Epilogue
One year later
The lobby of Bergman’s Retreat glowed with the warm, golden light of late afternoon.
Sunlight streamed through tall windows framed by rustic wooden beams, casting patterns across the wide-planked floors.
A soft murmur of conversation rose from a pair of guests seated on one of the couches, enjoying their first welcome drink—a tradition Nat had established from day one.
She liked to ensure each guest felt like more than just a booking.
She wanted them to feel like family, even if only for a short stay.
Nat stood near the entrance, wearing a smile that came easily.
Her hand briefly brushed against the carved wood of the reception desk as she watched her receptionist, Liam, expertly guide a couple through their check-in process.
His easy manner and genuine interest made him perfect for the role, freeing Nat to focus on her true passion—the food and the bigger picture.
“Welcome to Bergman’s Retreat!” Nat greeted the new arrivals as they turned toward her. “We’re thrilled to have you here. Did Liam already mention the wine tasting tonight? It’ll feature a local vineyard, and trust me, it pairs beautifully with our small plates.”
The couple, an older man and woman with friendly smiles, nodded enthusiastically, and Nat made a mental note to reserve a table near the fireplace for them—a prime spot that guests always loved.
Once her brief conversation with the couple concluded, she made her way towards the kitchen, slipping through a discreet door behind the reception area.
The shift from the airy elegance of the lobby to the bustling kitchen was immediate, but it was a change Nat welcomed with open arms. Here, the scent of herbs and sizzling butter mingled with the crackle of heat and the rhythmic chop-chop-chop of knives.
Her head chef, Marco, a wiry man with a passion for creating flavors that danced on the tongue, was in his element.
“Evening service all set?” Nat asked, glancing around at the neatly prepped stations. Marco turned, wiping his hands on a towel.
“Running like a Swiss watch, boss,” he said. “Got the fennel-roasted pork ready for the special, and Sadie’s handling dessert prep. We’re good to go.”
Nat trusted Marco implicitly, and the two had established a great working relationship over the past two months.
“Great. Thanks, Marco. Call me if there’s anything urgent,” she said before slipping back out. There was always something to check, another detail to refine—but it was a kind of busyness that filled her with joy.
The dining room was her next stop. Set apart from the rest of the hotel’s spaces, it had been designed to evoke a sense of warmth and intimacy.
The tables were simple, crafted from reclaimed wood, and the centerpiece of the room—a massive stone fireplace—crackled gently.
Nat stooped to adjust the logs, ensuring they would burn steadily throughout the evening.
She moved to the tables, lighting candles that cast flickering light across polished silverware and delicate glassware.
The soft padding of footsteps behind her broke her concentration. She turned, a smile already forming.
“There you are.” Sofia’s voice, a warm and familiar melody, still made Nat’s stomach flutter. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“Hey, babe.” Nat smiled. “Already done for today? I thought you’d still be working.”
“I’m done.” Sofia raised a brow. “And I have a plan… Dinner together, upstairs. I’m cooking.”
Nat tilted her head. “Really? But you’re busy. We can just order something from the kitchen.”
“No, I felt like cooking…” Sofia shot her a flirty smile. “And I’ve come to whisk you away from your duties early. Come on, no discussion. You could use a break.”
Nat blushed – Sofia still had that effect on her when she looked at her like that. “I like it when you’re bossy,’ she said with a grin, closing the distance between them. “What did you have in mind for dessert?”
Sofia's eyes sparkled with mischief. “Oh, I have a few ideas,” she said, her voice low and teasing. She leaned in closer, her breath warm against Nat's ear. “But you'll just have to wait and see.”
She took Nat’s hand and pulled her toward the elevator, tapping her key card to the top floor.
They'd moved in months before the hotel opened, making it truly theirs while construction continued below. Now it was everything Nat had dreamed of – open and airy, with high ceilings and large windows that framed mountain views on three sides.
The living room centered around a stone fireplace, with comfortable leather furniture and soft throws that invited curling up with a book.
They'd created areas that reflected their individual needs: Sofia's home office occupied one corner, with two monitors and the technology she required to run her company remotely.
Nat's collection of cookbooks filled built-in shelves, alongside the novels Sofia loved.
Everything spoke of lives intertwined, of a space lived in and loved.
The kitchen, while smaller than the one downstairs, was still a chef's dream, with an island where they often shared wine and conversation while one or both of them cooked. The space held evidence of Sofia’s earlier preparations—herbs lay chopped on the counter, and a bottle of red wine was already open and breathing.
"I bought fresh pasta from that place you like," Sofia said, moving to the kitchen. "And I actually managed to make your mother's marinara sauce without burning it."
Nat wrapped her arms around Sofia's waist from behind, pressing a kiss to her neck. "I'm impressed. Though I seem to remember you said the same thing last time."
"That was different," Sofia protested, leaning back into her embrace. "I got distracted then."
"Mmm, I wonder why?" Nat teased, nipping gently at her ear.
"Because someone decided to walk around the kitchen in a little black negligée while I was cooking," Sofia said, turning in her arms. "Very inconsiderate."
Nat laughed, the sound echoing in their cozy kitchen. Sometimes she still couldn't believe this was her life – running her own hotel, coming home to Sofia most nights, building something that was entirely theirs.
Moxie appeared and wound between their legs, demanding attention. She'd grown into a beautiful cat, still maintaining her mischievous streak – guests often found her sprawled across the lobby's most comfortable chair, accepting pets like a queen holding court.
"Your daughter's hungry," Nat said, reluctantly releasing Sofia.
"Our daughter," Sofia corrected, reaching for Moxie's food.
“Oh no, she’s definitely your daughter today,” Nat shot back with a chuckle. “Today she dug out the big plant pot next to the reception desk and took a crap in it. That’s why I sent her upstairs.”
Sofia threw her head back and laughed. “That’s my girl. Oh my, how bad was it?”
“There was soil everywhere but mainly it was just great entertainment for everyone there,” Nat said, pouring wine while Sofia dressed the salad and stirred the sauce.
This had become their rhythm – sharing the daily details of their lives over cooking and wine, finding comfort in the simple act of being together.
Sofia talked about her latest project, the way she was in the process of restructuring her company to make it easier for her team to work remote, and about Zoe, who had recently moved into Sofia’s house in New York.
It was much more comfortable than her dorm, but she had been driving Sofia’s cleaner mad with her tendency to leave clothes strewn everywhere, dishes piled up, and books scattered across every available surface.
Just last week, Sofia had to call Zoe and give her a friendly but firm warning to either shape up or prepare to embrace the dorms again.
“My cleaner only comes in once a week when I’m not there, and Zoe created more mess than a whole classroom of students combined,” Sofia said, rolling her eyes as she stirred the sauce. “She promised she’d clean up, but I’m not holding my breath.”
Nat laughed, taking a sip of her wine. “You mean Zoe promised, ‘Scout’s honor’ with her fingers crossed behind her back, right?”
“Exactly!” Sofia’s voice held a mixture of exasperation and fondness. “Anyway, we’ll see how it goes. So, what have you been up to?”
Nat shared stories about the guests, about Marcus's latest culinary creation, and about her parents, who had dropped by at the hotel for a coffee after work.
Outside their windows, the sun was setting behind the mountains, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold.
Inside, their home glowed with warmth and life and love – everything Nat had dreamed of and more.
She watched Sofia move around their kitchen and her heart swelled with gratitude for the chance they'd taken on each other, for every moment that had led them here.
This was home – not just the physical space, but the feeling of completeness she found in sharing it with Sofia.
From that first snowy night at Pine Creek Lodge to now, they'd created something beautiful together.
Something real and lasting, built on the kind of love that made everything else fall into place.