Epilogue
Three Months Later
Gabriel was in his aging room, turning wheels of Tomme, when his phone buzzed.
Marnie: I'm at your driveway. Should I be concerned about the chickens?
Gabriel: They're friendly
Marnie: They're surrounding my car
Gabriel: They're welcoming you
Marnie: This is terrifying
Gabriel smiled and wiped his hands on his apron. He'd been expecting her, she was spending the weekend, meeting his brother properly, helping with the farmers market on Saturday, but he hadn't expected her early.
He walked outside to find Marnie sitting in her car, windows up, staring at the chickens with a mix of fascination and concern.
He knocked on the window. She rolled it down an inch.
"They're just chickens," he said.
"They have very aggressive energy."
"That's Henrietta. She's dramatic."
Marnie looked at the largest chicken, who was indeed staring at her with what could only be described as judgment.
"I don't think she likes me."
"She doesn't like anyone. It's part of her charm." Gabriel opened the door and shooed the chickens away. "Come on. I'll protect you."
Marnie climbed out, immediately moving close to him. "I grew up in the suburbs. We didn't have livestock."
"They're not livestock. They're family."
"That's worse."
He kissed her, right there in the driveway, chickens and all. She melted into it like she always did, and Gabriel felt the same rush he'd felt that first time on the deck in Tadoussac.
Three months in, and it hadn't faded.
"I missed you," she said against his mouth.
"It's been four days."
"Still counts."
They'd settled into a rhythm, weekends alternating between Niagara and the Townships, video calls most evenings, texts throughout the day. It wasn't perfect. Some weeks were harder than others. But they were making it work.
"Come on," Gabriel said. "I want to show you something."
He led her to the fromagerie, past the production room, and into a small office that Marnie had never seen before.
"What's this?" she asked.
"Your workspace."
She looked around. There was a desk, a comfortable chair, and a window overlooking the pasture. A small shelf with some of her favorite books, ones he'd noticed in her apartment and quietly ordered.
"Gabriel..."
"You said your lease is up in two months. And you've been talking about maybe finding something with a home office, since you're doing more remote work now." He leaned against the doorframe. "This isn't pressure. It's just an option. If you wanted to be here more. If you wanted to..."
"Move in with you?"
"Eventually. Maybe. If you want to."
Marnie walked around the room, touching the desk, the books. When she turned back, her eyes were bright.
"This is really fast," she said.
"I know."
"We've only been together three months."
"I know."
"Most people would say this is crazy."
"Probably."
She crossed to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I love it."
Gabriel's heart stuttered. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. I mean, I need to think about it. Make lists. Consider the logistics." She smiled up at him. "But I love it. I love that you thought of it. I love that you're crazy enough to offer."
"Is that a yes?"
"It's a 'let me panic for a few days and then probably yes.'"
"I'll take it."
She kissed him, soft and sweet. "I love you, you know."
It was the first time either of them had said it.
Gabriel pulled back to look at her. "What?"
"I love you. I've been wanting to say it for weeks, but I was waiting for the right moment, and then I realized..." She laughed. "I realized there's no perfect moment. There's just now. And I love you."
Gabriel felt something huge and warm expand in his chest. "I love you too."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Have for a while now."
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"I was waiting for you to be ready."
"I'm ready." She kissed him again. "I'm so ready."
* * *
That evening, they sat on Gabriel's back porch with wine and cheese, and Maurice curled up in Marnie's lap. The sun was setting over the pasture, painting everything gold.
"Can I ask you something?" Marnie said.
"Always."
"How would you describe the tour in one word?"
Gabriel smiled. He remembered that moment, Kayla filming the wrap-up, asking that exact question.
He'd said "unexpected."
Marnie had said, "perfect."
"Actually," he said now, "I'd change my answer."
"To what?"
He looked at her, at the woman who'd spent three months learning to be spontaneous, who still made lists but didn't panic when plans changed, who'd driven three hours to spend a weekend on his farm and seemed genuinely delighted by it.
"Beginning," he said. "I'd say it was a beginning."
Marnie's smile was soft, certain. "Good answer."
"What about you? Would you change yours?"
She thought for a moment, then shook her head. "No. Perfect still works."
"Even with the bus breakdown and the wine spills and the ex-boyfriend?"
"Especially with those." She leaned her head against his shoulder. "The mess is part of it. That's what makes it real."
They sat in comfortable silence, watching the sunset fade to twilight. From inside the house, Gabriel could hear his brother moving around in the kitchen, probably preparing something elaborate for dinner.
"Hey, Gabriel?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For teaching me that not everything needs a plan. That sometimes the best things are the ones you don't see coming." She looked up at him. "That sometimes you just have to trust."
Gabriel kissed her temple. "You taught me some things too."
"Like what?"
"Like how to make a proper spreadsheet. Like the importance of backup plans. Like..." He paused. "Like how being careful and being brave aren't opposites. Sometimes being careful is the bravest thing you can do."
Marnie's eyes were bright again. "You're going to make me cry on your porch in front of the chickens."
"Henrietta would judge you."
"She already does."
"Then you're fine."
She laughed, soft and real, and Gabriel felt it again, that quiet, steady certainty in his chest.
Marnie leaned in. "For the record, I'm still glad I ate that grilled cheese."
He grinned. "I'm glad you’re here to remind me of it."
"Even if I'm terrifyingly organized?"
"Especially because you are."
She kissed him, slow and smiling. "Love you anyway."
"Love you more."
From the driveway, they heard a car pull up. Tante élise, arriving for dinner. She'd met Marnie once before, during that first nervous weekend visit, but tonight felt different. Official. Like Marnie was being welcomed into the family for real.
Gabriel raised a brow. "Ready?"
Marnie took a breath. "No. But I'm walking into it anyway."
"That's my girl."
They stood, hand in hand, and turned toward the house, toward family, toward future, toward whatever came next.
The End