Epilogue
ONE YEAR LATER
“I’m not doing a shot, Blake.”
“Oh, come on, Em,” Blake says with his lips pursed. “We’re celebrating!”
I roll my eyes and tuck my arms tight against my body. After getting lured to the Campbell’s farm for a fake emergency, I quickly realized I was walking into my surprise graduation party.
“One shot isn’t going to kill you,” Colt mumbles from the other side of Blake.
“Please. I think I remember you using those exact words before I finished half a bottle of tequila and streaked across one of the Campbell’s fields.”
Wren’s brother Chris throws his head back and starts howling at the memory I kept tightly tucked away. “I remember that,” he says, almost out of breath. “You couldn’t look at me without turning red for almost a month.”
My jaw tightens and I grit my teeth. “Maybe if someone didn’t think it would be funny to pull out the spotlight!”
The smell of freshly cut grass mingled with the sugary scent of buttercream frosting fills the air of the Campbell farm’s backyard. String lights hovered above the small gathering, their soft glow reflecting off the faces of all those near and dear to me.
Chris smiles and slaps his knee. “Calm down, Emma. We’ve all done stupid shit after one too many drinks.”
My mind is pulled back to all the memories I’ve created with the people surrounding me.
We have done a lot of stupid shit over the years, but we never judged each other.
They were constantly supporting me no matter what, and that’s why I throw my hands up in defeat and let the bitter taste of vodka coat my throat.
The group cheers and Blake slaps his hand on my shoulder. “There you go! See, that wasn’t so bad.”
My lips wrinkle into a grimace and I search the picnic table for anything to cover up the taste. When I come up empty, I excuse myself and head to the coolers lining the porch to find a water. I should stick to wine.
My attention is quickly diverted as Milo zooms past me. His tiny hands clutch onto my graduation cap, which he insisted on wearing after my ceremony. At the ripe age of three, he was a man of few words, but I could tell he was proud of me.
I let out a small laugh and shake my head. The sound is foreign—soft and unguarded. I didn’t feel this lightness in my chest nearly a year ago.
Not far behind Milo is Henry, who keels over with his hands pressed to his knees. When his eyes meet mine, it feels like that first night all over again. A fluttering sensation spreads throughout my body, culminating in a warm feeling at my core.
“You have no idea how much energy that kid has,” Henry says, struggling to catch his breath.
“I’ve been living with it for three years now,” I respond, handing him a cold water.
“Gracias, Pajarito,” he says, giving me a kiss on the cheek before taking the water from my hands.
“You’re welcome, honey.”
Henry pulls his head back, and he looks down at me. I reach out and adjust his glasses before they fall to the brim of his nose. It was a habit I’d picked up around him. It is also just an excuse to touch him.
“Try again, mi amor. That is an easy one,” he says, rolling his “r.” Henry was slowly starting to teach me Spanish, and I loved getting to know a whole new side of him.
When we visited his mom and stepmom over Christmas, I was welcomed into their family with open arms. Being part of the family meant learning Spanish and eating way too much, which was seemingly my favorite part about visiting his moms.
“De nada carino,” I say, rolling my eyes.
“Muy bueno, Pajarito. See, I told you you’d get it.”
It’s been a few months since Henry returned to Honey Grove full-time.
After finishing his ghostwriting contract, he fired Jen as his agent and decided he was ready to leave New York for good.
After visiting him a few times, I was glad he made that decision.
I would’ve moved for him, but I preferred the calming pace of small-town life.
Now, Henry was living with Milo and me, and his dad was letting us use the upstairs apartment when we needed it. He even got a new position as a faculty member at one of the colleges nearby. Everything was falling into place.
“Have you told anyone about grad school yet?” he asks, his eyes drifting over to the table full of my friends and family. “Guidance Counselor Emma has a pretty nice ring to it.”
I roll my eyes, knowing the kids won’t call me that. “No, but I will. I’m too afraid they’ll throw me another one of these,” I joke, gesturing to the banner that says Congratulations, Emma sprawled out in messy cursive.
“They love you,” Henry says, pulling me into his chest.
“Don’t act like you weren’t in on it,” I mumble into this shirt. He’s the one who gave me a heart attack when he told me Wren fell off of a hay wagon. I should’ve known better.
“Lo siento mi amor. Let me make it up to you. Do you think you can sneak away for a few minutes?”
I pull my head away from his chest and raise my eyebrows, questioning his motive. “Not for that. Get your head out of the gutter,” he laughs.
A light pink blush dusts my cheeks. I shake my head and let him pull toward his car on the other side of the driveway. My head spins with all of the possibilities. I was good on surprises for the rest of the day, but I’m sure one more wouldn’t hurt.
When we get to the car, he pops open the trunk and pulls out a rectangular package wrapped in brown paper.
Henry lifts the package in front of my eyes, and I see my name written across. My fingers tremble as I take it from him, unwrapping it carefully. Inside is a thick stack of papers, and the first page has a title. It reads: Lovesick by Henry Castillo.
My heart thuds to a halt. I swallow hard, my fingers brushing over the cover page. I flip the page, and there is a simple dedication:
For Emma,
The bravest, most resilient woman I’ve ever known. You taught me what love truly is—messy, imperfect, and utterly worth it. This is for the nights you doubted yourself, the days you fought anyway, and the future we’ll build together.
The world slows for a moment, and I blink rapidly to clear my vision. I flip to the first chapter and begin to read.
Based on the first few pages, it’s a love story. It is a story about two people who find each other at the most unexpected time. I continue to read, already wrapped up in the two characters and their story. It feels familiar.
At some point, I opened the car door and sat in the passenger seat, unable to stop my eyes from absorbing the pages. When I look up, Henry’s amber eyes are peering down at me from about. His eyes shimmer with fear and hope.
I try to speak, but the dryness in my throat makes it impossible. Instead, I hold up the manuscript. “You wrote this.”
He nods, his lips twitching into the faintest smile. He crouches down to my level, and soon, his thigh attaches to mine like a perfect puzzle piece. “I did. For you.”
“Why?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Because you inspired me,” he says, eyes locking onto mine.
I gently set the manuscript on the seat and throw my arms around Henry’s neck. “I don’t know what to say, Henry. No one has ever written me a book before.”
“Really?” he asks, humor lighting up his eyes. “But you don’t have to say anything, Pajarito. I wanted to thank you for giving me a reason to write again. I didn’t even know if I still had the words in me until I met you. I wanted to show you what you mean to me. You’re the heart of this story.”
Before I can respond, a familiar voice calls out from a few feet away. “Damn, brother. It didn’t take you long to go full Hallmark, huh?”
I see Knox leaning against his truck with his arms crossed and an amused smirk playing on his lips.
I shoot him an icy stare and cross my arms. Knox and I had developed a love-hate relationship over the past few months.
He was like an annoying splinter that dug deep into my skin.
When I started to like him, he’d find a way to push my buttons until I kicked him out of the house.
Maybe this was what it was like having a brother.
Henry grabs both sides of my face and pulls me in for a big, slobbery kiss before turning back to his brother. I hear Knox’s sigh of disgust, and it adds to the grin already painting my face. “I’m surprised you came.”
“Of course, I came. I wanted to congratulate Emma,” Knox replies, rubbing a hand over his clean-shaven jaw. “And I heard there would be food here.”
“Thanks for your support, Knox,” Henry says with a chuckle.
“Yeah, thank you so much,” I thank him sarcastically.
Knox nods and begins to walk over to the party when his phone starts to ring, and he takes it out of his back pocket. When he looks down at the caller I.D., curiosity wrinkles its way on his forehead, and his usual smirk begins to fade.
“Shit,” he mutters, stepping away from the crowd. “I’ve got to take this.”
I catch a glimpse of the name on the screen before he disappears toward the exit. Emery. I purse my lips in deep thought, trying to recall the name, but I come up empty. It sounds so familiar, yet so forgettable.
I barely have time to process before Henry looks up at me with his eyebrows raised and his glasses tipped down. I shrug my shoulders and shake my head. I had no idea what girl was making Knox so stressed.
When Knox disappears back to his truck, Henry tilts his head toward me and massages the bridge of his nose. “Should we be worried?”
I shake my head, and my lips curl into a knowing smile. “Nope. But I have a feeling Knox has his work cut out for him. She’s going to make his life very complicated.”
Henry laughs, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “There’s nothing wrong with a little complication. Maybe that’s exactly what he needs.”
“Mhmm,” I mumble to myself. “Are you trying to say my life is complicated?”
“I’m not walking into that one,” he says, standing up to face me. His hands wrap around my hips and pull me into him. “But for what it’s worth, I love every complicated piece of you, Emma Davis.”
I drape my arms around Henry’s neck and back my head until our eyes are locked together. My limbs morph into his body in perfect ecstasy, happy to have finally found their missing puzzle piece.
My life wasn’t perfect. No one’s was. But when I think of the person I’ve become since my divorce and how many years I spent trying to find happiness in the wrong places, I don’t mourn the life I thought I wanted.
I didn’t want perfect. I just wanted him, our life together, and everything in between, which was icing on the cake.
“I love you too, Henry Castillo.”