Epilogue
Time has a way of healing the deepest wounds, Tessa thought as she placed the final colored pencil back in its wooden case.
She stepped back from her drafting table, eyes tracing over the completed illustration—a caregiver’s gentle hands supporting an elderly woman as they walked through a garden of memories.
The last page of her journal was finally finished.
Sunlight streamed through the wall of windows Matt had built for her, casting golden light across her studio.
Two short months had transformed this space from a dream into reality—her sanctuary of creativity nestled among the aspens.
Custom shelves held her supplies, sketchbooks lined up in neat rows, and finished pieces hung on the walls, a sign of how much she’d created since making Bear Creek her home.
Home. The word still filled her with wonder.
The door creaked open behind her, and she felt Matt before she saw him—that familiar electric awareness that had only grown stronger with time.
“Finished?” he asked, his deep voice warming her from within as he crossed the room to stand behind her.
“Just now,” Tessa nodded, leaning back against his solid chest as his arms encircled her waist. The scent of him enveloped her. “What do you think?”
Matt studied the illustration over her shoulder, his breath warm against her ear. “It’s perfect,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the sensitive spot just below her earlobe. “Just like you.”
Tessa turned in his arms, tilting her face up to his. “Did I ever tell you that you say the sweetest things?”
“Once or twice,” he murmured as he brushed a strand of hair from her face.
His fingers traced the line of her jaw, and Tessa felt that now-familiar surge of love rise within her. Two months of waking up beside him, of building a life together, and still his touch affected her like the first time.
“I love you,” she whispered, the words as natural as breathing now.
Matt’s eyes darkened, his hand sliding to cup the nape of her neck. “I love you too,” he replied, bending to capture her lips with his.
The kiss was gentle at first, but quickly deepened with familiar hunger. Tessa pressed closer, her body molding to his.
When they finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, Matt rested his forehead against hers. “The journal is beautiful,” he said, his thumb stroking the pulse point at her throat. “Your mother would be so proud.”
Tears pricked behind Tessa’s eyes at his words. “I think she would be,” she agreed softly. “I hope it helps others.”
Matt nodded, understanding without needing more explanation. He had held her through the nights when memories overwhelmed her, had listened to stories of her mother until he felt like he’d known her, too.
“I have something else to show you,” Tessa said, her heart beginning to race. She’d been planning this moment for days, waiting for the perfect time.And that time was now.
She slipped from his embrace and moved to her portfolio case, removing a single sheet of paper. For a moment, she held it against her chest, suddenly nervous despite all their promises, all their plans.
“What is it?” Matt asked, his expression curious.
Tessa took a deep breath and handed him the drawing.
It was one of her best works—a nursery bathed in morning light, with a crib positioned beneath a window.
Tiny stuffed bears sat on a shelf, and a mobile of stars and moons hung above the crib.
She’d painted it in soft watercolors, every detail lovingly rendered.
Matt stared at the image, his brows drawing together in confusion before his eyes widened with dawning realization. His gaze shot to her face, then dropped to her still-flat stomach.
“Tessa,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “Are you... Are you pregnant?”
She nodded, a smile spreading across her face as joy bubbled up inside her. “I am.”
For a heartbeat, Matt stood frozen, the drawing trembling slightly in his hands. Then he let out a sound—half laugh, half sob—and closed the distance between them in two long strides. His arms wrapped around her, lifting her off her feet as he spun her in a circle, his face buried in her neck.
“A baby,” he breathed against her skin. “Our baby.”
Tessa laughed, clinging to his shoulders as the studio whirled around them. When he set her down, his eyes were shining with unshed tears, his smile so bright it could have outshone the sun streaming through her windows.
“How long have you known?” he asked, his hands moving to cradle her face.
“Just a few days,” she admitted. “I wanted to be sure before I told you. And I wanted the drawing to be perfect.”
He dropped to his knees before her, his large hands spanning her waist with such tenderness. “Hello in there,” he whispered against her stomach. “I’m your dad.”
Tessa’s fingers threaded through his dark hair as emotion welled up within her. This man—this beautiful, gentle bear of a man—had given her everything: a home, a family, a future filled with love.
She was so thankful fate had chosen this man for her. And that she had chosen to stay.