Chapter 8
* * *
One year later….
The soft hum of laughter, clinking glasses, and acoustic music filled the backyard like a living, breathing heartbeat.
The sun was just starting to dip behind the trees, casting streaks of honey gold across the grass and bathing everything in that kind of dreamy glow you couldn’t manufacture.
Fairy lights twinkled from the patio to the oak tree out back, weaving light between friends, love, and stories shared over sweet tea and wine.
Penny stood near a table piled with food, chatting with Brielle and Sara Ann, her laughter rising above the music like wind chimes.
She wore a long, flowy sundress the color of peach sorbet, her curls pinned back with gold combs, little wisps curling at her temples in the heat.
She looked completely, irrevocably happy.
Baron stood on the porch, tucked just behind the string of lanterns, watching her. His fingers dug into the wood railing.
It had been a year. A year since he showed up at her door with a heart full of panic and a confession burning his throat.
A year of hard conversations and healing.
A year of Matilda falling asleep on his chest during movie nights and calling him “Dr. Dad” before switching to “Second Daddy” like it was a royal title.
A year of watching Penny become stronger, softer, herself—and watching himself fall in love with her all over again every single day. A year of blending a life with her that felt as wild and warm and solid as anything he’d ever known.
Now he was standing there with a velvet box in his pocket, feeling like his heart might beat straight through his ribcage.
His eyes scanned the yard.
Toddlers toddled. One of Brielle’s twin nieces giggled from her stroller, covered in icing. A friend’s curly-haired toddler was running after a bubble wand, yelling “MAGIC!” at the top of her lungs.
In a shaded corner, the two baby girls—the sweet nieces of the group—were cozied up in a double playpen, cheeks chubby, curls damp, hands slapping the mesh as they babbled to each other like they were plotting an adorable uprising.
Matilda stood nearby, arms crossed, acting like a camp counselor with a clipboard. “If you throw another juice box, you go in time-out. I’m not playing with y’all today.”
Baron swallowed hard.
“You waiting for a meteor strike, or are you gonna propose before someone puts the chicken back on the grill?” Esther asked, sidling up beside him with a glass of lemonade and a smirk.
Baron jumped slightly. “How do you always sneak up on me?”
“I’ve been doing this a long time, baby.” She gave him a once-over. “You look like you’re about to code on the floor.”
He laughed tightly. “I’ve done triple bypasses with less panic.”
Esther sipped her drink. “That’s how you know it’s real. Now get your pretty little speech out of your head and just say what’s in your heart. That woman loves you. We all do. So go get your ‘yes,’ boy.”
Baron closed his eyes. Nodded.
And stepped off the porch.
Bryce must’ve gotten the signal, because suddenly the music dimmed and his voice boomed from behind the DJ table.
“Alright, alright—can I get everyone’s attention for a second? Yeah? Cool. Dr. Jones has a little something he wants to say—and no, it’s not about brain surgery this time.”
Laughter rippled through the backyard.
Penny turned slowly, her drink halfway to her lips.
And saw Baron walking toward her.
Eyes locked. Smile tremulous. The whole world falling quiet around him.
He stopped in front of her, took her hands, and dropped to one knee.
Gasps. A few squeals. Matilda let out a dramatic “Oh. My. GOD.” from the background.
Baron didn’t look away from Penny.
“Penny Delgado,” he said, voice low and full of emotion, “I didn’t know what real love felt like until you. I didn’t know what it meant to belong somewhere until I found you and Matilda and Esther, all wrapped up in laughter, chaos, and Sunday mornings with syrup on everything.”
She blinked fast. He pressed on.
“I’ve spent the last year building a life with you that feels like home.
And I want that forever. I want the mess and the magic.
I want the hard days and the dance-in-the-kitchen days.
I want to watch you grow old and watch Matilda rule the world—and maybe watch a few more babies learn to walk across our kitchen floor. ”
Her lips trembled.
“I love you. And I want to spend the rest of my life proving it.”
He pulled out the ring box and opened it.
“Will you marry me?”
For a moment, she just stared at him—blinking back tears, hand over her mouth. The whole backyard held its breath.
And then—
Penny laughed, wiping her cheeks. “It’s about damn time!”
Cheers erupted.
Sara Ann screamed like she’d been holding it in for months. One of the toddlers yelled “YAYYYYY!” and fell over onto a juice box. One of the babies in the playpen clapped just because everyone else was.
Matilda barreled forward and threw her arms around them. “Finally! This is my favorite part of the story!”
Baron laughed, pulling Penny into his arms and kissing her like she was already his forever.
Penny whispered against his lips, “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”
They didn’t even notice the camera phones or the fact that Sara Ann had tears and glitter on her cheeks.
Antonio, standing across the yard with a kind-eyed woman on his arm, smiled. Genuinely. And toasted them with his drink. He leaned over and kissed his girlfriend’s temple.
Growth was real. Redemption, too.
Esther walked over, wine glass raised high. “To second chances, blended families, and a man smart enough to put a ring on it!”
Everyone hollered.
Penny leaned her head against Baron’s chest as he wrapped both arms around her and Matilda.
And as the music picked up again, they stood there in the middle of the party—three people, one heart, and a future blooming under the stars.
Forever had finally begun.
* * *
It started like the best memories do—quietly.
No thunder. No flashing lights. Just the soft rustle of wind through tall grass, the sound of birdsong curling through warm air, and the unmistakable feeling of being held, even if no arms were touching her yet.
Betsy blinked slowly, the fog of sleep thinning as the dream sharpened into something more real than anything she’d felt in weeks.
She was standing barefoot in a golden field, one she hadn’t seen since she was seventeen. The place where she and Billy used to sneak off to, past the river bend, where the wildflowers bloomed thick and the sky was just too big to ever feel small.
Except now it was even brighter. Even warmer.
Like heaven itself had settled here to wait.
She took a breath—and it didn’t catch.
There was no ache in her joints. No weight in her chest. She stood tall, steady, whole.
And then she saw him.
Billy.
He was standing under the old cypress tree that no longer existed in the waking world. Hands in the pockets of his jeans. That same old faded flannel shirt she used to steal when the nights got cool. His shoulders broad. His stance familiar.
He turned before she could call his name—like he’d felt her arrive.
And when their eyes met, time cracked.
“Billy,” she whispered, voice trembling.
His smile was the same as it always had been—crooked, sweet, a little shy at the corners. His eyes shimmered with the light of every year they’d spent apart.
“Hey, baby girl,” he said softly.
She didn’t run.
She didn’t need to.
She walked—slowly, purposefully—like every step closed the ache that had lived inside her since the day she’d buried him.
When she reached him, he opened his arms.
She melted into them.
He smelled like summer and cedar and safety. Like the home they made. Like the nights when the babies were asleep and the world was just them and the porch swing.
“I missed you,” she whispered, clutching the fabric of his shirt like she could anchor herself to the past.
“I missed you more,” he murmured into her hair. “But I was always right here.”
She pulled back, hands trembling as they cupped his face.
“I felt you. Some nights… after Baron would sit beside me just to breathe. After Bryce dropped off dinner and pretended he hadn’t. I’d close my eyes and I felt you.”
“I was there,” he said. “Every single day.”
Her breath hitched. “I was so tired, Billy. So scared. You left, and I had to figure out how to keep going when I didn’t know who I was without you.”
“You were everything,” he said, his voice breaking. “You held those boys together. You kept their hearts beating with nothing but your stubborn will and soft hands. You made them men. You made them good.”
She laughed through her tears. “They’re still rough.”
“They’re Joneses. They’re wild, but they love big.”
She nodded, tears streaking her cheeks. “You’d be proud of Baron.”
“I am. Every time he shows up for that woman and her daughter, I clap so loud heaven has to hush me.”
Betsy let out a tearful laugh, burying her face in his chest.
“You always did love to brag on your boys.”
“And you. I brag about you the most.”
She pulled back again, eyes searching his. “It’s time soon, isn’t it?”
Billy cupped her face. “Almost. But not quite.”
“I don’t feel scared,” she whispered.
“That’s ‘cause you’ve already done the hardest parts.”
Her voice cracked. “I don’t want to miss anything. The weddings. The babies. The good years.”
“You won’t,” he said, pressing his forehead to hers. “You’ll feel every hug, every celebration, every time someone says your name with love. You left so much of your heart behind, Betsy. You’ll never really leave.”
She closed her eyes, letting the wind circle them.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
“For what?”
“For loving me like this. For waiting.”
“I would’ve waited a hundred lifetimes,” he said. “But you’ve done enough, baby. You can rest now. You can let go. They’re gonna be okay.”
Her heart swelled.
“They’ve got each other. And that woman Baron loves? She’s fire and gentleness in one. She’ll make sure he doesn’t disappear inside himself like you used to.”
Billy chuckled. “Takes one hell of a woman to soften a Jones man.”