Epilogue - Lila
Two weeks later
“Hi sweet girl,” I coo.
Ember moves toward me while Willow stands back, sees it’s me, and returns to nosing the hay I put out.
I run my hand down Ember’s neck. She leans into my touch the way she’s been doing since she found her legs. She’s dark and glossy and perfect, and sometimes I stand here looking at her and thinking about the fact that she almost wasn’t here. A fire meant to kill me nearly took her instead.
The stables are fully repaired now. New sprinkler system with a backup. Maksim went a little overboard with fire-resistant materials in the rebuild. He wasn’t taking any chances.
Outlaw watches me from the next stall over with her usual skeptical expression. She’s become a very easy horse to ride. For me, anyway. She still hates everyone else. That’s fine. I like that she and I have an understanding.
I hear footsteps and smile.
Maksim comes through the stable doors with his hands in his pockets and his collar open. He looks healthy.
It took longer than he wanted and shorter than I thought possible given his state when we pulled him from the warehouse.
He tried to go back to work in four days.
I basically had to sit on him. Not that I minded.
Turns out, there are many sex positions that work without him having to do much.
It kept him in bed, allowing him to heal.
Maksim leans over and kisses my cheek.
“She’s getting big.”
“She’s going to be tall. Gus thinks she’ll be close to sixteen hands.”
“Like her mother.”
“Taller, maybe.” I scratch behind Ember’s ear. “She’s got Willow’s temperament, but she’s more curious. Willow is careful. Ember just walks directly into whatever she wants to know about.”
He glances at me sideways. “Sounds like someone I know.”
He reaches out and runs a hand along Ember’s jaw.
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
“Good.”
“Going to the club?” I ask.
“In a bit.”
I tell myself it’s fine. He’s got security. The Albanians are no longer a problem, but I will never stop worrying about him.
“I have something for you,” he says.
“Yeah?”
He pulls a large envelope from behind him and holds it out.
It’s thick. Official-looking. The seal in the corner makes my stomach drop.
University of Miami — College of Arts and Sciences
I look up at him.
“Open it,” he says.
My fingers are clumsy. I work the envelope open and pull out the papers. It takes me a second to understand what I’m looking at.
A letter of acceptance to the pre-veterinary advising track of a program that I never applied to. But this is Maksim, and he has a tendency to cut through red tape when he feels inconvenienced.
“This fall,” he says.
I stare at the letter. My name is at the top. The formal language of the acceptance letter blurs a little. I blink hard.
“They let me in,” I say.
“Of course, they let you in.”
“Maksim, I barely graduated high school.”
"I know." He meets my eyes. "I know your heart is set on the University of Florida, but it will take time. You’ll need prerequisites first. Four years of them. And this way, you can be close to home and the horses while you study."
"You can make that happen?"
“I already did.”
“You start in the fall.” He tilts his head slightly. “Haven’t you learned by now?”
“Learned what?”
“That you will have anything you want.” He says it without arrogance.
I’m still learning that that’s what life with him is like.
“You spoil me,” I tell him.
“I’m aware.”
“It’s excessive.”
“I know.”
I fold the papers carefully and slide them back into the envelope. I hold the envelope against my chest and look at him. “Thank you.”
“There’s one more thing,” he says.
“Don’t tell me you bought the degree,” I joke. “I do actually need the education.”
He laughs and then gives a short whistle.
Gus appears from around the corner. He’s leading a horse I’ve never seen.
She’s snowy white with a regal walk that makes it appear like she’s floating. She’s so beautiful. Like something out of a fantasy movie. A unicorn without the horn.
“What?” I’m unable to take my eyes off her.
“Lipizzan,” Maksim says. “Six years old. She’s got an attitude, and the breeder doesn’t want to deal with her.”
Gus brings her forward. Where he sees attitude, I see curiosity. Her ears are forward, and her dark eyes sweep the stable.
“Her name is Snow,” Maksim says.
I hand him the envelope and walk toward her. She watches me come. I stop a few feet away and let her read me. She takes her time. Her nostrils flare, and her head flicks, swishing her glorious mane. I reach out with my palm up and wait. She stretches her neck and presses her nose against my palm.
“Hi,” I whisper.
She blinks at me with long eyelashes that are impossibly black against her white coat. I step closer and put my hand along her jaw, then her neck. She doesn’t pull away.
I think I might be crying.
“She’s mine?” I ask.
“She’s yours.”
I turn to look at him. He’s watching me with so much love in his gaze that it hurts. How could he have ever thought I could live without him?
“Maksim.” I have no words.
He hands Gus the envelope and walks toward me.
And then he goes down on one knee.
The air leaves my body.
“What are you doing?”
“I think it’s obvious,” he says.
“We’re already married.”
He looks up at me. “I didn’t ask you the first time. I made a decision, I put a ring on your finger, and I called you my wife. It served a purpose. But now, you have a choice.”
My throat is so tight that I can’t swallow.
“I don’t have another ring. What I’m giving you is a horse, because you are a woman who would rather have a horse than a diamond.”
Snow shifts behind me, and I feel her warm breath against the back of my neck.
"Marry me. Not because of a debt or a contract or a war.
Not because it solves a problem. As soon as I pulled you out of that club, I knew I wasn't giving you back.
I didn't understand it then. I do now. Choose me because you love me.
And because I love you. You are the bravest, most infuriating woman I have ever known.
You ran into a burning building for horses that couldn't save themselves. You came back for me when you should have run. I will never get over you.”
I can’t breathe.
“I want to spend the rest of my life showing you how loved you are."
I look at the man who saved me. The man who willingly chose to give up his life so I could live.
“Yes,” I say. He doesn't move for a second; he just looks at me.
Then he smiles.
I go down to my knees and take his face in my hands. He lets me. I kiss him once, slowly, then pull back just far enough to see his eyes.
“I love you,” I tell him.
“I love you, voinitsa.”