Epilogue
. . .
Hayes
eight weeks later…
I’ve been carrying this damn box around for three days. Ever since I picked it up from the jeweler.
Waiting for the right moment.
It might sound cliche, but we’ve already spent too much time circling each other and ignoring our feelings. I don’t want to waste another day.
Snow falls in slow, lazy flakes, drifting through the glow of the streetlamps as I step out of the firehouse and pull my collar higher against the cold. Mistletoe Bay is quiet tonight. The short shift I picked up at the last minute to cover for a guy on B shift was uneventful.
Emmy’s waiting for me by the curb. Her long red coat and matching scarf is bundled tightly around her. Her hair is pulled back and hidden under the knit winter cap on her head.
She spots me instantly. And that smile? It knocks the wind out of my lungs every single time.
“Hi, firefighter,” she teases, walking straight into me and tucking her gloved hands beneath my jacket.
I wrap my arms around her, lifting her onto her toes so our foreheads meet.
She smells like coffee, peppermint and my body wash.
“How was your shift?” she asks softly.
“Perfect, now that it’s over.”
“You hungry?” she asks. “Mom made extra lasagna. Evie stole half for herself already.”
“I’m not hungry for lasagna,” I say, brushing my nose against hers.
“Oh?” She grins. “What are you hungry for?”
“You.”
She blushes beautifully, pink blooming across her cheeks. It’s not lust that hits me hardest—it’s the way she looks at me with her bright eyes, trusting and vulnerable. Like she’s holding out the match and asking me to strike it.
“Walk with me?” I ask.
She nods, lacing her fingers with mine. I lead her down the quiet street. Snow crunches beneath our boots as we turn onto Main Street.
“This place never gets old,” I tell her, squeezing her hand.
“No, it really doesn’t.”
“I love how it still looks like the inside of a snow globe this time of year.”
“Mostly one that someone keeps shaking.” She lifts her head up to the sky and catches a snowflake on her tongue with a childlike laugh.
“Remember a few weeks ago when your mom basically proposed to me on your behalf?” I chuckle as Dockside Cafe comes into view.
“She’s unhinged.”
“She’s not wrong.”
She stops walking almost right outside the cafe doors. Her breath fogs the cold air as she studies me. “Hayes… are you okay? You’re being weirdly sentimental.”
“I’m allowed to be sentimental,” I playfully defend.
“Sure. But this is different. You’re up to something.”
She knows me too damn well.
I swallow hard, reach into my jacket, and drop to one knee before I can chicken out.
Her gasp is soft but immediate.
The snow falling around us, glitters in the streetlights like confetti.
“Emmy Alder,” I say, voice rough. “I’ve loved you for longer than I ever deserved to. Longer than you ever realized. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me—and the only future I want.”
Her hands fly to her mouth. “Hayes—”
“Let me finish before I stop making sense.” I laugh under my breath. “You kindled something in me the first time you smiled at me behind your mom’s counter. And I’ve been yours ever since. So if you’ll let me…I’d really like to make this official.”
I open the box.
A simple ring. A single sparkling diamond. Classic. Timeless. Emmy.
“Marry me?”
For a heartbeat, everything goes quiet.
Then she drops to her knees in the snow and kisses me—hands cupping my face, lips warm and certain. She breaks away just enough for me to see the way tears and happiness shimmer together in her eyes.
“Yes,” she whispers. “Of course it’s yes.”
Relief nearly buckles me.
I slip the ring onto her finger and she stares at it like it’s a star I pulled out of the sky just for her.
Once I’m back on my feet, I lift her easily, spinning her once in the falling snow while her laughter fills the cold evening.
“Looks like my mom is going to get both of her wishes,” Emmy says before nervously biting her lip.
“Both?” I scrunch my brows in confusion. “Don’t tell me Gidieon beat me to it and asked your sister to marry him.”
“No,” she says, pausing for a heartbeat, letting the anticipation hang in the air. Then, soft, almost reverent, she adds, “Daddy.”
My heart lurches. I blink, thinking maybe I didn’t hear right the first time. Emmy pulls out something from her coat pocket. A small, grainy, black-and-white image.
I recognize it instantly. My stomach twists in a mix of disbelief and awe. A baby. A tiny little blob on the page, but already perfect. Already ours.
My fingers hover, almost shaking, before I take the image from her hands. I trace the edge of the paper like I’m afraid it might vanish if I don’t hold it gently enough. My breath catches, tight in my chest. I look up at her, eyes wide.
“You’re serious?” I whisper. My voice sounds strangled, hoarse with something I can’t name, some mixture of joy, terror, and most of all: love.
Her lips tremble, and she nods. “I wouldn’t joke about this,” she says softly. “Not now. Not ever.”
Snowflakes melt on her hair and eyelashes, catching the light like tiny prisms. My hands find her face, cupping her cheeks, and I feel like I could hold her forever and still not have enough time.
“We’re really doing this,” my voice barely louder than a breath. “You’re going to be a mom.”
Her hands on my chest, she holds on to me like I’m the fragile one. “And you’re going to be the best dad,” she whispers.
Her words strike me so deeply I can barely process them. I think of all the ways I’ve imagined our future, all the quiet nights, the laughter, the holidays, and somehow, it all feels like it’s unfolding right now in the snow, in her arms.
I spin us gently again, careful not to let the snow or my elation throw us off balance. Emmy laughs, this time quieter, more breathless, and presses her forehead against mine.
“You know. I already can’t stop thinking about holding this little one. Watching them grow up to play t-ball—”
“Hockey,” I interrupt.
She rolls her eyes. “Hockey. T-Ball. Football. Whatever.”
I swallow hard, words thick in my throat. “Em, I’ve waited my whole life for this,” I admit. “For you. For his moment. For a family of my own. I—”
She silences me with a kiss, soft and sweet. “I love you.”
My arms tighten around her. “I love you too,” I say, my voice rough with emotion. “And I swear, I will protect you both. Every single day. I promise.”
We stand there for a long moment, holding each other in the cold snow, letting the world around us blur into nothing.
I can feel the weight of everything. Past heartbreak from my own stupidity, near disasters, the holidays, the snow, the lights.
But none of it matters now. Only Emmy. The tiny life growing inside her. And the future we’re building together.
As long as I live, I’ll never forget this night. The snow, the warmth of her in my arms, the tiny black-and-white snapshot of our future—our family. My heart feels like it’s been set on fire in the best way, kindled from the first moment I saw her, and now, it burns brighter than ever.
I pull her in for one more long, lingering kiss, the kind that says everything words never could.
“Let’s go home. We’ve got a lifetime to start celebrating.”
She laughs softly, a sound full of hope and love. “Home,” she agrees.