Epilogue Two - Reaper
Six Months Later
The pier is quiet tonight, lit only by the soft glow of strung white lights that sway gently in the evening breeze.
The rest of the world feels far away. It’s just Isabella and me at the end of the weathered boards, the marsh stretching out on one side and the dark Atlantic on the other.
The moon hangs low, silver light glinting on the water like scattered diamonds.
This pier has become our place. We come here often to talk and be together. Tonight, it’s where I’m going to ask her to spend the rest of her life with me.
I stand behind her, my arms wrapped around her waist, her back pressed to my chest. She leans into me, her head resting against my shoulder, and for a long moment we simply breathe together, listening to the soft lap of waves against the pilings and the distant call of night herons.
My heart is pounding harder than it did during any mission, but my hands are steady.
I turn her slowly in my arms until she’s facing me.
The light catches in her hazel eyes, turning the gold flecks to liquid fire.
She looks at me with that mix of warmth and quiet strength that still undoes me every single time.
“Isabella,” I say, my voice low and rough with everything I feel for her. I reach into my pocket and pull out the small velvet box I’ve been carrying for weeks. When I open it, the ring catches the moonlight, a delicate band with a central emerald flanked by tiny sparkling diamonds.
I drop to one knee right there on the weathered boards, the wood cool and solid beneath me. The pier lights cast a gentle glow across her face as I look up at the woman who changed everything.
“You came into my life like a storm I never saw coming,” I tell her, the words coming from somewhere deep.
“You broke every wall I built. You made me want things I swore I’d never have again—trust, partnership, a future that wasn’t just the next mission.
You taught me that love doesn’t make you weak.
It makes you fight harder. It makes you better. ”
I swallow, my throat tight. “You make me better, Bee. Every day. You stand beside me when I try to push you away. You fight for us even when I’m too stubborn to see it. You see every scar, every flaw, every mistake I’ve made, and you still choose me.”
My voice drops even lower, raw and honest. “I love you, Isabella Monroe. Will you marry me? Will you be my partner, my wife, my forever?”
Tears shimmer in her eyes, but she’s smiling that bright, fearless smile that first hooked me and never let go. She nods, then laughs through the tears, the sound soft and full of joy.
“Yes,” she whispers, then louder, voice trembling. “Yes, Jax. A thousand times yes.”
I slide the ring onto her finger. It fits perfectly. The moment it settles, something deep inside my chest clicks into place.
I rise to my feet, pull her into my arms, and kiss her.
It’s full of every promise I never thought I’d be able to make.
She kisses me back with the same fire, her hands framing my face like she’s afraid I might disappear.
Her fingers thread through my hair, and I taste salt from her happy tears on her lips.
When we finally break apart, foreheads pressed together, I whisper against her mouth, “I love you, Bee. So much it still scares me sometimes.”
“I love you, too,” she breathes, eyes shining. “My partner. My forever.”
We stand there under the moonlight, wrapped in each other, the pier lights twinkling softly behind us and the marsh whispering below. The Lowcountry night wraps around us, peaceful and endless.
I kiss her again, slower this time, letting the moment sink in. Her body melts against mine, warm and real and mine. When we pull back, I rest my forehead against hers one more time.
“Ready to go home, Bee?” I ask, my voice thick with everything I feel.
She smiles, bright and certain. “Absolutely, Reaper.”
We walk back down the pier hand in hand, the lights guiding our way.
***