Epilogue
Madison
Four months later . . .
“Sorry to keep you waiting—I was trying to finish up the chapter I was proofreading,” I say as I climb into the passenger seat of Clara’s car. She invited me to go out for dinner tonight to celebrate the publishing day for the first book I proofread with my new publishing firm.
It’s been everything I’d hoped it would be—proofreading meaningful content, ensuring that every sentence is as polished and professional as possible.
I wake up every morning eager to switch on my reMarkable tablet and get to work.
Even if I’m working in my stuffy little apartment with a carpet-covered column holding up the kitchen counter.
We’ve taken to calling the apartment “The Cave,” due to its lack of natural light, since it’s built halfway into the ground on the bottom floor of the ancient apartment building.
Still, I’m paying for it with my hard-earned paycheck from the publishing house, and I’m saving every penny from my freelance editing gigs toward a down payment on a house.
That is, if any houses will ever go up for sale in Noel.
Stupid successful town with zero people leaving and selling their houses.
Maybe I’ll compete for one of the swanky apartments in Liam’s building when my current lease is up.
He’s fully settled into his space there, which is good since he works from home 80 percent of the time.
The success of his consulting business means he travels once or twice a month, but he never stays away more than a few days at a time.
When he’s gone, I’m on Hamlet duty. And while I’m only officially contracted to come in and out to feed Hamlet each day, I absolutely spend every waking second at Liam’s apartment and sleep in his bed at night, Hamlet curled up on the pillow.
It’s the only way to make Liam’s absence bearable.
“We need to drop off this bouquet of flowers to Becky at the cabin on our way to dinner,” Clara says, thrusting wildflowers wrapped in brown paper into my lap.
“Why?” I ask.
Clara answers, “Becky forgot them and texted to see if I could bring them over. I guess the people renting one of the cabins this weekend requested fresh flowers, and she wanted to leave them in there tonight before they arrive in the morning. I told her we could swing by on our way to dinner.”
It’s an odd request, and even more odd that Clara brought me with her on this quest instead of doing it on her way to pick me up. But Clara loves helping her friends, and I love Clara, so I’m along for the ride.
“Which unit is Becky in?” I ask as Clara drives down the gravel path between the tiny cabins.
“Your old cabin,” Clara replies. As she slows to a stop in front of my former living quarters, she gestures for me to open my door. “You can hop out, and then I’ll park,” she says. Really weirdly.
“Okaaay,” I say, opening the car door and taking the flowers with me. As soon as I close the door, Clara takes off in reverse, exiting the way we came.
By the time I’ve registered that Clara just left me here, the evening dusk is suddenly illuminated by hundreds of lights strung every which way around the outdoor space.
It’s then I notice the baby Christmas tree that kept me company in this cabin is perched right on the porch, twinkling with lights.
And the door is ajar.
My heart starts pounding as I approach the door to the tiny cabin, met by the glow of candlelight.
Liam is standing inside, dressed in his black dress shirt and charcoal gray suit. His hair is immaculately styled, and his eyes are intense as they take me in.
This explains Clara’s insistence on me wearing my coral dress to dinner.
As I step closer to Liam, his gaze remains locked on mine. I raise an eyebrow in challenge. “Suits—care to explain what’s going on here?” I ask, biting my lip to contain my smirk from turning into a real smile.
Liam’s lips quirk, and he closes the final steps of space between us.
“MJ—you’re wildly intelligent, so I have a feeling you already know exactly what’s going on.
But I’m going to spell it out for you anyway because I will never miss an opportunity to tell you how much I love you.
Or how you make everything in my world better.
Or how I never want to waste a single second of my life on any path but yours. ”
His face starts to blur as my eyes burn with tears, but I blink them away, placing my shaking hands on his chest. Liam cups my face in his hands as he says, “Madison, I love you. I love you with a wild, passionate, intense love. With a tender, soft, whispering love. With an unyielding, unbreakable, forever love. You make me love in every way there is, and I want to keep loving you for the rest of our lives.”
Liam’s hands slide down my cheeks, down my neck, trailing down my arms to take my hands as he slowly bends to one knee. He releases one of my hands to pull a ring box out of his pocket, holding it up in front of him.
“Madison Joy—MJ—will you be my wife?” Liam asks.
After screaming yes, I pull as hard as I can on Liam’s hand to force him to his feet, catching his lips with mine as he stands. He literally sweeps me off my feet and into his arms, kissing me with all that wild, tender, unyielding love he just professed.
“I love you so much, Liam,” I say when our lips finally break apart. I trace my finger along his jaw, across his lips. “And I have to say, I think you just gave the Bard himself a run for his money with that speech.”
Liam’s lips twist into a self-satisfied smile, and he murmurs, “‘I would not wish any companion in the world but you,’ my love. My very own tempest.”
Eyes gleaming, I say, “Let’s take the world by storm together.”