Epilogue 1 Kelly
The house is quiet in that soft, peaceful way that only happens after a long day. It’s the kind of quiet that feels earned.
I pause in the hallway for a second, tugging the hem of my tank top down over my stomach and pushing damp hair off my shoulders. My skin still smells faintly like soap and the cedar body wash J.T. uses—I love it.
Behind me, the bedroom door opens, and he steps out.
My husband.
The word still feels new enough to send a little thrill through my chest.
J.T. is wearing a pair of gray sweats that hang low on his hips and an old black T-shirt that stretches across his broad shoulders.
Apparently, the man owns about three hundred suits and the same number of flannels and jeans, but zero pajamas.
He catches me looking, and one corner of his mouth lifts.
“Somethin’ funny, Honey?”
I shake my head, smiling.
“Just admiring the view.”
His green eyes warm instantly, the intensity in them softening in that way that still makes my heart skip.
God, I love this man.
The thought settles into me now without fear or hesitation.
Before I can say anything else, a voice floats down the hallway.
“Are you guys coming or what? The movie’s starting!”
Evan.
I laugh and glance toward the living room where the television glow spills into the hallway.
“Looks like we’re being summoned,” I say.
J.T. grunts.
“Bossy kid.”
But he’s smiling.
We walk into the living room together.
Evan is already sprawled across the couch in his baseball pajamas, a massive bowl of popcorn balanced in his lap like he’s been guarding it with his life.
The Jurassic Park theme music swells dramatically from the television. I have no idea which number this is in the iconic movie collection.
“About time,” he says.
I settle onto one side of the couch, tucking my flannel pajama pants under my legs while J.T. drops onto the other side with the heavy sigh of a man who’s worked hard all day.
The couch dips slightly under his weight.
Evan immediately scoots closer to him.
Of course he does.
“Move over, kid,” J.T. mutters, reaching into the popcorn bowl.
“You take up too much space,” Evan fires back.
I watch them bicker with a smile tugging at my mouth.
Eventually, the two of them settle—Evan half leaning against J.T.’s arm while they both shovel popcorn into their mouths like they’re competing.
Steam curls from the mugs of tea sitting on the coffee table.
Outside the big living room windows, the mountain stretches out into the dark, the trees whispering softly in the night breeze.
The pond down the slope reflects the moonlight, and somewhere out there the swans rustle in the reeds.
Woodhaven.
Home.
Not the life I planned.
Not even close.
But it’s better.
So much better.
J.T. reaches over absentmindedly and drapes his arm around the back of the couch behind me, his fingers brushing my shoulder.
It’s such a simple thing. But the warmth of him settles into me like something permanent.
I lean into him without thinking. He presses a kiss to my temple, rough and familiar and full of quiet affection.
On the screen, dinosaurs start chasing screaming scientists through the jungle.
Evan cheers like it’s the greatest moment in cinematic history.
J.T. chuckles low beside me.
And as I sit there beside the two of them—popcorn crunching, tea warm in my hands, laughter filling the room—I realize something that makes my chest swell.
This.
This right here is the life I didn’t know I was waiting for.
It’s my family—even though it might not look the way I once imagined.
Somehow, it feels exactly the way it’s supposed to.
Because J.T. loves me in a way I didn’t think anyone ever could.
Steady. Fierce. Unshakeable.
And on this quiet mountain in Woodhaven, wrapped up in the warmth of the people who matter most—life feels pretty damn perfect.