Epilogue
Charlotte:
A year later:
The morning sun streams through the kitchen window, casting a warm, golden glow over the polished wooden floors. The air is filled with the rich, earthy scent of brewing coffee and the sweet, powdery smell of a freshly bathed baby.
Evie.
She’s in my arms, a warm, wriggling bundle of pink blanket and soft, dark hair. She’s three months old today, a perfect, tiny human with Noah’s dark brown eyes and a gummy smile that has the power to bring me to my knees.
God, I’m happy. So happy it still feels unreal sometimes. Like if I pinch myself too hard, I might wake up and find this was all a dream.
I never did go back to the city. My lease expired, and I just...
didn’t renew it. This little town, this lake house, it’s my home now.
Our home. Noah’s home, technically. It’s where he’s lived for the past decade, the place where he was hiding from the world before I showed up and wrecked everything.
In the best way possible, of course. We’re married now.
A quiet ceremony at the town hall, just the two of us, the Justice of the Peace, and my parents as witnesses. It wasn’t fancy, but it was perfect.
I still have Grandma’s house, though. I couldn’t bring myself to sell it. It’s full of too many memories, too much love. So, I keep it for when relatives come to visit. Which has been a lot since Evie was born. Everyone wants to meet her.
In fact, my parents are here right now. They’re waiting for me at Grandma’s house.
I’m supposed to bring Evie over for a visit so they can get their grandbaby fix, and Noah can get some work done on his latest novel without any distractions.
He’s been trying to write all morning, but he keeps getting distracted.
By me. By Evie. By this life we’ve built together.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” he asks, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind as I finish packing Evie’s diaper bag. He nuzzles my neck, his five o’clock shadow scraping against my skin in a way that still sends shivers down my spine, even after all this time.
“Nope,” I say, leaning my head back against his shoulder. “You need to work. And I need to go have coffee with my mom and listen to my dad tell me, for the hundredth time, how much Evie looks like him.”
“She looks like me,” Noah grumbles, but there’s no heat in it. He’s just playing.
“She has your eyes,” I concede, turning in his arms to face him. “And your frown. But everything else is all me.”
He smiles then, and my heart skips a beat.
He dips his head and captures my lips in a soft, sweet kiss that’s full of all the love and tenderness he holds back from the rest of the world, but gives so freely to me.
For a moment, I’m lost in the kiss, in the feel of him, in the scent of him.
But then Evie lets out a little whimper, and we both pull away, laughing.
“Okay, okay,” I say, patting his chest. “We really do have to go.”
“I know,” he sighs, taking Evie from me.
He cradles her in the crook of one arm, and the sight of my big, strong husband holding our tiny daughter still fills me with a sense of awe.
He’s so gentle with her, so patient. It’s a side of him I never saw coming, but it’s my favorite.
“Just one more kiss,” he says, leaning down to press a soft kiss to Evie’s forehead.
Then he looks at me, and his eyes darken with a familiar, possessive heat.
“And one more for you.” This kiss is different.
It’s deeper, more demanding, a silent promise of what’s to come later, when Evie is asleep and we have the house to ourselves.
I melt against him, my body responding to his with an immediacy that still surprises me, even after a year.
When we finally pull apart, I’m breathless, my cheeks flushed. “Behave,” I scold playfully.
“I always behave,” he says with a wink, handing Evie back to me. “Now go. Your mom will get worried if you’re late.”
“Okay, okay,” I laugh, slinging the diaper bag over my shoulder. “We’re going. I love you.”
“I love you too,” he says, leaning against the doorframe as I walk down the path, a small smile playing on his lips. I turn and blow a kiss to him, wondering how I ever got to be this lucky in life.
I have a feeling Grandma is smiling down at me, happy about the part she played in bringing us together. Her lake house, her gift to me, ended up being the gift that gave me everything I’ve ever wanted.
And now, a year later, I can’t even imagine my life without Noah and Evie in it. They are my whole world, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.