audience applauds and cheers, and I feel something slot into place deep in my chest.
This is my family. My home. My entire world.
Finally, I pull back, laughing, and gesture to the audience with the microphone. "Thank you all for your patience. The show will continue now."
I guide my family offstage. Zoe returns to her opening position while the music restarts exactly where it left off.
From the wings, I watch her begin her solo with Rika tucked against my side and Matthew pressed against my other.
I've never felt so full. So complete.
Zoe is transcendent. She dances like she's flying, like gravity doesn't apply to her, like nothing in the world can hold her down. I glance down at Rika and see tears streaming down her face as she watches her daughter.
Rika squeezes my hand. One, two, three.
Three squeezes means I love you.
Without taking my eyes from the stage, I squeeze back. One, two, three.
Forever might be a long time. But with this family, with this love, with Rika beside me?
Forever doesn't feel nearly long enough.
* * *
THE END