Epilogue
SIX MONTHS LATER
The November air was crisp enough to turn our breath into soft white clouds, but the bright sun kept the grassy field at the park comfortably warm.
Dry orange and crimson leaves skittered across the turf with every gust of wind, providing the backdrop for what was rapidly turning into an unreasonably competitive family spectacle.
“I’m just saying,” Dean said, pushing up the sleeves of his gray sweater to his elbows, “if we’re splitting teams by who sits on which side of the blanket, it’s completely rigged. You’ve got two soccer players on your side.”
“Aww, starting the excuses early today, are we?” Lavender teased. She tossed her scarf onto a nearby lawn chair, pulling her dark hair back into a quick, messy ponytail before stepping into Dean’s space to pat his chest. “Don’t embarrass yourself before the game even starts, babe.”
“At least you actually run!” Nora yelled at her brother. “I didn’t realize dating your best friend would mean I would have to turn into an athlete too.”
“And that was your first mistake,” Dean snapped back. Then he caught Lavender’s hand and tugged her close enough to press a quick, fond kiss.
The two of them had both started attending the University of British Columbia—basically on the other side of the country—in September but they were home for fall break and we were squeezing in as much family time as we could.
Across the grass, Imogen was setting up makeshift goalposts using two cooler bags. Cole was leaning against the wooden picnic table nearby, the sleeves of his dark shirt pushed up, quietly watching her with a half-eaten apple in one hand.
“Are you actually going to play today?” Imogen asked, looking over at him with an amused smile. “Or are you just going to supervise from the bench?”
“I’m supervising,” Cole said, his voice a low murmur. He raised a brow. “Unless you need me to bail your team out.”
He stood, wrapping an arm around Imogen’s waist and pulling her against his side. She laughed, leaning her head against his shoulder as he pressed a light kiss to the top of her hair. Imogen shoving lightly at his chest, though she didn’t step out of his grip.
“All right, listen up!” Sebastian’s booming voice echoed across the open field as he jogged back from his car, tossing a black-and-white soccer ball high into the air and catching it cleanly.
Nora was walking right beside him, wearing one of his oversized flannel shirts over her leggings and carrying a thermos of hot cider.
“Rules are simple,” Sebastian announced, setting the ball down on the grass.
He and Rhys were home from university too, although they’d both stayed in the province so they came home much more frequently.
In a hilarious turn of events, they’d ended up at the same school—and since they both continued playing soccer, they were now on the same team instead of rivals, although their dynamic had largely remained the same.
“No tackling, no hands, and if anyone kicks the ball into the duck pond, they’re swimming after it. ”
“Are you just talking to yourself Seb?” Nora asked, taking a sip from her mug and giving him a pointed look. “You’re the only one here who kicks with zero regard for spatial awareness.”
I sat on the picnic blanket, watching the whole chaotic scene unfold with a quiet, overwhelming sense of full-circle peace.
Rhys was sitting directly behind me, his long legs wrapped around my hips, his chin resting lightly on my shoulder as his hands settled warm and steady over my waist. His thumb nudged beneath the hem of my sweater, tracing slow, hypnotic circles against my skin.
“They’re going to turn this into an absolute disaster within five minutes,” Rhys murmured against my ear, his rough voice sending a sweet little shiver straight down my spine.
“Five? You’re generous,” I murmured back, leaning my head against his cheek. “Sebastian hasn’t lost a family game since middle school.”
Rhys let out a low chuckle against my skin. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the side of my jaw before tightening his grip on my waist. “Let him talk. I’ve already got everything I want right here.”
My heart did that familiar, wonderful flip it had been doing every single day since the hospital hallway six months ago. I leaned back into his chest, lacing my fingers through his.
“Okay! Teams!” Sebastian called out, clapping his hands once to get everyone’s attention. “Dean, Mongomery, Imogen, and Nora on one side. Cole, Ainsley, Lavender, and me on the other.” He smirked at Dean. “I went ahead and split me and Montgomery up for your sake.”
“Get up, handsome,” I laughed, twisting around to shove at Rhys’s chest. “Duty calls.”
Rhys groaned dramatically, but he kissed my cheek one more time before standing up and reaching down to pull me up with him in one smooth motion.
Within two minutes of the opening kick, all promises of “casual fun” vanished into thin air.
Lavender was darting across the grass like a lightning bolt, stealing the ball right out from under Dean’s feet with a triumphant, wicked laugh as he chased after her.
Imogen was unexpectedly aggressive on defense, blocking Cole from making a turn, while Nora casually stepped into the middle of a pass, intercepting the ball with a triumphant “Ha!” before tossing a quick pass over to Dean.
The game reached its boiling point ten minutes in, tied 2-2.
Sebastian took a hard break down the center of the field, dribbling the ball toward the cooler goalposts.
Rhys sprinted across the turf to intercept him, stepping in smoothly to trap the ball under his boot just as Sebastian went for a shot.
The two of them clashed together in the middle of the field—two tall, stubborn, ridiculously competitive men who had been challenging each other since freshman year.
Neither of them backed down. Sebastian stepped right into Rhys’s space, and Rhys held his ground, stepping right back toward him until they were chest-to-chest.
I rolled my eyes, jogging right into the middle of their standoff. I reached up, placing one hand flat on Sebastian’s chest and the other on Rhys’s, exerting enough pressure to push them a couple of inches apart.
“Hey! Play nice!” I chided, giving Sebastian a stern look before turning to flick Rhys lightly on the center of his forehead. “We discussed this.”
As the game kicked off again, the park was filled with the sounds of shouting, breathless laughter, and the rustle of autumn leaves.
Lavender scored the final goal, sending her running into Dean’s arms as he spun her around on the grass, while Cole took the defeat in stride by pulling Imogen into a long, dramatic kiss right on the center line.
I watched them all—my crazy, loud, deeply loving family. We had survived the wreckage of the past year. We had walked through the fire, cut away the toxic weight that tried to drag us down, and built something lighter, stronger, and infinitely happier in its place.
Rhys walked up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me back against his chest as we watched the rest of the crew gather around the thermos of hot cider. He rested his chin on my shoulder.
I turned my head, looking into his bright, beautiful eyes—the eyes that had loved me in secret for four years, and now loved me completely out in the open.
“Happy?” I asked.
Rhys let out a low laugh, pressing a warm kiss to the side of my neck that sent a shiver down my spine. “If thirteen-year-old me knew I’d be standing in a park four years later with my arms around you like this, he would’ve lost his mind.”
“You think so?”
Rhys brushed a strand of hair off my cheek. “The second I learned your name, I was enchanted to meet you.”
“And now?” I murmured.
He grinned, leaning closer to press a quick kiss to my lips. “I’m enchanted every time I see you. Nothing’s changed.”
I pulled his hand into mine. “I can think of a few things that changed.”
Every one of them for the best.
Thank you for reading Enchanted To Meet You!