Epilogue
Kayla
The apartment feels full. It’s not crowded or overwhelming… just full.
Voices overlap from the kitchen, laughter spilling into the living room as Colton argues with Sawyer about something that sounds like business but is definitely not important enough to warrant the level of intensity they’re giving it.
Melissa is leaning against the counter, wine glass in hand, shaking her head like she’s seen this exact argument play out a hundred times before.
“Tell me again,” she says dryly, “how either of you think you’re right.”
“I am right,” Sawyer says at the same time Colton says, “He’s wrong.”
I laugh from my spot on the couch, tucking my legs beneath me as I watch them.
It’s been three months since the bookstore. Three months since Sawyer stood in front of a room full of strangers and read my words like they mattered—like I mattered.
My chest still tightens a little when I think about it in a way that feels steady.
I shift slightly as Sawyer glances over at me mid-argument, his expression softening in a way that still catches me off guard sometimes.
Not because it’s new but because it’s real, not something he hides anymore.
“What?” I ask, raising a brow.
He huffs out a quiet breath, shaking his head like he’s irritated, even though the corner of his mouth lifts.
“Nothing.”
“Suspicious.”
“You’re suspicious,” he mutters, turning back to Colton.
I smile to myself, letting the noise of the room settle around me because this feels like something I didn’t even realize I was missing.
Not just him… all of it.
The chaos, the familiarity. The way they all just fit together like a unit that somehow expanded to include me without making it feel forced.
My gaze drifts to Melissa who catches my eye and lifts her glass slightly. A silent you good?
I nod once. I’m more than good and she knows it.
I didn’t move out. That still feels a little surreal.
It wasn’t because I didn’t want to stay. I also didn’t expect him to ask. He didn’t make it a big moment. Just looked at me one night, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and said, “You’re not going anywhere.”
And for once I didn’t argue.
My book sits on the coffee table now. I glance down at it, my fingers brushing the edge of the cover absentmindedly.
It’s strange how something that once felt like it could ruin everything ended up becoming something that changed my life completely.
It’s been selling out faster than I can process. Every time I think it might slow down, it doesn’t.
It’s just more orders, more messages, and more readers telling me how much it meant to them.
I should be overwhelmed. Somehow, the success doesn’t feel separate from everything else. It feels tied to it, tied to him.
A quiet breath leaves my chest as I lean back into the couch.
If someone had told me a few months ago that I’d be here living with a man who once terrified me a little, surrounded by people who now feel like family, writing stories that actually matter— I wouldn’t have believed them.
Sawyer moves behind the couch, his hand brushing lightly over my shoulder as he passes. The contact is brief but it grounds me immediately. It always does.
I glance up at him, catching the moment his focus shifts from the room back to me.
That look , the one he used to fight, it’s just there—completely unfiltered.
“You zoning out?” he asks.
“Thinking.”
“That’s scary.”
I smile slightly. “You survived it.”
“Barely.”
I reach up and tug lightly on his wrist before he can walk away completely, pulling him down just enough that he has to lean toward me.
His brows pull together slightly. “What?”
“Nothing,” I say softly.
He studies me for a second longer, like he’s trying to figure out what I’m not saying then his expression softens.
His thumb brushes once across my jaw, slow and absentminded. It’s the kind of touch that used to feel impossible from him.
“Don’t disappear on me,” he murmurs quietly.
The words hit deeper than they should because I know what he means. He doesn’t mean physically but emotionally.
I shake my head slightly. “I’m not going anywhere. Not unless you kick me out again.”
His jaw tightens immediately. “That’s not happening.”
“I know.”
And I do.
Things aren’t perfect but they’re not supposed to be. There are still moments where he shuts down, nights where he wakes up tense, breathing uneven, his body locked in something he can’t fully control.
But now he doesn’t do it alone.
His friends know, not everything, but enough. Enough that the weight isn’t entirely his anymore.
I haven’t pushed him to tell his family and I won’t.
That’s his timeline and his choice.
And for the first time, I think he knows that doesn’t mean I’m going anywhere in the meantime.
* * *
Laughter breaks out again across the room, pulling my attention back.
Colton is shaking his head, Melissa rolling her eyes, and Sawyer looks like he’s about to say something that will absolutely restart the entire argument.
I feel completely at ease in the middle of it. I lean back into the couch, letting the moment settle.
The front door opens while everyone turns slightly.
Dean steps inside, later than usual, jacket still on, expression as controlled as ever.
“You’re late,” Sawyer says.
Dean doesn’t look bothered. “Some of us have responsibilities.”
Melissa’s gaze shifts to him, curious. “Sounds mysterious.”
“It’s intentionally vague,” Dean replies.
Of course it is.
I watch him for a second, something about him feeling different like there’s something just beneath the surface he’s not letting anyone see.
Then his phone buzzes and I catch it. That small but real shift.
“Everything okay?” Melissa asks.
Dean nods. “Yeah.”
He hesitates for a second then sets his drink down. “I need to go.”
“That fast?” Colton asks.
“Yeah.”
Sawyer frowns slightly. “You just got here.”
Dean glances at him, then away. “I’m needed.”
The wording sticks… needed.
I tilt my head slightly, studying him. “You always like this?” I ask.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re managing something no one else knows about.”
That earns the faintest smile. “Something like that.”
His phone buzzes again. This time, he answers as he heads for the door.
“Hey—yeah, I’m on my way.”
He pauses briefly. “No, I’ve got her.”
My brows pull together. “Her?”
But he’s already gone, the door closes behind him and silence lingers for a second.
I glance at Sawyer. “…did he just say ‘her’?”
He exhales, shaking his head. “No idea.”
But something about it— something about the way Dean looked just now— tells me one thing.
He’s keeping something from everybody… and I have a hunch that we are about to find out.