Epilogue
WRYAN
NINE DAYS LATER
T he Christmas tree is well over twelve feet tall. You can see it from the second-floor landing. It’s decorated in bright silver and red, with lights twinkling in the darkness of the room. I sit on the sofa, cuddled under a thick blanket, as snow falls softly outside.
I only have one wish for Christmas, and I got it. Tanner slides onto the sofa next to me, his uninjured arm wrapping around my body. Our daughter is asleep in her bassinet next to us, and Eddie is curled up on the floor beside it. He’s as enamored with her as I am. Tanner hasn’t left my side for long since he woke up in the ER after his rescue.
He remained on an outcropping of rock on the cliff face until he heard gunshots and then Julian shouting his name. They had to call in a rescue unit for ropes and a gurney to get him. My attacker was killed that night on a dark road, his body lying on the icy ground as he uttered his last words. Tanner was saved, but he sustained a gunshot wound to his upper left shoulder and suffered from hypothermia due to exposure.
My Christmas wish was the do-over we’ve had several times now. The chance to be together again, and this time, the do-over where Tanner didn’t die the night our daughter was born.
He kisses the top of my head, and I snuggle closer to him. I’ll never take for granted the feel of his arms around my body or his love. He is the reason I’m smiling right now—him and our daughter.
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