Epilogue
Bailey
Rhett dips the oars into the water and pulls them back, sending the rowboat forward, slow and steady. I lean into my seat and nudge the brim of my hat down to block the morning sun from my page.
I hardly got any sleep last night.
Rhett’s just finished building the primary suite of the main house, and we finally got to wake up in it after spending our first night in there.
Just a mattress on the floor for now, but we’ll take our time moving the rest of our furniture in.
Neither one of us wanted to wait one more day before getting to try the room out.
I use the term ‘wake up’ lightly, since there wasn’t much sleep going on for either one of us.
Before finishing that part of the house, he’d added a flagstone path from the sliding doors in the bedroom down to the dock, so we could walk right out to the boat each morning.
Fishing poles and coffee in hand. Building a second little boathouse for the woodie is next, but for now, we both prefer the rowboat in the morning.
It’s so quiet out here, you can hear a fish tail slap the surface from a quarter mile away.
And the sound of the woodie’s motor would just drown all that out.
“We’re going to need to churn up some drama at some point,” I tell him, grinning at my view. “Or my editor is going to start telling me that my books are getting soft.”
He shakes his head and lets out a laugh, but doesn’t agree.
“I like it like this,” he says, rolling the sleeves of his jacket up to his forearms. The blue in his eyes is always so light out here, reflecting off the water, that it’s nearly translucent in the morning.
Not a dark shadow or shade in sight. “You’re going to have to find inspiration for your books elsewhere. ”
“Maybe for the drama, but not the other parts,” I answer in a low voice. “You’ve given me enough spicy material to last a lifetime. Maybe two.”
He laughs and pulls the oars back again, pushing us toward our favorite fishing spot just off the big rock we used to sit on together when we were younger. It’s still the best little-known fishing hole on the lake.
We spent almost every weekend in Cedar Shores for the first year after all the publicity from the stalker died down, flying back and forth from the city, before realizing there was no reason to leave.
Once Savannah’s family agreed to sell us one of the only waterfront plots left on the lake, Rhett started building the house by hand, teaching himself every step as he went, while calling in professionals to teach him whatever he couldn’t figure out himself.
One of the carpenters mentioned that he’s welcome to work with him once the house is done.
The place is turning out beautiful — a resume in itself.
Even Axel was impressed when he came to visit us last fall.
None of us wanted to buy the pair of old cabins from our parents when they’d offered, and they’d ultimately decided to keep them once Rhett and I let them know we were planning to move here full-time, while keeping my apartment back in the city as our vacation spot.
We wanted to leave the memories intact, the good and the bad, while starting our own set of memories in our new house on another part of the shoreline, a mile down from theirs.
A fish tail cuts the surface of the water ten yards out, and I drop the book to my lap. The fish has attached itself to his line, and we both know what’s coming next.
The grin he gives me from the head of the rowboat hasn’t grown old, and I’m positive that it never will.
I grin back and pump a hand over my head with a little cheer. “That’s your third one this morning,” I tell him, as he begins to reel it in.
“Do you think you’ll ever want anything else but this?
” he asks as he pulls the slippery thing inside the boat.
He finishes tying it to the string with the others over the side, then washes his hands in the lake.
We’ll grill it for dinner over the fire later tonight.
Then, maybe sit in the hot tub after a trip to the grotto.
“I never wanted to leave,” I remind him. “Will you?”
The boat rocks gently when he leans in to kiss me.
“I’ve been everywhere I want to be,” he says. “And seen everything I want to see. This is the only view I’ve ever wanted to return to.”
His answer stretches my grin wider, and I study his eyes — loving the peace that fills them whenever we’re out here on the water together.
“Was it worth it?” I ask, suddenly wondering.
“I already know my answer is going to be yes, but which specific part are you asking about?” he asks.
“Leaving all the danger behind,” I say. “I know you felt like your purpose was always going to be wrapped up in helping other people.”
“I am helping other people,” he answers.
I squint, holding an extra hand up to shield my eyes from the sun.
“How?”
“I knew I never wanted to see that look in your eye again after everything went down with that guy. So staying out of danger is probably the biggest help I can be when it comes to you. And you matter the most to me.”
I like that answer.
“You don’t feel like something is missing in your life because of it?” I ask. It’s crossed my mind before that this — us living our fantasy life up here in Cedar Shores — might just be a stop on the way to his next grand adventure.
But he sets his pole down and slides closer.
“This plot twist, the one that has us ending up here, is my happy ending,” he says. “I can’t imagine anything better.”
Without warning, he drops a knee in the puddle on the bottom of the boat, and my heart begins to pound.
“Marry me, Bailey. Make me the happiest, most predictable man on the planet. Let me take care of you for the rest of my life.” He takes a little box out, hidden in the pocket of his jacket, and pulls it open. There’s a delicate gold band wrapped in tiny diamonds all the way around it.
I gasp and throw my arms around his neck while the boat gently rocks, kissing him at least five times before shouting, “Yes, yes, yes!” My voice echoes out in every direction, sending birds flying up off the surface across the lake.
He slips the band around my finger and it sparkles beneath the sun.
Another little cheer breaks the quiet morning from across the water.
When we glance toward the sound, that adorable elderly couple we saw on the first morning we came back to Cedar Shores is cheering for us in their own little boat. The woman, with the same wide-brimmed hat, and the man, with the same old fishing pole.
She sets her book down on her lap to cheer with both hands raised over her head, just like she does each time her husband reels in a fish, but this time it’s for us.
We beam and cheer back.
I hold my left hand up over my head.
“Congratulations!” they call out together.
“Thank you!” Rhett and I call back in unison.
I’m beaming when I turn back to him.
“I always wanted to be her when I grew up,” I tell him, pointing at the other boat.
He laughs.
“I had the same thought about him. Might as well be us in thirty years.”
“I’m so glad you came back,” I tell him, pulling him in.
“And I’m glad you never gave up on this place—” he kisses me — “or on me.”
“Never,” I tell him.
We row the boat back to our little house, grinning at each other the whole way, while my eyes bounce back and forth between the gold band wrapped around my finger and the blue in his eyes. I can’t wait to get him back to that silly mattress on the floor.
“I don’t know how you managed to catch three fish with this just sitting in your pocket,” I tell him, looking down at the ring.
“Because imagining the look on your face has been my favorite part of every morning these last few days,” he answers.
My jaw drops. “You’ve had it with you every morning we’ve come out here?” I ask.
“I kept feeling like I needed a big moment to propose. I kept trying to come up with one, but nothing else felt right.”
“What made you decide on today?” I ask, wondering what would have made this normal day feel like the one to propose.
“Because I realized that watching each morning unfold — you here with me — is going to be my favorite part of our life together. These mornings and moments that look ordinary to everyone else will be what I look back on at the end of my life with you.”
My eyes fill all over again.
“I couldn’t agree more,” I tell him, as one tear spills out.
And as we pass all the old, familiar sights stretched out across the water — the town glowing in the early morning sun, and the cabins we left behind — I realize that at some point, the magic of this place never left.
It was always here, just waiting to be found again.
And that now, our story, and the collection of all these most ordinary moments, will forever get to be a part of the magic we feel whenever we’re here. Just as real as the glittery stardust in the sand, and the love that we never lost for each other.
THE END