7. Epilogue
Epilogue
Rayna
One Year Later
I am crossing the Mercury Slice dock with one pizza box held in both hands—carefully, methodically, the way a woman who has learned hard lessons carries things—when the diamond on my left hand catches the afternoon sun.
It throws a small bright arc across the weathered boards.
I stop walking to look at it.
I can’t help it. I have been doing this approximately forty times a day since Joel got down on one knee at the end of last summer, on the back of his boat, in the same cove where everything started.
He simply said, “I’m just asking for one day at a time… for as long as we both shall live.”
And really? How can a girl say no to an offer like that?
So, Jenna’s roommate returned and I moved in with Joel. By New Year’s, we were married.
And I’ve been blissfully happy every single day since.
But now, I’m looking at the ring. And I’m not paying attention to the wet dock.
My foot slips, the pizza box flies out of my hands, and I brace myself for a hard fall.
But Joel’s there to catch me. Because somehow, he has a sixth sense when it comes to me.
The pizza hits the dock with a magnificent slap. But I’m safely enveloped in my husband’s strong arms.
From their usual table, Joel’s friends laugh and whistle. Jenna slow-claps from her place in the pickup window.
“I hate you all,” I announce.
“No, you don’t,” they answer in unison.
They’re right. I don’t.
Joel looks down at the mess, then at me, then at the ring glinting on my hand between us. Something warm and amused moves across his face.
“You were looking at it again,” he says.
“I can’t stop,” I admit.
He pulls me a little closer. “Good.”
I press my free hand to his chest, right over his heart, the way I always do. It’s beating steady and sure beneath my palm. The lake glitters behind him, loud and bright and full of summer, and Mercury Ridge hums around us like it always has.
Like it always will.
I look at the ruined pizza on the dock, then back into Joel’s loving face. “We should have put this in the wedding vows.”
“What’s that?”
I grin at him. “That you’ll always be here to catch me when I fall.”
His mouth curves, slow and certain. “It’s a promise.”
I lean up and kiss him, right there in the middle of the dock, while his friends cheer and the lake sparkles and the sun hangs warm and golden over everything I didn’t know I was looking for.
I’m home.