Epilogue
SAMMY
Two Months Later
The kitchen at the manor house smelled like coffee and cinnamon when I set out the last plate of pastries. Through the window, I could see Gavrel loading boxes into the truck with Feydin.
Two months since he’d proposed. Two months of watching the house transform from a project into a home.
Today we were moving in.
“Mom, should I put my stuffed animals in my backpack?” Corey appeared in the doorway, already wearing his jacket even though we weren’t leaving for another hour.
“Sure, baby. But maybe eat something first?”
He grabbed a cinnamon roll and disappeared again, his footsteps thundering up the stairs.
The back door opened. Dazy came in carrying a stack of collapsed moving boxes, Laney right behind her with baby Mai strapped to her chest.
“Where do you want these?” Dazy asked.
“Anywhere is fine. Thank you for helping.”
“Are you kidding? I’ve been waiting for this day since Gavrel arrived at the botanical garden’s opening ceremony.” She grinned. “I hoped he’d find someone as special as you to love.”
“Aw, thank you.”
Laney adjusted the baby carrier and cooed at Mai.
“Want me to hold her?” I asked.
“Thank you, but I don’t dare shift her from me to you. She’s been fussy all morning. I’m hoping moving around will distract her.”
More footsteps on the back porch announced Jim and Emma’s arrival, followed closely by Flint. Claire and Beth showed up minutes later, along with Dorvak and Ogram.
The kitchen filled with voices and everyone shuffling around. I poured coffee, passed out plates with pastries, and tried not to feel overwhelmed by how many people had shown up without me even asking.
A hand settled on my shoulder. Virginia stood beside me, her expression soft.
“You look ready to cry,” she said softly.
“Happy tears.”
“The best kind.” She squeezed my shoulder before going over to help Emma label boxes by room.
The transformation in our relationship over the past two months still caught me off guard.
She’d shown up to every single visit with Corey on time, never pushing for more than we’d agreed to.
Somewhere along the way, she’d started asking about my week too, offering advice about dealing with difficult suppliers for the café.
Listening when I needed to vent. Even suggesting I join her for a wine-and-paint evening with her, which I’d done.
Last week, Corey had started calling her Grannie. Her eyes had gone bright with tears, but she’d smiled and asked what story he wanted her to read next.
I’d never expected to find someone almost motherly in Dennis’s parent. But life kept surprising me lately.
Gavrel appeared in the doorway, his wings tucked in tight to avoid knocking into the frame. “The truck’s ready for the next load.”
“I’ll bring those boxes down from your room,” Jim said.
“I can help,” Flint said, and they headed upstairs together. Gavrel crossed to where I stood at the counter, his hand finding the small of my back.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
“Good. Really good.”
His tail curled around my calf.
The next hour passed quickly. People moved between the manor and the truck, carrying boxes and furniture Dazy had offered from what had been left behind in the attic. Gavrel lifted a dresser that would’ve taken three people to move, his wings spreading for balance as he navigated the stairs.
When I tried to pick up a heavy box, his tail hooked around my waist, tugging me backward.
“That’s too much,” he said.
“I can handle it.”
“I know you can. But you don’t have to.”
Feydin grabbed the box instead, winking at me as he passed.
“I used to think my brother was settling for a small life,” Gavrel said softly. “Now I realize it was just the right size.”
“It’s wonderful here.”
“It sure is.” He curled forward and kissed my cheek. “It’s all I’ll ever need.”
People moved through the house, packing up the life Corey and I had built here. We’d spent almost a year in this space, using that time to heal and grow and learn to trust again.
This manor had been our safe haven, but it had never quite felt like ours. The new house already did.
Virginia appeared with a box in her arms. “Where does this one go?”
“Kitchen stuff. You can put it in the trunk of my car.”
She nodded and headed out. Through the window, I watched her hand it off to Ogram, who added it to the growing pile in my car.
I’d spent too much of my life doing everything alone, convincing myself that asking for help meant I was showing weakness.
Believing that independence meant isolation.
But standing here, watching my community rally around my family, I finally understood the difference.
Strength wasn’t about carrying everything yourself.
It was about knowing when to accept help and when to offer it to others.
It was about building connections instead of walls.
I wasn’t the same person who’d arrived at this manor, desperate and scared and convinced I had to handle everything on my own.
I was still myself. Still independent. Still capable.
But now I was also loved. Supported. Part of something bigger than my own survival.
“All loaded,” Gavrel called from the doorway.
The caravan to the new house felt celebratory despite the work ahead. Corey rode with Gavrel and me, bouncing in the back seat and asking every thirty seconds if we were there yet.
The house looked different with the front yard full of vehicles. More alive.
Corey was out of the car before I’d barely put it in park, running toward the front door.
“Careful on the porch,” I called.
He slowed down marginally.
Inside, people scattered to different rooms, following the color-coded labels on boxes.
I found Corey in his room, standing in the center with his arms spread wide.
“It’s really mine?” he asked.
“Really yours.”
The walls had been painted pale green, the color he’d chosen after testing samples for a week. His bed was already assembled, positioned under the window like he’d requested. The Lego table sat against the far wall, waiting for his projects.
“Can Jake come over later to see my new room?” he asked.
“Maybe tomorrow. Today we need to unpack.”
He nodded, already pulling boxes marked ‘Corey’s Room’ toward the center of the space.
I left him to it and wandered to my reading nook. The bookshelves were still empty, waiting for boxes to be unpacked. But the window seat had its cushions now, deep blue fabric with tiny pink hearts. I couldn’t wait to sit and dive into a new world while savoring the one I was building here.
I traced the painted letters of my name. Sammy’s Reading Nook.
Footsteps came up behind me. I turned to find Gavrel in the doorway, a box in his hands.
“More books,” he said.
“Thank you.”
He set the box down and came over to where I stood. His wings spread, creating a familiar cocoon of privacy for us.
“Happy?” he asked.
“So much I don’t quite know what to do with it.”
His tail wrapped around my waist, tugging me near. “You could kiss me.”
“I could do that.”
I rose on my tiptoes to reach him. His hands settled on my waist, careful despite his strength.
Voices drifted from the front of the house. Someone laughed. Footsteps moved through rooms above.
Our house. Our home. Filled with people who cared about us.
I pulled back, smiling up at him. “We should help unpack the rest of the vehicles.”
“We should.”
Neither of us moved.
His purr started, a low rumble I felt more than heard. The contentment in the sound matched what I felt in my chest.
Eventually we made our way to the kitchen, where Emma and Claire were already unpacking boxes of dishes.
“Where do you want the cups?” Emma asked.
“The cabinet to the left of the sink.”
Gavrel went over to the spot where the new dishwasher sat, waiting to be connected. He’d ordered it in the exact model I’d mentioned preferring while scrolling through options one night.
I directed traffic while he worked, my voice steadier than it would’ve been months ago. This was my kitchen. My space to organize however I wanted. My confidence felt natural now instead of forced.
Virginia entered the kitchen with another box. “Where do you plan to have the silverware drawer?”
“Next to the stove.”
She started organizing, and we worked together in silence before she spoke again.
“I’m proud of you,” she said softly.
The words caught me off guard, and I paused to lean against the counter, facing her. “For what?”
“For building all this.” Her hand stilled on the forks she was arranging. “And for letting me into your life. You could’ve shut me out. You had every right to.”
“You’re his grandmother.”
“I’m also the mother of the man who hurt you.”
“You’re not responsible for his choices.”
“No, but I’m responsible for mine. And I choose to be here for both of you, if you’ll let me.”
The tight feeling in my chest loosened. My foster parents had been amazing, but I still missed my first mom.
Virginia wasn’t trying to replace anything. She was just offering what she could.
“I’d like that,” I said.
Her smile lifted. “Good. Because I’m planning to spoil my grandson and his mom shamelessly.”
“We’ll love that.”
We went back to unpacking, but the moment stayed with me. Another piece of found family clicking into place.
By late afternoon, most of the boxes had been emptied. Furniture sat in the appropriate rooms. The house looked lived-in rather than staged.
People started saying their goodbyes, heading home with promises to visit soon.
Dazy hugged me at the door. “You did it.”
“We did it. I couldn’t have managed without all this help.”
“That’s what family does.” She pulled back, her expression serious. “I’m so proud of how you’ve grown.”
My throat tightened. “Thank you. I appreciate the chance you gave me.”
“Eh. You earned every bit of our success.” She grinned. “The gardens have never looked better. You and I make a hell of a team.”
After everyone left, I found Gavrel and Corey on the back deck. The sun hung low over the lake, shimmering gold across the surface.
Gavrel sat on the bench we’d positioned for optimal sunset viewing. Corey sat beside him.
I settled between Gavrel’s legs, my back against his chest. His arms came around me, and his tail wrapped around both Corey and me.
His purr started again, deeper this time. Contentment radiated from him in waves I could almost feel.
“This is perfect,” Corey said. “Our house is perfect.”
“It is,” I said.
Gavrel’s chin rested on top of my head. His wings spread, creating shelter around all three of us.
I’d learned a lot over the past year, like how to lean on others while maintaining my own foundation.
Love didn’t always mean abandonment. Sometimes it meant choosing someone every single day and having them choose you back.
And family wasn’t just biology. It was the people who stayed and helped you build something brick by brick.
“When’s the wedding again?” Corey asked.
“Three months,” Gavrel said.
“And I get to be the ring bearer, right?”
“Absolutely.”
“Jake says that’s the most important job.”
“Jake’s right.”
I smiled, listening to them talk.
The sun sank lower. Birds called out in the trees. In the distance, a boat motor hummed.
Gavrel’s tail tightened around me, holding on like he was afraid I might disappear.
I covered his hand with mine where it rested against my belly. “We’re not going anywhere.”
His purr deepened. “Good.”
“This is really ours,” I said. It wasn’t a question but a statement of wonder.
“Really ours,” Gavrel said. “For as long as you’ll have me.”
“Forever then.”
“Forever works.”
Corey yawned. “Can we get pizza for dinner? I’m too tired to help cook.”
“Pizza sounds yummy,” I said.
We stayed on the back deck a while longer, watching the sun finish its descent. The sky shifted from gold to pink to deep purple.
Gavrel shifted, preparing to stand. “Let’s order that pizza before Corey falls asleep.”
“I’m not sleepy,” Corey mumbled, his eyes already half-closed.
I laughed, pulling my son to his feet. Gavrel rose with us.
We headed inside, our silhouettes briefly visible in the last rays of sunset before we closed the door behind us.
Home.
Not the building or the location or even the carefully renovated rooms.
But the three of us.
Finally, completely, perfectly home.
I hope you enjoyed Gavrel & Sammy’s story and returning to Harmony Glen!