Epilogue
WOLFE
TWO MONTHS LATER
I wait until Rosario’s clears out on a Tuesday night.
Sal is behind the bar wiping things down when I walk in by myself. He looks at me, peers behind me, and frowns.
“Where’s Eva?”
“Home. I came by myself.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to ask you something.”
He puts the rag down and pours me a ginger ale without asking. He hands me the glass and leans on the bar with both arms.
My pulse throbs, tiny sweat beads popping up on the back of my neck. I tried planning out my side of this conversation but kept coming up empty. So I figured I’d just go into it without a plan for the second time in my life, the first time being the night when I told Eva I loved her.
Seems like anything and everything about Eva has the power to throw me into a complete tailspin.
“I want to ask Eva to marry me,” I blurt out. “And I want your blessing before I do it.”
Sal stares at me. His mouth drops open, then snaps closed, his dark eyes widening. He grips the edge of the bar and lets out a breath that shudders his whole chest.
“You’re serious,” he says.
“I’m serious.”
“You want to marry my sister.”
“More than I’ve ever wanted anything.”
He looks down at the bar and gives his head a shake. When he looks back up, his face is flushed, and his jaw is tight, and his glassy eyes tell me he’s fighting to hold it together.
“Yeah,” he says, his voice thick. “Yeah, Wolfe. You have my blessing. Now, come here.”
He comes out from behind the bar and captures me in a crushing hug. I let him because this moment belongs to him as much as it does to me, and despite the fact that I can’t really breathe, it feels nice to be accepted by someone so special and important to the woman I love.
“I need to tell you something,” he says when he finally pulls away.
“When Eva went to prison, I thought I’d lost her.
Not physically. But the version of her that laughed and trusted people and believed things could be good…
I thought that woman was gone forever.” He swallows hard.
“Then she met you. And I watched that woman come back piece by piece. The laughing. The trusting. All of it.”
“Sal—”
“I’m not done.” He smiles. “You take care of her. Not the way she takes care of everyone else, where she carries everything and never asks for help. You take care of her in a way that lets her breathe. She deserves that.”
“She does. And I will. I swear.”
He lets go and wipes his eyes with the back of his wrist. “Okay. So how are you going to do it?”
“I’m taking her to my cabin on Saturday. I want to do it there. I have the perfect spot.”
“The cabin.” He nods slowly. “That’s good. That place means something to both of you.” He’s quiet for a second. “What about the ring?”
“I picked out a few, but I haven’t—”
“Gold. Not silver.” He says it fast, like he’s been holding it back.
“Mom’s ring was gold. A simple band. Nothing flashy.
Eva used to try it on when she was a kid and spin it around her finger because it was too big.
” His eyes mist over again. “If you show up with some giant diamond, she’ll think you don’t know her. Get something simple.”
That’s better than anything my brain would have produced. “Thank you.”
“And Wolfe? When you do it, don’t overthink the words. Just say what’s true. Eva doesn’t need a speech. She needs to see your face when you say it.”
I nod. We sit at the bar for another twenty minutes and he tells me about a new dish he’s working on, and for the first time since I started planning this, the knot in my chest loosens.
On Thursday afternoon, I meet Cillian on the basketball court at the house.
I feel bad because I’ve missed more games than I’ve made in the past couple of months.
First the operation prep, then the gunshot, then the recovery that took longer than I wanted it to.
Cillian gave me shit about it every single time I’d miss and I think it’s because beyond basketball, he missed our time together. I know I have.
My shoulder still pulls when I shoot, but my brain has figured out how to compensate. I adjust the angle and put more into my wrist. The ball drops through the net at about the same rate as before.
Different mechanics, same result.
Cillian misses his third shot in a row and swears under his breath. My brain can help him too, but he just refuses to listen.
“You’re thinking too much,” I tell him.
“I’m not thinking at all. That’s the problem.” He grabs the rebound and tries again. It skims the top without going in. “This rim is crooked.”
“The rim is fine. Your elbow is jutting out.”
“My elbow is perfect,” he snaps.
“Your elbow has never been perfect.”
He flips me off and takes another shot. It goes in this time, and he celebrates like he just won a national championship.
“I need to tell you something,” I say, passing him the ball.
He catches the ball and tucks it under his arm. “I can tell. You’ve got that look.”
“What look?”
“The one where your brain is running at full speed, but your mouth hasn’t caught up yet.” He dribbles once. “Spill. Whaddya got?”
“I’m going to propose to Eva this weekend at the cabin.” I look at him. “And I want you standing next to me when I get married. You know, if she says yes.”
“If she says yes.” He snorts. “The woman drove a long way to yell at you after you got shot for her. She’s going to say yes.” He drops the ball, and it bounces away across the court. “And you’re asking me to be your best man.”
“Yeah.”
His face breaks into a grin and he crosses the court and grabs me, and my shoulder protests, but I don’t pull away because Cillian hugs the way he does everything. All in. No holds barred.
“How are you gonna do it?” he asks, stepping back. “Please tell me you have a plan and you’re not just going to hide it in her bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios.”
“I have a plan,” I say. “But that was an interesting idea, C. Nice work. But my plan is to take her to a clearing behind the cabin. It’s about a ten-minute walk through the trees and there’s an incredible view that goes on for miles. I’ve never shown it to her.”
“Good. That’s good.” He picks up the ball and spins it between his hands while he thinks.
“Okay, here’s what you do. Don’t just walk her out there.
Make it part of the day. Cook something.
Sit on the porch. Let the afternoon be normal.
And then when the lighting gets good, I think girls call it golden hour or some shit like that.
It’s like, sunset. Ask her to take a walk with you.
She won’t suspect anything if it comes out of a regular day. ”
“I like it.” I nod my head. “That’s actually good.”
“I have my moments.” He takes a shot, misses, and chuckles. “And Wolfe? When you get to the clearing and you pull out the ring, don’t give her a speech. Just tell her the truth. Your brain is gonna want to write a script. Don’t let it. Just say what’s in your heart.”
“Sal said the same thing.”
“You already talked to Sal?”
“I asked for his blessing first. I wanted to do this the right way.”
Cillian’s grin softens into something real. “That’s the right move. That’s exactly the right move.” He bounces the ball across the court and over to me. “I’m happy for you, bro. You deserve this.”
“Thanks.”
“Now onto the first order of business as best man. Bachelor party.”
“No. Don’t even think about it.”
“What do you mean no? You can’t have a wedding without a bachelor party. It’s in the Constitution.”
“It’s not in the Constitution,” I say, letting out a sigh as I sink my next shot.
“It should be. I’m thinking Vegas. Or Miami. Somewhere with a pool and bad decisions.” Cillian tears after the ball and dribbles it down the court.
“I’m not going to Vegas.”
“Fine. Not Vegas. But I’m planning something, and you don’t get veto power. That’s the deal when you ask someone to be your best man. You hand over the bachelor party and you accept whatever comes.”
“That’s terrifying.”
“It should be. I’ve been waiting my whole life for this.” He grabs the ball and spins it on his finger. “And my speech is going to make people cry.”
“Please don’t make people cry.”
“Too late. I’m already writing it in my head. There’s a whole section about how you eat cereal for dinner.”
“Cillian.”
“And the Honey Nut Cheerios she moved then put back before you freaked the fuck out. The people need to hear about the Honey Nut Cheerios box, Wolfe.”
“The people do not need to hear about the Honey Nut Cheerios box.” I run after him and steal the ball while he’s yammering on about my meal choices.
“They absolutely do. It’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever done, and you didn’t even do it on purpose. That’s going in the speech.”
I take a shot. Nothing but net. He shakes his head.
“Show-off,” he says.
“Whatever. I’m compensating.”
“For what?”
“The hole in my shoulder.”
“You need new material.”
“I got shot, Cillian.”
“Jesus, it was months ago. Get over it.”
I laugh. He grins.
Neither of us talks for the rest of the game. We just play. And for about an hour, my brain doesn’t think about anything except the ball and the rim and the fact that my brother is going to stand next to me on the best day of my life.
It’s Saturday. The day.
I blow out a breath and stare out the window at the setting sun.
We spent the day the way Cillian told me to.
It’s been normal and easy. I made breakfast. Eva read on the porch.
We cooked lunch together and she insulted my knife work because she thinks she’s some kind of pro since she carries one with her all the time.
I told her that hacking a computer takes more precision than hacking up a vegetable, and she threw a piece of carrot at my head.
Gold streaks paint the sky, and I nod. We’re a go.
The ring has been burning a hole in my pocket since this morning, pressing against my thigh, and now it’s finally time to give it to her.
“Walk with me,” I say from the front doorway.
She looks up from the couch. “Where?”
“There’s something behind the property I’ve never shown you.”
“Something good or something I need my knife for?”
“Enough with the fucking knife.” I roll my eyes. “It’s something good. Probably.”
“Probably.” She puts her book down and stands up. “Okay, that works. Lead the way.”
We put on our coats and walk outside, heading for the trail through the trees.
We don’t talk much, just enjoying the fresh air and the scenery.
Her hand finds mine, and I hold it, the ring pressing against my leg with every step.
The clearing opens up at the top of a small rise ten minutes into our walk and Eva stops short when she sees it.
The trees thin out and suddenly there’s nothing in front of us other than open land and green hills and a boldly colored sky so expansive it doesn’t feel real.
You can see for miles up here. And I love it because there are no people, there’s no noise, and nothing to process but the sheer beauty of nature.
“Holy shit, Wolfe,” she breathes out my name. “How long have you known about this?”
“Since I bought the place.”
“And you’re just showing me now?”
“I was waiting for the right time.”
She turns to look at me. And I watch her expression as she reads mine. Her eyes drop to my hand, which is already in my pocket, gripping the ring so hard my knuckles hurt.
“Wolfe.” Her voice drops. “What are you doing right now?”
My brain wants to build a script. It tries. I feel it happening. The words organizing themselves into something structured and precise and completely wrong for this moment.
I let it crash. I let the system fail. Because Sal was right, and Cillian was right, and the best things I’ve ever said to this woman came out when my brain got the hell out of the way.
“I’m bad at this,” I say. “I’ve always been bad at it. I built a plan for losing you before I figured out how to tell you I loved you. My brain writes backup plans, and my mouth can’t get three words out in the right order.”
“Wolfe—”
“But I know some things. I know my head goes quiet when you’re next to me. I know I bought two chairs for my porch before I knew you existed. I know that every good thing in my life started the night I sat on your stoop and you told me to get lost.”
Her eyes gloss over, her hands trembling at her sides.
I pull the ring out. Gold band with a simple diamond in the center. Nothing flashy. Something I think Sal and her mom would approve of. I drop to my knee on the cold ground and hold it out so that the facets glitter under the setting sun.
“Eva Moreno. Will you marry me?”
A tear slips out of the corner of one eye.
“Gold,” she whispers with a sniffle. “It’s gold.”
I nod. “Sal told me about your mom’s ring.”
Her face crumbles. Not in the sad way, though. In the way that something you stopped hoping for shows up anyway and you don’t know what to do with it.
“You talked to Sal,” she whispers, wiping away the tears that continue to fall.
“I asked for his blessing.”
“Of course you did.” She’s laughing now and crying at the same time. “Of course you went to my brother first because that’s the kind of man you are and I should stop being surprised by it, but I can’t. You really are incredible, Wolfe.”
“Is that a yes?”
She kneels down in front of me, grabs my face with both hands, and kisses me. Hard. The kind that makes my shoulder ache and my heart slam against my ribs and my brain go completely, perfectly silent.
“Yes,” she says against my mouth. “And that’s a fact.”
I slide the ring onto her finger, and it fits because I guessed the right size.
Thank God.
Her hand is in mine. The ring is on her finger. And my brain, for once in my life, has nothing to add.
It’s perfect. She’s perfect. And I’m done overthinking it.
Cillian’s story is next - are you so excited? I mean, we’ve ALL been waiting for him and Luna to finally get it on, am I right?