Epilogue
Ogunquit, Maine
RUBY
I wasn’t sure how I’d feel coming back here.
“It’s just an idea,” Micah prefaced when he first brought it up. “But I thought you might like going back to Maine. You’ve always said how much you loved it there.”
At first, I wasn’t sure how to respond. I have always loved Maine.
Some of my favorite memories come from there—walking by the ocean with my parents, picking up seashells and gently worn stones to add to my collection, watching saltwater taffy being made in York Beach, and shrieking as I ducked under the icy cold water because I wouldn’t have dreamt of not going in, no matter the temperature.
For all those things and more, I wanted to say yes. But there was a part of me that was scared to go back to Maine, too. Would the familiar sights bring comfort, or would they just make me miss my parents more?
“Nevermind,” Micah added when I took too long to answer. “We can go somewhere else instead. If you want to see the ocean, we can go to Nantucket. Or Hilton Head, if you’d like someplace warmer.”
But once the idea was out there, strangely, I didn’t want to let go of it. “Let me think about it,” I told him. “I’m not saying no. I just need a little time.”
As it turned out, I didn’t need much time at all. All day, I thought about Maine. It slipped in while I was finishing up my final edits on a manuscript. And again while I was jogging on the treadmill after work. Little memories kept resurfacing, and with each one, my heart would twang with longing.
“I’m thinking about going to Maine with Micah,” I told Grace when I talked to her that night. Grace knew about the trips I’d taken, first with both my parents, and then just my dad. “I want to go. But I’m afraid it’ll make me sad, too.”
“Why do you think it’ll make you sad?” Grace asked.
“Because I’ll remember all the things I used to do with my parents,” I replied. “It’ll make me miss them all over again.”
Grace paused to think. “Maybe. Or maybe it’ll make you feel closer to them.”
That stuck with me.
The following morning, I told Micah I wanted to go. “I’m not going to let my fear control me,” I explained. “I loved going to Maine. I looked forward to it all year. And I was thinking last night, what would my dad say if I asked him about it?”
“What would he say?” Micah asked. He took my hand in his and threaded his fingers between mine.
“He’d tell me to go.” Of that, I was sure. “He wouldn’t want me to stop enjoying something just because he couldn’t be there.”
“Are you sure? Because I don’t want you doing anything you’re not comfortable with.
Or something that will make you sad.” Even months after everything happened with Henry, Micah was highly attuned to my feelings.
If I even sniffled at a pet rescue commercial, he’d be right there, asking if I was okay, if I needed to go for a walk, or if there was anything he could do for me.
I couldn’t take offense at his overprotectiveness.
He’d been there during the flashbacks and panic attacks and the days when I couldn’t bear to leave our house.
He knew it had been a bumpy road, and he didn’t want anything to happen that might trigger me.
And having been witness to Micah’s nightmares, I could understand how he felt.
“I’m sure,” I insisted. “My parents would be happy if I went back. And I would really like to make new memories there with you.”
Two months later, we’re here. In Ogunquit. Walking the same beach I used to when I was a kid. And while it was a little bittersweet when I first arrived, that feeling has passed. It feels right to be here. Like Grace suggested, being here makes me feel closer to my parents rather than farther away.
“Are you too cold?” Micah asks, and I startle slightly as his voice breaks into my thoughts. His features crease with concern, and he tightens his arm around me, drawing me close to his side. “Do you want my shirt to wear? Or do you want to head back?”
“I’m fine,” I assure him. It is a little chilly, but that’s expected for May, especially when the sun is still rising and the salty air carries a crisp breeze.
“I’ve got all my layers on.” Glancing at his long-sleeved Henley, I add with a smile, “Although, I don’t think I’d mind if you took your shirt off. ”
Micah’s lips quirk. “Oh, really?”
I release his hand so I can slide mine beneath the hem of his shirt. His abs tighten as I touch them. His gaze darkens with heat. “I never mind seeing you without a shirt.” Glancing around at the nearly-empty beach, I dip my fingers just below his waistband. “Or pants.”
“Ruby.” His tone is lightly scolding. “Are you putting the moves on me? Right here on a public beach?”
“And if I am?” I tease. “Do you have a problem with that?”
He regards me solemnly for a second. Then he pulls me to his chest and kisses me. When we break apart, he’s smiling. “Absolutely not. I will never have a problem with that. You can put the moves on me any time you want.”
Glancing past Micah, I notice a family with two little kids walking close to the waves.
One of the kids—a little girl, it looks like—keeps darting into the water and racing back out, laughing like crazy every time.
She reminds me a little of myself when I was that age, and rather than feeling sad about it, my chest fills with warmth.
She’s making memories. Memories she’ll hopefully carry with her for the rest of her life. And maybe, like me, she’ll come back as an adult to create new ones with her own family.
Family.
Mine might not look the same as it did back then, but I have a family, just the same. I have Jordan and Kylie and Grace. I have Sofia and Evie. I have four overprotective big brothers in Rogue, Wraith, Houdini, and Jester.
I have Sampson and our new puppy, Piper.
And Micah. The most important person of all.
Love swells large inside me as I look into Micah’s eyes. “I suppose I probably shouldn’t tear your clothes off right now. But once we’re back in our room…” I trace the ridges of his stomach muscles before pulling my hand out from beneath his shirt.
“Rue.” His voice goes low and rough. “Now I want to pick you up and take you back right now.”
“I guess we could watch the sunrise from the beach tomorrow,” I say. “If you want to carry me back to the hotel room, I wouldn’t say no.”
Micah hesitates before shaking his head. “No, we’re already out here. And these guys”—he angles his head at Sampson, then Piper, who are both eagerly sniffing the air with their ears perked and tails wagging—“certainly like it out here.”
“They do,” I agree. Reaching down, I give Sampson a quick scratch between his ears. Piper notices immediately and nudges my hand with her head.
“I didn’t forget about you,” I tell her as I stroke her sleek head. “You love the ocean, don’t you?”
Her tail whips into a frenzy. “I’d say that’s a yes,” Micah says with a laugh. “Although I can’t say I’m surprised. Labs are known for loving the water.”
I unwind Piper’s leash from around my hand, giving her more leeway to explore.
I won’t let her off-leash like Micah will do with Sampson, since Piper’s still a puppy.
For a ten-month-old, she’s doing extremely well—she knows all her basic commands, and according to Micah, she’s picking up defensive skills quickly.
It’ll take at least another year until she’s fully trained in personal protection, but already, I feel safer when she’s with me.
It was about a month after everything went down with Henry at the condo, and Micah and I had just moved into our new brownstone, when Micah brought up the topic of getting a second dog.
“How would you feel about getting your own dog?” he asked.
“We could have it trained to provide personal protection and to help with your PTSD. Plus, with our new backyard, we’ve got the room.
And I bet Sampson would like someone to play with. ”
I knew Micah wanted the dog for his own reassurance as much as for me.
He worried when he had to go out of town for work, or when he brought Sampson along with him on a job.
He’d always coordinate to have his friends come to check on me, even if he was only gone for a night.
If I had a personal protection dog that would always be with me, he’d worry a little less.
And I knew it would make me feel better, too.
So I said yes. And Micah contacted a guy he knew from the Army, Griffin, who works out in central New York as a K9 officer for the Syracuse PD.
Griffin knew someone who bred and trained labrador retrievers, so he made some calls, and within a matter of days, Micah and I were headed out to Rochester to meet Piper.
“She’s got a great temperament,” Briar, the trainer, told us. “Eager to please, highly trainable, and she’s fairly calm for the breed. I think she could be exactly what you’re looking for.”
And that was that. We made arrangements to adopt Piper, and two weeks later, we brought her home for good. Now it’s the four of us, living in a brownstone just down the street from Rogue and Sofia, and honestly, I’ve never been happier.
“I’m so glad we could find a place that let us bring the dogs,” I say, smiling at Piper as she watches a seagull with avid interest. “I would have hated to leave them at home.”
“We’ll always find a place that accepts the dogs,” Micah replies. “I’ll make sure of it.”
We both turn towards the water, going quiet at the splendor of the brilliant sunrise reflecting over the ocean waves.
The sky looks as perfect as a painting, awash in warm golds and oranges and shadowed with blue.
A small flock of seagulls darts across the sky, calling to each other.
Down the beach, a childish voice can be faintly heard exclaiming, “Oooh, look at the colors!”