Epilogue
ELARA
Five Months Later
My engagement ring glistens in the sun as I sit on the back porch, watching Mira and Rhett practice with the bow and arrow. Mira has absolutely loved moving in with Rhett, especially because it gives them so much more time to shoot.
Rhett is shirtless, the sun dancing off his sculpted body. As he draws the bow, I see the bullet scar tightening on his arm, drawing my mind back to those crazy, chaotic days.
But my mind never stays there for long. And I won’t let it get trapped there today. Life is too good that there are butterflies dancing in my belly.
“Wait,” Mira says, as Rhett steps forward to collect the arrows. “I want to shoot one first. Can I? I’ve got a special arrow.”
“A special arrow?”
“Yeah-huh.”
“Okay, then…”
Mira turns, gives me a wink, then walks over to the arrows and searches through them. When she finds the right one, she takes her shot, hitting the bullseye.
“Nice shot!” Rhett says, and Mira beams.
Rhett goes to collect the arrows, his muscles shifting with each step. He pulls the arrow loose, tilts his head, then holds it to the sun. When he sees Mira has strapped a pregnancy test to it, he spins.
Mira giggles and throws her hands in the air. “I’m going to have another brother or sister!”
Rhett rushes over to Mira, scoops her up, then runs over to me and pulls me into the best three-person hug in the whole universe.
“We’re going to be the best family,” he says excitedly, hugging us tight. “You hear me? The best. Whatever happens, I’m going to be there for you, for both of you, always.”
“I love you,” I say, burying my face in his neck and breathing in his manly scent.
“I love you too,” he says huskily. “More than anything, Sunshine. More than life itself. I love you… and you, Mira.”
“I love you too!” Mira beams.
It’s a perfect moment, one that doesn’t need to be photographed, one we don’t need to find the light for.
The light is within me. And in my perfect, happy baby sister. And the man of my dreams.
The light is in my belly, ready to meet the most loving parents and aunt they could ever hope for.