Epilogue
Kirin
Winter Break
He’d been in Arizona with Rose for barely twelve hours when he realized he was dodging Elle’s gaze like it was a landmine.
Before leaving the Jeep, Rose gave him a long, expectant look, but he wouldn’t ask her to stay—this was something he could handle himself.
A small, deliberate act—with so much on her plate and Preston’s arrest creating a ripple of chaos, she didn’t need extra worry.
The news coverage had been relentless. Preston’s denied bail meant he’d remain incarcerated until the trial next year.
Reporters hounded Rose’s every move, and social media trolls—some sympathetic, some vicious—circulated commentary, old photos, rumors, and outright lies.
The university had barred reporters from campus, a measure that helped but did little to ease the anxiety Rose carried home with her every night.
Her phone, once a lifeline, had become a source of constant tension: a ping could mean support, or it could mean another reminder of the chaos Preston had left behind.
Kirin watched the subtle ways the coverage wore on her: how she avoided notifications, hesitated before answering a text, or flinched at the sound of her phone vibrating.
He had to bite back the urge to intervene, to shield her from every intrusion.
He couldn’t, and she needed him to trust her to handle herself—but that didn’t stop the ache in his chest. He reminded himself daily: being there for her sometimes meant sitting quietly beside her and absorbing the tension, not try to fix it.
After three delayed flights, both of them were running on fumes.
The exhaustion melted a little when they spotted Rose’s dad at the luggage carousel, hair tousled like he’d rolled out of bed to fetch them.
Rose flung herself at him, squeals of delight cutting through the tension of the past weeks.
Kirin couldn’t stop the smile from breaking across his face; this family, chaotic as they were, was grounding.
Their project had earned an A, thanks in part to Professor Nadae’s repeated check-ins and guidance on navigating social fallout.
They had also gained valuable insight into managing attention, privacy, and boundaries—lessons that extended far beyond the syllabus.
It wasn’t just a project anymore; it was a rehearsal for real life, and both of them felt the weight of that.
But in the Jeep’s rearview mirror, Elle’s gaze never wavered. Kirin adjusted the mirror, checked the grocery store entrance where Rose and Josie had disappeared, then reached for the radio—anything to break the tense silence. That’s when Elle began her interrogation.
“So, you smile at girls a lot,” Elle accused lightly, her delicate arms folded as she stared out her window. “That girl at the gas station, another at the coffee shop.”
“I’ve been told I smile a lot around your sister. It’s not pointed at anyone but her,” he hedged, unsure of where this was going.
Everything he said to Laurel when they were teenagers ended up doubling back on him in some horrible way.
He vividly remembered complimenting her back-to-school outfit on her first day of high school at the nudging of his mother, because he genuinely did not care what she wore.
She’d cried, then changed four times, making them both late.
Laurel taught him that teenage girls were sweet as could be one second and then that smile turned to fangs in a blink, usually when nobody saw it coming.
“So, you like her?” Elle asked, her head swinging away from the window to meet his eyes in the mirror again.
He squinted at her, wondering what her game was and if he was about to drop himself into some unknown hole. But the stiff shoulders, her furrowed brow, and the tension Elle radiated reminded him that her last experience with a guy meeting the family was Preston.
That clarified some worries.
“Okay, I understand your concern, so let’s make sure there are no questions about this.
” Kirin leaned into the mirror, ensuring Elle’s attention focused entirely on him.
“I am in love with your sister, and I am not looking at anyone except her. And to be clear, I’m not interested in anyone looking at me either. ”
Elle stared back at him, her arms tightening across her chest, but she said nothing. He wasn’t about to risk her claiming this wasn’t clear.
“Do we understand one another, Elle?” he asked, but when she nodded, he pushed again. “I’m going to need you to say you understand before you ask me anything else.”
“I understand,” she admitted, and he sighed.
The grocery doors opened in the corner of his eye, and he checked, hoping for a flash of red hair, but it was just a guy pushing a cart. Swallowing his disappointment, he glanced at Elle in the mirror again. “Good. You can ask me whatever you want.”
She didn’t say anything for a few seconds, but he could see her thinking, and he waited until she landed on, “Tell me about yourself.”
He wouldn’t guess what he thought she might want to know. “What would you like to know?”
She didn’t even hesitate; her thumbs poised over her screen in a way that made him wonder if she had a list waiting. “What’s your longest relationship?”
“One year,” he answered as Elle typed on her phone, followed by a quiet hum as she nodded to herself.
He leaned back in his seat, trying to relax as she started on her interrogation. “And how long ago was that?”
“A while. I was about your age.”
“Commitment issues?” she asked.
Kirin chuckled, “No.”
“Why no long-term commitments since high school?”
“I had an unpleasant experience with my first girlfriend, and then when I moved, I stopped dating. I didn’t meet anyone worth trying again with until I met your sister.”
Elle nodded as she dragged her thumb over her screen, and he tried not to swallow against the nerves. Is she scrolling? How many questions does she have?
“What’s your favorite quality about yourself?”
“I try to be very honest.”
Elle blinked and looked down at her phone. “What’s your favorite food?”
Easy. “Breakfast macaroni and cheese.”
He must have answered too fast, because Elle’s head snapped up. “Did Rose tell you to say that?”
“No?” His brows knitted. “Why? Was that somehow the wrong answer?”
“Favorite ice cream?” Elle pressed, ignoring his question.
“Pineapple,” he answered, and she cringed.
“Gross.”
He threw a skeptical look her way through the mirror. “Have you tried it?”
“No!” Her voice was almost a screech, like it was the worst thought in the world.
“Then you can’t say it’s gross. What’s your favorite? Vanilla bean?” he joked, and she cringed again.
“Peanut butter chocolate chunk. Mom’s favorite is butter pecan, which might as well be vanilla bean. It’s such an old person’s choice.” She stopped. “Do you know Rose’s?”
“Malted milk chocolate,” he answered, and she rolled her eyes.
“Granny flavor central. I tell her it sounds like she was going to a spring fling in her poodle skirt and Mary Janes when she orders that.”
He laughed and caught the slight tilt of her lips before she shook her head and frowned again. No sense pushing it, so he asked, “What about Josie?”
“Josie is a garbage disposal and will eat just about any flavor you put in front of her.” Elle sighed. “Dad claims it’s because she’s a growing girl, but I think she just lacks taste buds. They said I can’t take her to the hospital and have them check.”
He hummed. “My brother, Evan, is like that. I swear he ate all the leftovers I used to bring home from this diner I like. Does Josie have a least favorite?”
“You should ask Rose to make you some breakfast mac and cheese; it’s my favorite and the only thing she can cook without burning something,” Elle said, smiling slightly, as if he’d passed a test and earned the right to know the answer to his question.
Then she answered the question still lingering between them.
“Josie won’t eat pistachio, which is a crime because it’s delicious, but she threw it up once after she went on a carnival ride at the state fair and swore it was even greener the second time around so that’s off-limits now. ”
“And what about your dad’s favorite?”
“Rocky Road is all he eats,” she sighed. “It’s so unoriginal. Mom picks up a container of it every month like clockwork.”
He nodded. “Regarding the off-limits foods, any others I should know?”
“Josie’s only allowed to have one mini can of clear soda per day because she spills them and then goes haywire from the sugar.” Elle lowered her head, her tone deepening. “She will beg and plead for a second one; do not under any circumstances give it to her.”
“They have sugar-free sodas.”
“Yes, but they usually print that on the side, and unfortunately, she can read.” Elle’s tone and the look she gave him said he was a moron.
Kirin bit his lip at the droll look on her face, then focused on Elle’s reactions, noting the mix of curiosity and distrust in her gaze. She wanted to like him, maybe even trust him—but wasn’t ready to let go of caution.
A flash of auburn caught his attention, and he found Rose and Josie walking out of the grocery store hand-in-hand. Josie laughed at something Rose said, bouncing beside her big sister with a wide smile. “Okay, you might have enough time for one more question. Lay it on me.”
“What do you think about Preston?”
Kirin let out a barked laugh. The weight of the news, the social coverage, and the lingering fear of Preston’s shadow were a constant presence in their life.
He hated Preston Goodwin for what he’d done and the lasting impact it was having on Rose.
How she would tense when someone approached, flinch at a camera’s flash, or close herself off when a topic turned uncomfortable.
And yet, he wouldn’t have her in his life if Preston hadn’t been such a raging douche.
He wouldn’t know just how resilient she was.
He wouldn’t admire how she faced him, her family, the chaos of life head-on, even when it made her anxious or frustrated.