Epilogue
GRACE
I write a big A on the paper, circling the grade and adding a smiley face sticker beside it. That’s the last one. With a satisfied smile, I tidy up the quizzes and put them in my bag, ready to hand back to the kids on Monday.
I’ve been a teaching assistant at Cherry Hollow Elementary School for nearly a year now, and I’m loving every second.
It’s a small school, the kind where everybody knows each other.
The kids are little bundles of chaos and laughter, and I love watching them grow and learn.
I try to be a safe space for every kid I teach—somebody they know they can talk to about anything.
After growing up with parents who didn’t give a crap about me, I know how important that can be.
Stretching my limbs, I grab my hot chocolate and head to the window.
It’s a drizzly October afternoon, raindrops sliding down the windowpane as I look out.
The forest burns as vividly as a bonfire, red and gold, cut through with a ribbon of silver as Sugar Creek glitters in the pale sunlight.
If I squint really hard, I can almost see Holden and Mila’s cabin from here.
I love living so close to my sister—we get to hang out all the time.
She seems happier than ever with Holden, especially now that their baby girl is arriving next month.
They’re going to call her Rose, and I can’t wait to meet my niece.
But there’s one person I’m even more excited to meet.
I can feel her now, a slight flutter running through my belly as she moves, and I rest a hand on my bump with a smile.
She isn’t due for nearly four months, but the time is flying past, and it feels like only yesterday I showed Lucian the positive pregnancy test, both of us crying happy tears.
We’ve chosen the name Autumn. It makes me think of when I met Lucian, with the trees glowing like bonfires and the scent of wood smoke hanging heavy in the air.
I step back from the window, pausing by the fire to scratch behind Midnight’s ears.
She’s grouchy today—the sounds from the nursery are keeping her awake.
Lucian has been working on a crib for the past couple of days, building it from an old oak he cut down in the forest. He’s almost done, and I can hear the roar of his tools coming from the bedroom as he sands down the edges.
The noise makes me smile, pride welling up inside me.
It’s a sign of how far my husband has come.
Building things again was a slow process for Lucian, but after he started seeing a grief counselor last year, he decided it was time to try.
He started with small things: a birdhouse, picture frames, a small coffee table.
I tried to encourage him, giving him ideas for things we could use around the house.
His projects got bigger—a chest of drawers, a desk, a bench for the porch.
It was amazing to watch his talent shine through, his confidence growing with every success.
He finally started to trust himself again.
Now he takes commissions for custom furniture, which he sells online to people who love his rustic style.
He’s even started using his talents to help people around Cherry Mountain—fixing furniture, patching up porches, and repairing storm damage.
That’s how he met Maddox, a mountain man living deep in the woods nearby.
Lucian volunteered to help him fix the roof of his cabin.
I didn’t think they’d stay in touch—being social still doesn’t come naturally to my husband—but something clicked between them.
They understood each other right away. Now, after so many years of silence and isolation, Lucian has a friend. A real one.
Of course, nobody will ever replace Dominic.
My husband carries the memory of his twin everywhere he goes, and I know he misses him every single day.
But it’s still wonderful to see him opening up to someone again.
I’ve gotten to know Maddox’s wife, Sophia, pretty well over the past year.
She’s the librarian at the elementary school, so we’re always chatting over coffee in the break room, talking about life on Cherry Mountain.
She says Maddox is just as reclusive as Lucian, so she’s thrilled they’ve found each other.
I take another sip of hot chocolate and set my mug down on the table, heading for the nursery.
The power tools have been replaced by the steady whir of a vacuum, the sound muffled through the closed door.
It cuts off just as I reach for the handle, the door suddenly opening.
Lucian stands there, sleeves rolled up, lifting an eyebrow when he sees me. We stare at each other, then grin.
“I was coming to see you,” we both say.
My husband is aging like fine wine. Maturity suits him, and he gets more rugged every passing year, his muscles thicker and more defined.
The lines on his face are deeper, the gray in his beard more visible, but I swear it only makes him sexier.
But age isn’t the only thing that has changed his features.
There’s a twinkle in his eyes that wasn’t there before.
He no longer looks like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“Perfect timing, sugar,” he says, looping an arm around my waist. “It still needs a couple more coats of oil, but it’s pretty much done.”
I let him guide me into the nursery. The crib stands in the corner, a gorgeous structure made of thick wood with carved slats on either side.
I examine it with a smile, which turns to a gasp of delight when I see Lucian has engraved our daughter’s name in elegant lettering on the back of the solid headboard.
“Oh, Lucian…it’s so beautiful.”
He presses a kiss on my cheek, his beard brushing my face. “I’m glad you like it, sugar.”
“I love it! You’re so talented.” I grin at him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Autumn will love it, too.”
“I hope so.” His hands settle on my waist. “She’s a lucky girl, having you for a mom.”
“And you for a dad,” I tell him.
Lucian smiles beneath his beard, his gray eyes glimmering as he leans in to kiss me.
I melt against his lips, losing myself in his familiar scent, pine and wood smoke.
It’s a long, lingering kiss, our mouths warm and open, hearts beating in time.
When we pull apart, my husband cups my cheek, and I nuzzle against his hand, my chest fluttering at the way he looks at me.
His intense gaze still pins me to the spot every time.
“I love you so much, Grace.”
He says it like a promise, and I beam at him, my heart threatening to overflow. I was so lost when I met Lucian, struggling to find my place in the world. But now I know exactly where I belong. Right here. With the man who has changed my life forever.
“I love you too, Lucian,” I say. “More than anything.”
And as he pulls me in for another kiss, resting a protective hand on my bump, I know I’ve found my home.