Epilogue – Six Months Later
Aspen
The farm feels like home again.
Not the broken version I came back to.
Not the place filled with dust and memories that hurt too much to touch.
This one?
This one is alive.
The barn doors are open.
Fresh wood.
New beams.
Stronger.
Safer.
The floorboards?
Replaced.
But I still remember exactly where that hidden space was.
Where everything changed.
I step out onto the porch.
Sun warm on my skin.
The air is soft with summer.
And there he is.
Grandpa.
Sitting in his rocking chair.
Slower now.
Quieter.
But here.
Still with us.
Buddy lies at his feet.
Half-asleep.
One eye always open.
Still watching.
Still protecting.
“You’re up early,” I say softly.
Grandpa looks over at me.
Smiles.
The kind that still feels like him.
Even through everything.
“Didn’t want to miss it,” he says.
I tilt my head.
“Miss what?”
He gestures toward the yard.
I follow his gaze—
And my heart stutters.
Dylan is running across the grass.
Laughing.
Free.
Not looking over his shoulder anymore.
Not afraid.
Just a kid again.
And in the distance—
Havoc.
He’s working on the fence line.
Sleeves rolled.
Sun hitting him just right.
Like he belongs here.
Like he was always meant to be here.
My chest tightens.
Because six months ago—
None of this felt possible.
Not this peace.
Not this life.
Not him.
“You picked a good one,” Grandpa says suddenly.
I glance back at him.
“What?”
He nods toward Havoc.
“That one,” he says. “He doesn’t run.”
My throat tightens.
“No,” I whisper. “He doesn’t.”
Havoc looks up.
Like he felt me watching.
Our eyes meet.
And everything else fades.
Just for a second.
Just long enough to remind me—
This is real.
He walks toward the house.
Slow.
Steady.
That same confidence.
That same strength.
But softer now.
War still in him.
But not consuming him anymore.
“You’ve been staring,” he says when he reaches me.
I smile.
“Can you blame me?”
His mouth tilts slightly.
“No.”
He steps closer.
Close enough that I can feel him before he even touches me.
Then—
His hand slides around my waist.
Pulls me in.
Effortless.
Natural.
Like we’ve been doing this forever.
“You okay?” he asks.
Still asks.
Always asks.
I nod.
“Yeah.”
And I mean it.
I glance out at the land.
The barn.
The house.
The porch.
“I love it here,” I say softly.
He follows my gaze.
“I can see why.”
A beat.
Then—
“I want to get married here.”
The words come out before I can overthink them.
Before I can second-guess.
Before fear has a chance to step in.
He goes still.
Just for a second.
Then—
He looks at me.
Really looks at me.
Not surprised.
Not hesitant.
Just… steady.
“Yeah?” he asks.
My heart pounds.
But I don’t look away.
“Yeah.”
Silence.
Soft.
Not heavy.
Not tense.
Just… full.
Then—
“Okay,” he says.
Just like that.
No hesitation.
No doubt.
My breath catches.
“That’s it?” I laugh softly. “No speech? No dramatic moment?”
His hand tightens slightly at my waist.
“I don’t need one,” he says.
I tilt my head.
“Why not?”
He leans in.
Close.
Forehead brushing mine.
Voice low.
Certain.
“Because I’ve known since the moment you walked back into that Tavern… I wasn’t letting you go.”
My heart completely gives in.
No fight left.
No fear left.
Just him.
“I love you,” I whisper.
He doesn’t hesitate.
Not even a second.
“I know,” he says softly.
“Me too.”
And then he kisses me.
Slow.
Deep.
Certain.
Not rushed.
Not desperate.
Just… real.
Behind us—
Grandpa’s chair creaks softly.
Buddy huffs.
Dylan laughs.
Life moves.
Grows.
Continues.
And for the first time—
It feels like we’re not just surviving it.
We’re living it.
Together.