Epilogue
Kiora
I WOKE UP TO FRESH sweet pea flowers on my pillow and Dylan’s grumbling in the living room. It’d been half a year since that day in the farmhouse when we finally got rid of the shadow that had followed me all these years. Half a year since the mer police had found the records of every sale and started rescuing supes from the buyers. Half a year, and I still lived with my parents.
Troy wanted me to have time to process and heal before we took the next step, and maybe I saw his point. Maybe. It didn’t mean I wasn’t frustrated by all this waiting.
With the money I had saved up, I could’ve rented my own place, but there were only two places I wanted to stay at: Troy’s or my parents. So, if Troy didn’t want us moving too fast, then it left little choice.
At least it allowed me to get to know Mom and Dylan better, and I did have to get reacquainted with Mom because she wasn’t the same person.
“And maybe it looks like you’re leading her on because you are,” Dylan said a little louder than whatever he was grumbling before.
Troy must’ve come in through the front door after he had snuck in through the window to give me the flowers. Just because he said he wanted to give me space didn’t mean he could stay away.
At least he patched things up with Dylan. It went from Dylan wanting to strangle Troy to him slowly agreeing that he had been friends with Troy for a reason and couldn’t think of a better merman for his daughter, to now grumbling about us not eloping already.
I added the flowers to the vase on the side table. For the last week, Troy had been giving me flowers every day as opposed to every few days, so the bouquet was beginning to get too big for the small crystal vase.
It was time to start the day, despite it being my day off. I had gotten a new job, too. Still driving trucks, but now I only drove short distances, so I could return home in the evening and wake up to flowers in the morning.
After a quick shower, I put on a flirty dress that showed off my legs and went to greet my future husband. Because Dylan was wrong. Troy wasn’t leading me on, or any other nonsense. This was real. The fact Troy wanted to make sure we didn’t develop some codependency, or whatever, proved it.
With a content smile on my face, I waltzed into the living room where Troy and Dylan sat glaring at each other over a tray of coffee.
“Good morning,” I chirped. “What’s the plan for today?”
“How do you feel about a trip to a deserted island?” Troy asked.
We had been to the island a few times, and I absolutely loved that place, So I went straight for my purse and shoes.
“Great idea. Let’s go already.”
Troy chuckled and followed me out. As we reached the car, he handed me my to-go cup with the steaming liquid of life and the takeout box with an apple pie.
I had my breakfast on the way to the yacht. Good thing I lived in a magical town because there were plenty of witches who could heal me from the consequences of eating apple pie for breakfast almost every morning. I couldn’t help it if I liked apple pie.
When we got to the island, though, I forgot all about the pie or the diabetes it could give me. The water called to me, soothed me, sang a lullaby that only the ocean knew.
“I planted some sweet peas yesterday around Ursula.” Troy lay a picnic blanket on the rocky beach of the island I had grown to love over the last few months. Apparently, my parents had met here. “I figured I should make the place a little more yours.”
The wistful smile froze on my face. “Mine?”
Troy pulled out an official-looking document and handed it to me. When I finally read the first line, my heart picked up a too-much-coffee beat, like it was about to jump out of my chest because that was a deed to Troy’s house, and he just added my name to it.
“I don’t get it.” Why?
“When you decide you’re ready to move in, I don’t want you to feel like it’s my house. It’s ours,” he explained. “And if you’d rather we sold it and bought a different house together, then we can do that.”
In Troy speak, he thought I was ready to move in, but he was leaving it up to me. Also, in Troy speak, we were equals, and I better not forget it.
In my speak, he’d just gifted me half a house, and that was a lot, maybe even too much.
“But you bought it yourself,” I pointed out.
“Like I said, we can find another one.”
He wasn’t getting it. How could I explain it?
“You want our relationship to be an equal partnership, right?”
“No relationship is ever an equal partnership,” Troy interrupted, even though he had been trying to make it equal this whole time. “If I get sick, are you going to demand I get out of bed to do my part of the chores? No, you wouldn’t. You’d adjust the partnership in my favor and do them yourself.”
“That’s different.”
“It’s not.” He put an arm around my waist and pulled me closer. “It’s about what we can do and what we’re willing to do. I own my house. I can and I’m willing to share it with you.” He nipped at my collarbone. “What are you willing to do?”
“Okay.”
He chuckled. “That’s not the right answer to that question.”
“Okay, I’m willing to move in with you. Twist my arm, why don’t you?” I nuzzled his cheek, loving the roughness of the stubble he always had, even if he just shaved this morning. “I can’t just let you pay for everything, though. Can I cover half the mortgage?”
“I don’t have a mortgage, but you can cover some utilities.”
“So romantic.”
Troy gripped me tighter and rolled us onto the picnic blanket, trapping me under him. “You’re right.” Another nip on the neck. “We should talk about something sexier. How’s your therapy going?”
I kissed him to shut him up. We were moving in together. It had taken us half a year to get there, but we were finally moving in together. I could have him every night and every day.