Epilogue
Stella
SIX MONTHS LATER
I cradled a delicate orchid in my palm, admiring the vibrant lavender petals thriving under my care. Setting it gently on the smooth wooden surface, I smiled. The special plant display Gabe had crafted was more than just woodwork—it was a symbol of new beginnings and deserved its place in front of the bright, sunny window. After Matt had been arrested, I bought two new specimens of the Queen Sirikit orchid to nurture myself before placing them in the restaurant. Matt had hurled both at Hunter in an effort to get away, which was how he got the black eye.
Note—do not mess with Hunter.
I returned the plant to the spot next to its twin before brushing my fingers over the empty space on the top shelf. This was reserved for really special orchids, ones I hardly dared to dream of owning. I sighed contentedly, maybe even hopefully .
Aiden’s and my cottage, now peppered with unopened boxes and scattered belongings, felt like the most inviting place on Dove or Calypso Keys. Despite the continued chaos of moving in only a few days ago. Three of these cozy two-bedroom homes stood in a row like soldiers, slightly separated from the Big House. We took the one on the southern end, the cottage nearest the Big House itself housing Maia and her family.
The canal winked at me from the bottom of the meadow, where Catch of the Day swayed gently, her lines secured to the dock. Securely fastened to the console, Aiden’s compass was a reminder of what was important for both of us. He and I could set sail at a moment’s notice, chasing the horizon whenever we chose. It was freedom anchored right outside our window yet tied to home.
Turning away from the window, my gaze swept across the cottage. Aged but spotless wood floors held the history of countless footsteps that had tread upon them before us, while the stone and timber walls stood strong. Exposed beams crossed the ceiling, and their roughness contrasted with the gentle light filtering through the windows.
Aiden had left early this morning, tight-lipped about his mysterious errand. His absence stretched the day thin, leaving me adrift in thoughts of how much had shifted in our lives. Six months ago, we were picking up the pieces, and now, here we were, delicately piecing together a shared existence. Boxes and all, this cottage felt right—like a puzzle finding its missing piece.
The front door creaked open, and I spun around, a smile breaking across my face. Aiden stepped through, the afternoon sun casting a glow about him. His eyes were alight, a secret dancing behind their blue depths as he concealed something behind his back.
“What are you hiding?” Bending sideways at the waist, I tried to peer around his frame.
“Nothing,” he replied, his voice thick with poorly disguised mischief. The corners of his mouth twitched upward as he held back a grin that threatened to betray his secret .
“Come on, show me,” I urged, taking a step closer.
He laughed. “So impatient!”
“Only when it comes to you,” I shot back. My heart skipped with anticipation.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to interrupt if you were doing something important.”
“Dammit, Aiden!”
I stomped my foot and he burst into laughter. With a dramatic flourish worthy of a stage actor, he revealed his hidden treasure. My hands flew to my mouth, holding in a gasp. It was an orchid.
But not just any orchid.
I recognized it at once. The orchid was covered with delicate cream-colored petals, each highlighted in the darker pink center by the very distinctive and enchanting face of a monkey. My breath caught in my throat as I reached out hesitantly to take it from him, afraid that somehow its delicate beauty would vanish if touched.
“Where on earth did you find this?” I murmured, my voice quiet as I cradled the plant like the rarest of jewels.
Aiden’s smile softened. “Let’s just say I have my ways.”
I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the orchid. Its unique petals stared back at me, each looking like it might wink at any moment. This was more than a flower. I had dreamed of this plant for years—this was what had caused me to become entranced with orchids in the first place. Aiden had given me not just an orchid, but a tangible piece of my deepest desires. And he had done it with such casual grace, as if gifting me the world was nothing out of the ordinary for him.
“Thank you,” I managed to say, finally looking up at him. “It’s perfect. How…?”
As Aiden’s chest swelled with pride, his lips parted in a victorious grin. “I found an orchid specialist up in Homestead. I’ve been emailing with her for months, waiting for her to get one in stock. Last night, she told me she had it.”
Homestead? My mind raced north along Highway One, the miles ticking away. I burst into laughter, the sound bouncing against the stone walls of our home. “That’s three hours away!”
“Exactly.” His eyes twinkled as he leaned against the doorframe. “Why do you think it took me so long?”
I shook my head, still cradling the monkey-face orchid, now nestled in my palm like a fragile secret. The room seemed to brighten, every sunbeam pointing toward the unique gift that had traveled such a distance just for me.
Gently, almost reverently, I placed the orchid atop the wooden stand Gabe had crafted. In the most prominent position, the orchid stood out, its quirky petals smiling at us both, a silent witness to Aiden’s gesture.
“Welcome,” I murmured, addressing the plant as though it understood my gratitude. “You’re going to love it here.”
I spun around then, propelled by a whirlwind of emotion, and flung myself into Aiden’s waiting arms. He caught me with ease, his body a familiar landscape of strength and warmth.
“I love it.” My voice was thick and I swallowed over the lump in my throat. “But you didn’t have to do all this, Aiden. One grand gesture was plenty.”
“Hey,” he whispered, his breath warm against my ear. “Seeing you like this, happy. That’s all I need.”
A deep laugh rumbled in Aiden’s chest, a sound that always managed to make my own heart feel lighter. His arms were still wrapped around me, strong and sure, but I sensed a shift in his mood—a playful annoyance edged with affection.
“No thanks to Luke,” he said, a snort punctuating his disbelief. “He told me women don’t make big gestures, only the guys. He knew exactly what he was doing, the jerk.”
“Maybe he realized we both needed to give a little. And trust a little more. But he’s right—women make grand gestures too.” I’d roared with laughter when Aiden told me the story of Luke’s wise council. But now I was serious as a giant swell of emotion filled every cell of my body. “You’re the only person on earth who understands why I want that orchid. What it means to me.”
Completely serious now, his gaze held mine. He wanted to say something, and the gravity in his eyes caught my breath. “I wanted to give you something that would remind you every single day of us—of this unexpected, beautiful thing we’ve got. I wanted you to have a piece of my heart that you could see, touch… Something as rare and extraordinary as you are.”
My throat tightened, and the room fell away until there was only Aiden, his warm eyes reflecting a truth so raw and real it made my own pulse quicken. This man, who had learned the language of my silences and the map of my inner scars, was offering me more than a flower or a gesture. He was offering me his world. Our world.
“Every time I look at that orchid,” I said quietly, slowly, “I’ll think of you. Of how you drove three—no, six!—hours just to see me smile. Of how you never gave up on us, even when I didn’t realize I needed you.”
“Always,” he vowed, the word as solid and enduring as the stone walls of the cottage that cradled our new life.
“Always,” I repeated, sealing the promise with a kiss that tasted of hope.
Aiden’s face shifted, the playful spark in his eyes giving way to something deeper and more profound, a flash of vulnerability. “I have one more thing.”
My heart hitched as he reached into his jacket pocket, producing a small velvet box that seemed to absorb the room’s warmth. He opened it slowly to reveal a diamond ring that caught the afternoon light like a prism.
“Look,” he said softly, his gaze never leaving mine. “Don’t get scared. I know you’re not the white-picket-fence-married-with-two-point-five-kids type. So I’m holding onto this… Just in case you ever decide you want to put down roots in more than your orchid pots.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “No pressure, though. I just want you to know I have this. Ring or no ring, I’m here. For good. ”
As I took in the glinting stone—a symbol of permanence in a world where everything felt as transient as shifting tides—something shifted within me. Then solidified. My past fears and uncertainties had already been nearly vanquished. Now the tiny remainder melted away under this symbol of his commitment.
“Well, you know…” I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face. “It would be downright irresponsible to leave such a beautiful piece of craftsmanship lying around inside a drawer. We’re still moving in. What if it gets lost?”
Understanding flickered in Aiden’s blue eyes, the same ones that had seen through every fa?ade I’d ever tried to wear. With a sage nod, he gently took my hand and slipped the ring onto my finger—fitting as perfectly as if it had always been meant to be there.
“You’re right. It’s safer this way,” he agreed, his words wrapped in the twinkling of his eyes.
The metal felt foreign yet destined on my finger, a circle of promise and a future I hadn’t dared to dream of until now. Aiden’s hopeful gaze held mine, his question hanging in the air between us.
“We aren’t kids passing notes in class anymore,” he said, the corners of his mouth lifting in that boyish grin that still made my heart skip beats. “But how about wearing my ring? A promise ring.”
I laughed through the tears that welled up. Shaking my head, I pushed back strands of hair that had fallen loose from my ponytail. Joy filled me that was so intense it was nearly painful. “Absolutely not.”
Aiden’s smile faltered, his eyes widening with shock, and he took an involuntary step back. But there was no room for doubt, not here, not in the warmth of our cottage where every wooden beam and sunlit corner spoke of second chances.
Closing the gap between us, I reached out, my fingers finding the familiar strength of his neck as I laced them behind it. The silkiness of his hair, the warmth of his skin, it all spoke of home. “We’re beyond school-age promise rings, aren’t we? I might not care for tradition. But Aiden Mitchell, I want to be your wife very much. So what do you say? Let’s get married.”
His eyes searched mine, looking for the anchor in the storm of emotions. And he found it in the depths of my gaze. The certainty that whatever tides may come, we would navigate them together.
“Anywhere. Any way you want,” he said quietly.
And I knew, with the certainty of the ground beneath my feet, that this was where I was meant to be. “Promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“Never stop making grand gestures.” My heart in every word even as my lips twitched into a smile. “They suit you.”
As we stood entwined in the golden light of our small cottage by the sea, he dipped his head to capture my lips in a kiss that tasted of unbreakable promises. A kiss as bright as every sunrise we’d witnessed together and all those yet to come.
Thank you for reading MEMORIES OF YOU! Second chance romance is one of my all-time favorite tropes, and I hope you loved Stella and Aiden. And there is one Markham story left… Get ready for Hunter and Brenna!