Epilogue #2
He reaches into his pocket. The ring rests in his palm, an antique emerald-cut diamond, deep and clear, set in a band that looks like it’s already lived a life.
“This was Evie’s,” he says quietly. “My grandfather gave it to her.”
My chest tightens, but he doesn’t let the moment tip too far.
“I’m sorry she’s not here,” he adds. No explanations. No justifications. He lets the truth stand.
Then he looks back up at me, eyes steady. “I promise to choose you every day. On the loud days and the quiet ones. When work gets heavy. When life doesn’t slow down the way we wish it would.”
My eyes burn.
“So I’m asking you,” he continues, “not because it’s convenient. Not because everyone’s here. But because I don’t want another ordinary day to pass without you knowing exactly where you stand with me.” He pauses. “Will you marry me?”
My mind flips through everything that should make this harder than it feels. The speed of it. The practicality of it. The part of me that likes a plan and a little warning before life changes shape.
But I already live with him. I already choose him in the small, ordinary ways. We’ve already agreed to this. It just wasn’t official. This isn’t a leap. It’s a step forward.
“Yes,” I say finally. “I want to marry you.”
The words don’t echo. They don’t explode. They land softly between us, exactly where they belong.
Relief crosses his face first. Not triumph. Not excitement. Relief, like he’s been holding his breath. “Okay,” he says quietly, as if he’s acknowledging something sacred. “Okay.”
He doesn’t stand right away. He doesn’t look around the room. He keeps his focus on me and reaches for my hand, which is trembling just slightly now that the decision has been spoken aloud. “May I?” he asks.
I nod.
He slides the ring onto my finger, and the stone catches the light as it settles into place, cool against my skin before warming almost immediately.
It fits. Not just physically. Emotionally. Like it’s been waiting for me, not the other way around.
For a few seconds, it feels like we’re alone.
Then the room exhales.
Cheers rise around us, warm and full, not startling but celebratory. Someone claps. Someone laughs. Someone wipes at their eyes. Nicky’s voice cuts through it all, loud and delighted.
“She said yes! She said yes!”
That’s when Ric stands.
He pulls me into his arms, holding me close enough that my forehead presses into his shoulder, grounding me as the world rushes back in. I feel his breath against my hair. His hand firm at my back.
“Are you okay?” he murmurs.
I laugh, overwhelmed in the best way. “I think so.”
“You don’t have to do anything else tonight,” he says. “Just stay right here with me.”
That’s when I let it in, the quiet joy and certainty that come with knowing the choice is already made.
When I pull back, the faces around us come into focus again.
Ginny is grinning openly now. Ryker claps like he’s at a game he’s deeply invested in. Josie dabs at her eyes, and Sera still looks like she might vibrate out of her skin.
Trinity steps forward and wraps her arms around me, squeezing tight. “You’re marrying him,” she says, like she needs to hear it twice.
“I am,” I reply, and the words still feel new and wonderful.
Ric slips his hand back into mine, his thumb brushing over the ring. When the noise softens and the room settles again, he turns slightly, still keeping me close. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”
I follow his gaze to the man standing quietly near the desk, waiting patiently.
“This is my cousin, Gordon West,” Ric says. “He’s a judge.”
I blink. Once. Then again. “A judge,” I repeat, mostly to myself.
Gordon offers a small smile. “Nice to finally meet you.”
Something in my stomach flips. Not panic, exactly, but awareness, a door I thought was closed has suddenly opened all the way.
Ric squeezes my hand. “He can marry us right now. If you want.”
If I want.
I glance down at my hand, at the ring catching the courthouse light. I think about my dress. About the fact that I didn’t even think to wear earrings. About how nothing about tonight looks the way I might have imagined this moment if I’d been planning it.
And then I realize something else.
If I had planned it, I would’ve been stressed. I would’ve overthought every detail. I would’ve worried about timing and expectations and whether everything looked right.
This doesn’t feel like that.
This feels like standing still in the middle of a life that’s already moving.
“I didn’t expect this,” I admit quietly.
“I know,” Ric says. “That’s why I wanted you to choose it, not get swept into it.”
I look up at him and see the patience in his face, the care he’s taking not to assume anything beyond the question itself. My chest loosens.
“I’m wearing my work dress,” I say, almost laughing. “And flats.”
“I love that,” he replies without hesitation. “You look like you.”
I glance around the room. At the people who already know us, who have seen us tired and distracted and trying to juggle too much. At Trinity, watching me closely, ready to step in if I wobble. At Nicky, perched on the edge of a chair, eyes wide, fully invested in whatever happens next.
The idea of waiting suddenly feels stranger than the idea of doing this now.
“Okay,” I say, surprising myself. “Let’s do it.”
The shift in the room is immediate, as if everyone understands this moment deserves quiet.
Gordon gestures toward the center of the room. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Ric turns to face me, both of my hands in his now. For a moment, we just stand there, breathing each other in.
“This doesn’t have to be long,” Gordon says. “But it should be intentional.”
I nod. That feels exactly right.
He begins slowly, his voice steady and warm. “Love doesn’t announce itself in grand gestures. It shows up in ordinary days, in shared responsibility, in the decision to keep choosing one another.”
I listen, but I’m also aware of Ric’s thumbs tracing small circles against my hands, grounding me as my emotions threaten to spill over.
When Gordon asks Ric to speak, he takes a breath first.
“I promise to keep choosing you,” Ric says, eyes locked on mine. “Not just when it’s easy or exciting, but when we’re tired and distracted and stretched thin. I promise to show up, even when life gets loud. Especially then.”
My throat tightens.
When it’s my turn, I don’t reach for something eloquent. I reach for something true. “I promise to stand with you,” I say. “To build a life that makes room for both of us. To keep coming back to what matters, even when we get pulled in a dozen directions.”
Gordon nods, satisfied. When he pronounces us married, the words don’t feel ceremonial so much as inevitable.
Ric leans in and kisses me slowly, like there’s nowhere else we need to be.
For a moment, everything else falls away. Then the room comes back—laughter, applause, Nicky clapping too hard and grinning like he’s just witnessed magic.
Ric rests his forehead against mine. “You okay?”
I smile, surprised by how steady I feel. “I’m really okay.”
Then Nicky breaks the spell. “Is it over yet?” he asks loudly, eyes wide.
Ric smiles over at him. “Yes.”
Nicky’s face lights up like this is the best possible answer. “Cake?” he asks, nodding seriously, then immediately starts clapping, as if he’s decided that’s the correct response.
That seems to give everyone permission.
The room fills with sound, applause and laughter rising together. Trinity is the first to step forward, wrapping her arms around me. “You’re married,” she says.
I laugh, breathless and a little stunned. “Apparently.”
Ginny hugs me next, quick and fierce. Josie presses her hand to her mouth, eyes shining, then pulls me in carefully. Sera bounces in place before deciding on a hug that’s all energy and excitement.
Through it all, Ric stays close. One hand at my back. One hand finding mine again whenever the space opens up. It’s quiet reassurance, like he knows exactly how unsteady joy can feel when it arrives in a rush.
When the noise finally softens, we drift back into a loose circle. Someone pulls out a phone. There’s talk of photos. Of dinner. Of how fast the word is going to spread once people realize what happened here tonight.
I glance down at my hand again, at the ring catching the light. This time it doesn’t feel surreal. It feels settled, like it’s where it’s meant to be.
Ric notices and smiles. “Are you good?”
I nod. “I keep thinking I should feel overwhelmed.”
“And?”
“I don’t,” I admit. “I feel calm. Happy.”
We’re standing close again when he leans in, his voice low enough that only I can hear it. “I have one more surprise.”
I lift an eyebrow. “I feel like we’ve met our quota for the evening.”
He smiles. “This one’s for later.”
I wait.
“We leave in the morning,” he says. “Early.”
I blink. “We what?”
“Havana,” he says gently, like he doesn’t want to startle me. “A week. Hudson and Misty helped plan it.”
I stare at him, then laugh, the sound breaking free before I can stop it. “You stopped answering your phone.”
“I had to,” he says. “You would’ve figured it out.”
“Of course, I would have.”
He presses his forehead to mine. “I didn’t want to wait another day,” he says quietly. “For any of it.”
“I didn’t either,” I realize. “I just didn’t know it yet.”
Later, when we finally step outside into the cool night air, the courthouse behind us and our families lingering nearby, I let myself lean into him fully. His arm wraps around my shoulders, like it’s always done that.
“I’ve never been happier,” I tell him.
He smiles into my hair. “Good. Because this is just the beginning.”
Thank you for reading Dr. Dempsey. I’m so glad you spent time in Black Bear Valley with Ric and Liz.
If you’d like to see the original breakup scene between them—the one that happened long before this story began—you can find it here.
Or, if you’re ready to stay in the valley a little longer, keep reading for a preview of Dr. Anderson, where Addie and Luc’s story begins.