Epilogue #2
A flicker of emotion passes over his features, and Sophia slips her hand into his. The rest of us nod, murmuring our agreement. I feel Briar squeeze my fingers again, an unspoken vow that we’re in this together.
“Now,” Dean continues, forcing a lighter tone, “I’m going to excuse myself to rummage through Orion’s fridge. I need another drink, and there’s bound to be dessert around here. Right, Sophia?”
Sophia laughs. “We brought homemade cupcakes. Double chocolate, your favorite.”
A general groan of delight ripples around the table. I catch Asher rolling his eyes again, but the corner of his mouth quirks up. Lincoln chuckles, patting his stomach. “Well, we might have to waddle out of here.”
We continue feasting, the conversation weaving from topic to topic—Ranger and Tory’s upcoming trip to the mountains, Asher’s new side hobby designing custom drone attachments, Boone’s plan to visit family overseas.
Even Jeb gets a mention, though mostly to complain about his 5 a.m. squawking.
Briar volunteers an impassioned defense of the bird, claiming he’s just “energetically curious.” We all grin and humor her.
Eventually, the plates clear, the drinks run low, and we drift into the backyard to sprawl on lawn chairs, the sky overhead streaked with oranges and purples from the setting sun.
Jeb waddles around on the grass, pecking at random spots.
Ranger keeps an eye on him, calling out, “Don’t you dare take flight and vanish, you little thief.
” Jeb merely cocks his head, squawks “Bah-hah-mas!” once more, and flutters closer.
I settle onto a cushioned outdoor sofa, Briar tucked beside me.
She leans her head against my shoulder, and I drape an arm around her.
Her hair smells like citrus shampoo and sunshine.
The rest of the crew lounge around, finishing off the last of the iced tea or cracking open new bottles of beer.
A comfortable silence envelops us, punctuated by the chirping of crickets and the occasional whir of a passing car in the distance.
When darkness finally settles, Dean and Sophia start gathering their things.
Asher stands, picking at his phone, no doubt checking details for his next dreaded assignment.
Boone and Lincoln chat quietly about tomorrow’s training schedule.
Ranger and Tory slip inside to wash a few dishes, and the muffled sound of running water filters through the open windows.
Briar shifts in my arms, her lips grazing my ear. “Ready for them to go so we can have some alone time?”
My heart stutters at her soft tone. Alone time. After everything, that concept feels sacred. I nod, pressing my mouth to her forehead. “More than ready.”
As if on cue, the final goodbyes are said.
We migrate back into the house, flipping off a few lights until only the living room lamp casts a gentle glow. The remains of the evening’s feast clutter the table, but it can wait. I guide Briar to the couch, and we sink into the cushions, the hush of night settling around us.
“You did good tonight,” she whispers, tracing a fingertip along the collar of my shirt. “You always do. Making everyone feel safe.”
I shrug, a little self-conscious. “They’re family, in their own way.”
She nods, eyes reflecting the warm light. “A big, protective, kinda crazy family,” she amends with a grin.
We laugh, letting that notion sink in. For a moment, I recall the day I almost lost her, the bullet in my side, the endless hospital nights. My chest tightens with a flood of gratitude that she’s here, that we survived. Slowly, I cup her cheek.
“I love you, you know,” I say, voice thick with emotion. “Not a day goes by where I don’t realize how lucky I am.”
Her gaze softens, tears glistening at the corners of her eyes. “I love you too,” she breathes, leaning in. Our lips meet, a soft, lingering kiss that conveys more than words ever could—a quiet vow, a promise of tomorrow.
When we part, she curls closer, resting her head on my shoulder. I skim my fingers up and down her arm. The hum of the air conditioner clicks on, stirring the curtains slightly. Jeb mutters something from the other room, but it’s subdued now that the crowd’s gone.
“What do you think happens next?” she asks softly, perhaps uncertain about the future now that the immediate danger has passed.
I take a slow breath. “We keep living,” I say simply. “Jason’s gone, the Russians are done for, and we’ve got a new normal. We watch out for each other, chase away nightmares if they pop up, and build something real here. Day by day.”
She nods against me. “Yeah. I like that plan.”
We settle into a contented quiet, the weight of the last few months lifting bit by bit. The living room lamp casts shadows that dance across the walls, and I hold onto Briar, my heart full in a way I never imagined possible.
Suddenly, Jeb flutters in, squawking what sounds like “Goodnight!” We exchange amused glances. Briar giggles, sliding off the couch to guide him back to his perch. I watch her, my chest tight with the kind of happiness that’s both terrifying and exhilarating in its intensity.
This is it, I think. This is what I wanted. A home, a life, and someone to share it with. Even if the next mission or crisis calls me away for a while, I know where my heart will remain—right here, with Briar. There’s no question about it.
She returns, curling into my side again, and I press a kiss to her hair.
Outside, the night sky stretches infinite and peaceful, unbroken by threats.
Inside, warmth and laughter linger, even after the lights dim, forging a memory I’ll carry forever.
And I vow that nothing will take this peace from us again.