Epilogue
This is My Life
Liam
M y heart thumps wildly against my ribs. Breathe, Liam. Fucking breathe.
I tighten my grip on Hannah’s hand as Cam adjusts his stance on the pitcher’s mound, rolling the baseball between his long fingers. The kid’s focus is laser-sharp, his dark brows drawn together in concentration beneath the brim of his blue and white uniform cap.
“Come on, Cam,” Hannah whispers beside me, her voice barely audible over the crowd’s murmurs. “You’ve got this.”
The late afternoon sun beats down on the bleachers, making sweat trickle down my spine despite the occasional breeze rustling through the trees surrounding the old elementary school field. The air smells like cut grass, hot dogs, and the particular brand of summer excitement that only small-town baseball can bring. I breathe it all in, willing my nerves to settle.
Cam winds up, his form damn near perfect after weeks of practice, and releases the ball with a snap of his wrist. It zips across the plate, a beautiful fastball that makes a satisfying thwack as it hits the catcher’s mitt. The batter from Piketon’s team swings wildly, missing by a mile.
“Strike three! You’re out!” the umpire bellows, punching the air with his right hand.
The crowd erupts around us, parents and siblings from Beaver jumping to their feet, shouting Cam’s name. I’m on my feet too, cupping my hands around my mouth to make sure my voice carries.
“That’s my boy! Hell yeah!”
Hannah tugs at my shirt, laughing. “Language, Liam.”
“Sorry.” I grin, not sorry at all. I’ve never been so damn proud in my entire life. “But did you see that pitch? Perfect form.”
The Piketon kid trudges back to his dugout, shoulders slumped in defeat as Cam’s teammates surround him, slapping his back and cheering him on. It’s the bottom of the ninth inning, the scoreboard showing a nail-biting 4-3 lead for our team. Two outs down, one more to go.
“If they win this game, they’ll be in first place in the league,” Hannah says, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement as she tucks a strand of honey-brown hair behind her ear. “Can you believe it? Cam’s only been playing organized baseball for a few months.”
“Kid’s a natural,” I reply, unable to keep the pride from my voice.
I glance over at my brothers, sprawled across the bleachers a few rows behind us. Warren’s engaged in what looks like intense debate with Garret, probably analyzing Cam’s technique. Those two can turn anything into a science experiment. Mac and Ash are acting like complete fools, waving a homemade sign that reads “CAM THE MAN” in garish red and blue letters. Even Christian’s here with Amelia and their four-month-old daughter, Chrissy, bundled against his chest in one of those baby carrier things, looking surprisingly comfortable for a guy who once swore he’d never have kids.
My family. All here for my son.
The thought still blindsides me sometimes—how quickly everything changed, how much I gained after thinking I’d lost it all. Six months ago, I was alone in my childhood home, drowning in responsibilities, wondering if I’d ever have more than stolen glimpses of Hannah and the son I never knew I had. Now, we’re building a life together, filling Hannah’s childhood home with new memories, waking up beside each other every morning. It still feels like a dream sometimes.
I turn my attention back to the field as the next Piketon batter steps up to the plate. He’s a big kid for twelve, with shoulders already starting to broaden, a determined set to his jaw. Their cleanup hitter. I recognize his stance from earlier in the game when he nearly knocked one out of the park.
My stomach knots. “Hannah, that’s the kid who—”
“I know.” She cuts me off, squeezing my hand so hard her nails dig into my palm. “Just breathe, honey.”
I try to follow her advice, but my heart’s hammering so hard I’m surprised the people around us can’t hear it. Cam seems to recognize the challenge too. He adjusts his cap, takes a deep breath, and nods at whatever signal the catcher’s giving him.
The pitch comes fast and low—a perfect strike that catches the corner of the plate. The batter watches it sail by, clearly surprised by the movement on the ball.
“Strike one!” The umpire calls.
The bleachers around us shake as people stomp their feet and cheer. I can hear Mac’s distinctive whistle cutting through the noise, and Grams’s voice rising above the din. “That’s my great-grandson!”
Cam squares his shoulders, winds up for the second pitch. It’s higher this time, and the batter swings, making contact with a sharp crack that sends the ball screaming down the third base line.
“Foul ball!” The umpire shouts as the ball lands just outside the line.
Hannah’s grip on my hand tightens further. “I can’t watch,” she murmurs, but her eyes stay glued to our son.
The crowd settles into a tense hush, the entire field holding its collective breath. Cam takes his time for this next pitch, adjusting his grip on the ball, eyes narrowed in concentration. I notice how he subtly shifts his fingers, and I recognize what’s coming next—the curveball Tanner Koch’s been teaching him.
Of all the people to end up coaching my son’s summer baseball league, it had to be my high school rival’s younger brother, Tanner. The black sheep of the Koch family, the one who runs the only convenience store near Beaver where we can buy beer. He’s been my family’s enemy for a lifetime, but that ended when Christian married Amelia.
The man knows baseball, I’ll give him that. And he’s been surprisingly good with Cam, patient and encouraging in ways I never would have expected from a Koch.
Cam goes into his windup, and I hold my breath as he releases the ball. It looks like it’s heading straight for the batter’s chest, but then it breaks at the last second, diving across the plate.
The batter swings hard—too hard—and connects. The ball rockets off his bat in a line drive that shoots straight back toward the mound faster than Cam can react. My heart stops as the ball zips past my son’s ear, missing him by inches.
“Jesus,” I mutter, my body instinctively tensing as if I could somehow leap onto the field to protect him. But Cam’s fine, already focused on the play unfolding behind him.
The ball bounces once on the infield dirt before the second baseman—a scrappy kid named Tyler—scoops it up in one fluid motion. He pivots and fires to first base, where Jake Parker stretches to his full height, his foot planted firmly on the bag.
The runner sprints down the line, cleats kicking up dust as he lunges for the base. The ball smacks into the first baseman’s glove a split second before the runner’s foot hits the bag in a cloud of red dirt.
For one eternal moment, the entire field freezes, waiting.
“OUT!” The umpire finally shouts, and the crowd explodes.
Hannah launches herself into my arms with a shriek of joy, and I lift her off her feet, spinning her around as the bleachers erupt in chaos around us. My brothers are on their feet, whooping and hollering like madmen. Even Warren, usually the most reserved of us all, has his arms raised in victory.
On the field, Cam’s teammates swarm him, lifting him onto their shoulders as parents and siblings pour out of the stands, rushing to congratulate the team. Tanner Koch stands off to the side, arms crossed over his chest, but even from here I can see his satisfied smile.
“They did it!” Hannah says against my neck, her voice thick with emotion. “They actually won!”
I set her down gently, keeping one arm around her waist as we make our way down the bleachers toward the field. “Never doubted them for a second,” I say, though we both know that’s a lie. My stomach’s only just now unclenching.
“Liar.” She laughs, elbowing me lightly in the ribs. “You were as nervous as I was.”
“Yeah, well, can you blame me? That line drive nearly took his head off.”
Hannah’s smile falters slightly. “Don’t remind me. I think I stopped breathing for a second there.”
“He’s got good reflexes.” I assure her, though I make a mental note to talk to Cam about fielding those comebackers. Maybe we should practice that more in the backyard.
We reach the edge of the field just as the team sets Cam back on his feet. His face is flushed with excitement, his cap askew, exposing the dark hair he inherited from me. When he spots us, his grin widens, and he breaks away from his teammates to sprint toward us.
“Dad! Mom! Did you see that?” He shouts, crashing into us with full-body enthusiasm. “Did you see Tyler’s throw? It was perfect!”
I ruffle his hair, pride swelling in my chest until I think it might burst. “We saw, buddy. You were incredible out there. That last strikeout was a thing of beauty.”
“The curveball was working today, huh?” Hannah adds, wrapping her arm around his shoulders despite his half-hearted attempt to squirm away. At twelve, he’s at that age where public displays of affection from his mother are becoming embarrassing, but he still leans into her touch.
“Coach Tanner said it was the best one I’ve thrown all season,” Cam says, his eyes bright with excitement. “He says if I keep practicing, I could make the travel team next year.”
“Is that something you’d want?” I ask carefully. Travel ball means more practices, weekend tournaments, longer drives. It’s a bigger commitment, but if it’s what Cam wants I won’t stand in his way.
“Yeah!” Cam’s enthusiasm is contagious. “Coach says I have potential. Real potential, Dad.”
“Then we’ll make it happen.” I promise him, squeezing his shoulder.
Hannah catches my eye over Cam’s head, her smile soft and knowing. We’ve had this conversation before—about giving Cam every opportunity, about making sure he knows he’s supported in whatever he wants to pursue. It’s important to both of us that he never feels the way I did growing up, with a father who was physically present but emotionally absent, or the way Hannah did with Charlie, controlled and stifled.
“Cameron!” A voice calls, and we turn to see Tanner approaching, his clipboard tucked under one arm. “Great game today, kid. That curveball’s really coming along.”
“Thanks, Coach!” Cam beams, straightening his shoulders under the praise.
Tanner nods at Hannah and then turns to me, extending his hand. “Liam.”
I take it, still marveling at how strange it feels to be on civil terms with a Koch after so many years of animosity between our families. “Tanner. Good game.”
“Your son’s got a natural arm,” he says, and there’s genuine respect in his tone. “With some more training, he could be something special.”
“I’ve been working with him at home,” I say, unable to keep the pride from my voice. “But his curveball? That’s all you. Thanks for taking the time with him.”
Tanner shrugs, but I catch the slight smile that tugs at his mouth. “The kid’s got talent. Be a shame to waste it.”
After a few more minutes of baseball talk, Tanner heads off to gather the rest of the team. Cam bounces on his toes, practically vibrating with leftover adrenaline.
“Can we get ice cream to celebrate?” he asks, looking hopeful between Hannah and me. “Frank’s has that new caramel brownie flavor.”
“Of course we can,” Hannah says, exchanging a look with me that makes my heart skip. “You earned it, MVP.”
As we walk toward the parking lot, my family falls into step around us—Grams moving slower but refusing any help, my brothers trading jokes, Christian and Amelia trailing behind with their baby. The weight of Hannah’s hand in mine anchors me in a way I never thought possible.
Six months ago, I was drowning in regrets. Now I’m watching my son play baseball, building a home with the woman I’ve always loved, surrounded by the chaos and love of my family. I still don’t know how I got so lucky. But as Hannah leans her head against my shoulder, her smile soft in the fading afternoon light, I make a silent promise to never take any of it for granted.
Not bad for a guy who nearly let it all slip away.
The smell of sizzling beef and hotdogs fills the air as I lean against the wooden post that normally holds the “Street Closed” sign for the Oktoberfest. Today it serves a different purpose—marking the boundary of our impromptu victory celebration. My eyes scan the crowd spread across the blocked-off section of the street between Frank’s Frosty Kreme and A Cut Above. The whole damn town seems to be here, laughing, eating, and celebrating our summer league’s unexpected winning streak.
It’s moments like these that make me forget the weight I carry as the oldest Mutter brother—the responsibility, the constant worry, the need to keep everything together. For just a few hours, I can breathe easier and simply enjoy watching my family be happy.
“Here.” Hannah appears at my side, pushing an ice-cold beer into my hand, condensation already forming on the bottle. “You look like you could use this.”
I take the beer, but I’m more interested in the woman offering it. The afternoon sun catches in her hair, giving it an almost golden glow that makes my breath catch. Even after all these months together, she still has that effect on me.
“Thanks, sweetheart.” I slip my free arm around her waist, pulling her close to press a kiss to her temple. She fits perfectly against my side, like she was made to be there. “Having fun?”
She smiles up at me, and I swear my heart skips a beat. “More than I’ve had in years.”
I know what those words mean—the weight behind them. For thirteen years, Charlie stole her joy, her freedom, her sense of safety. The thought still makes anger bubble up inside me, but I push it down. Charlie’s gone—still in prison and likely to stay there for a good long while. Hannah and Cam are safe. They’re mine to protect now, mine to love, mine to build a future with.
“Dad! Dad! Watch this!” Cam’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. I look up to see him balanced precariously on Mac’s shoulders, with Ash spotting them from behind. Before I can even process what they’re planning, Mac launches Cam into the air. He somersaults impressively before landing in Ash’s waiting arms.
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, my heart suddenly in my throat.
Hannah laughs beside me. “Relax. They’ve been practicing that all week at the swimming hole.”
“And you knew about this?” I ask, giving her a mock-offended look.
“Maybe.” She shrugs innocently, but her eyes sparkle with mischief. “You can’t protect everyone all the time, Liam. Sometimes you have to let them have a little fun.”
There’s wisdom in her words that hits deeper than she probably intends. I’ve spent my entire life trying to protect everyone—my brothers after Mom died, the family business when Dad couldn’t handle it, Hannah and Cam when Charlie hurt them. Maybe it is time I learned to loosen my grip a little.
“Don’t look now,” Hannah murmurs, nodding subtly across the street, “but I think hell might have frozen over.”
I follow her gaze and nearly choke on my beer. Linden and Tanner Koch—the same men who spent years making the Mutter family’s life difficult, the family we feuded with for generations—are cooing and making faces at little Chrissy, Christian and Amelia’s four-month-old daughter. Tanner is holding her up in the air while she giggles, her little legs kicking with excitement.
“Well I’ll be damned,” I say, unable to keep the surprise from my voice. “Who knew all it would take was a drooling baby to end the Mutter-Koch feud?”
“It’s not just any baby.” Hannah points out. “It’s Amelia’s baby. Their niece.”
When Amelia Koch fell in love with my brother Christian it forced both families to reconsider their positions. The relationship had been tense at first, with the older Koch brothers refusing to accept it. But in a crazy turn of events, Christian saved Amelia from a near kidnapping.
Then little Chrissy’s arrival changed everything. Nothing melts stubborn male pride quite like a tiny girl with her mother’s eyes and her father’s crooked smile.
“I never thought I’d see the day.” I admit, watching as Linden takes his turn holding Chrissy, his normally stern face transformed by a gentle smile. “Remember when he tried to get the zoning board to shut down our garage?”
Hannah leans her head against my shoulder. “People change. Sometimes they just need the right reason.”
I look down at her, suddenly struck by how much we’ve all changed in the past year. Hannah is stronger now, more confident. Cam is thriving on the baseball field. My brothers are settling down one by one, finding love and purpose. And me? I’ve finally learned that some burdens are meant to be shared, not carried alone.
“Heads up!” Someone shouts, and I instinctively pull Hannah closer as a frisbee sails over our heads, narrowly missing us. Mac chases after it.
“Sorry!” Mac calls back, not looking sorry at all as he tosses the frisbee to Sophia, who catches it with a grace that makes him stare a little too long.
“Some things never change.” I chuckle, watching as Mac nearly trips over his own feet trying to impress Sophia. “He’s still the same kid who broke Mrs. Wilson’s window showing off his fastball.”
Hannah laughs, the sound warming me more than the summer sun. “He paid to replace it, though. That’s growth.”
“True.” I take a sip of my beer, letting my eyes wander over the celebration again.
Frank’s manning the grill with Grams supervising, both of them arguing good-naturedly about the proper way to cook a burger. Warren and Jason, one of Amelia’s brothers, are setting up an impromptu water balloon station for the kids, filling dozens of colorful balloons from a garden hose. Garret and Charlotte sit at one of the picnic tables with Rayne between them, the three of them looking every bit the perfect family as they share a massive ice cream sundae.
And then there’s Christian, standing protectively near Amelia as she chats with her brothers, his eyes constantly drifting back to his daughter in Tanner’s arms. He looks good—healthy, clear-eyed, solid. Sobriety suits him, as does fatherhood. The change in him over the past year has been nothing short of miraculous.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Hannah asks, bringing me back to the present.
I smile down at her. “Just thinking how lucky we all are. How much has changed.”
Before she can respond, Ash zooms past us, chasing Andrea who’s laughing and holding what appears to be his phone hostage. He catches her easily, spinning her around and planting a quick kiss on her lips before reclaiming his phone and dashing back to where Cam and some of the other kids from the baseball team are waiting.
I notice Clara standing near the ice cream counter, watching the exchange with a wistful expression that makes my heart ache for her. She’s been in love with Ash for as long as I can remember, but my brother remains oblivious, bouncing from one short relationship to another while his best friend pines silently from the sidelines. Though Ash has been with Andrea for a while now. He’s taking his relationship with her seriously.
“She should just tell him,” I mutter.
Hannah follows my gaze and sighs. “It’s not that simple. She’s afraid of losing his friendship if he doesn’t feel the same way.”
“Ash wouldn’t let that happen.”
“Maybe not intentionally, but things change when feelings are involved. Not everyone is as lucky as we were, getting a second chance.” Hannah squeezes my hand. “Give her time. Some stories take longer to unfold.”
I nod, hoping she’s right. Clara deserves happiness, and if I’m honest, so does Ash. He might be having fun with Andrea now, but I’ve never seen him look at her—or any of his girlfriends—the way I catch Clara looking at him.
“Want to grab some food before the vultures descend?” Hannah asks, gesturing toward the grill where Frank is starting to plate the first batch of burgers.
“Lead the way.” I allow her to tug me through the crowd, nodding and exchanging greetings with neighbors and friends as we pass.
This is my life now, I realize with a sudden surge of contentment. Not just the garage or taking care of my brothers, but this—Hannah’s hand in mine, Cam’s laughter ringing out across the street, the entire town coming together to celebrate something as simple as a summer league baseball winning streak. This sense of belonging, of community, of family that extends beyond blood.
We grab plates and load them up with burgers, fries, and all the fixings. Frank insists on giving us extra everything, winking at Hannah as he piles more fries onto her plate than any human could possibly eat.
We find an empty picnic table and eat our food in comfortable silence, watching the celebration unfold around us. Christian and Amelia have reclaimed Chrissy from her uncles and are sitting with her in the shade, Christian making silly faces that have the baby giggling. Garret and Charlotte are dancing to the music playing from someone’s portable speaker, Rayne sandwiched between them in an awkward but joyful family shuffle. Even Dad has emerged from his usual isolation, playing checkers with some of the older men from town under the awning of the salon.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Hannah says softly. “Seeing everyone happy, together.”
“Yeah.” I agree, my eyes finding each of my brothers in turn. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted for them. For all of us.”
Hannah’s hand finds mine, warm and familiar. “You’ve done a good job, you know. Taking care of everyone.”
I shrug off the compliment, uncomfortable as always with praise for something that feels like my duty, not a choice. “Someone had to step up with the way Dad checked out.”
“But it didn’t have to be you.” She points out gently. “You were just a kid yourself.”
“I was the oldest,” I say simply, as if that explains everything. And in my mind, it does. Being the oldest comes with responsibilities, with expectations. It means putting others first, making sure everyone is taken care of, even if it means sacrificing your own wants and needs.
Hannah studies me for a long moment, her eyes soft with understanding. “You know what I admire most about you?”
“My rugged good looks?” I joke, deflecting as I always do when conversations get too serious, too close to the vulnerable parts I’ve kept guarded for so long.
She rolls her eyes, but smiles. “Besides that. It’s the way you love. Completely, without reservation or condition. You give everything to the people you care about—your time, your energy, your heart. It’s… rare.”
Her words catch me off guard, settling somewhere deep inside me. Is that how she sees me? Is that what I do? I’ve never thought of it as a choice or a virtue. It’s just… who I am.
“I don’t know any other way to be.” I admit quietly.
“I know.” She leans her head against my shoulder. “That’s what makes it special.”
We finish our food in thoughtful silence. The sun is starting to set in earnest now, casting long shadows across town. Someone has strung up fairy lights between the lampposts, and they’re beginning to twinkle in the gathering dusk.
I’m struck suddenly by how perfect this moment is—how complete I feel with Hannah beside me, Cam safe and happy nearby, my family surrounding us. For so long, I carried the weight of responsibility alone, convinced that was my lot in life. Now I understand that sharing the burden doesn’t make it heavier. It makes it bearable. That letting people in—letting Hannah in—hasn’t weakened me or distracted me from my duties. It’s made me stronger, more capable of being the man my family needs.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Hannah asks, nudging me gently. “You’ve got that look.”
“What look?”
“The one where you’re thinking too hard about something.” She taps my forehead lightly. “I can practically see the gears turning.”
I catch her hand, bringing it to my lips to press a kiss to her palm. “Just thinking about how lucky I am. How things worked out.”
She smiles, but there’s a question in her eyes. She knows me too well to believe that’s all there is to it.
And she’s right. There’s more—so much more bubbling just beneath the surface. Thoughts and feelings I’ve been carrying for weeks now, waiting for the right moment.
Looking around at our town, our people, our family all gathered together in celebration, I realize there won’t be a more perfect moment than this one.
“Come with me,” I say suddenly, standing and pulling her to her feet.
“Where are we going?” she asks, but she follows without hesitation, trusting me completely.
I lead her away from the main celebration until we’re far enough away from the crowd that it’s just us. It’s quieter here, the sounds of laughter and music slightly muted by distance.
“Liam?” There’s curiosity in her voice, but no worry. She knows I would never lead her anywhere unsafe.
I turn to face her, taking both her hands in mine. My heart is pounding so hard I’m sure she must hear it, but I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.
“Hannah.” I begin, my voice rougher than I intended. I clear my throat and try again. “Hannah, there’s something I need to tell you.”
Her eyes widen slightly, a flash of concern crossing her features. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything is perfect.” I assure her quickly. “That’s… that’s kind of the point. You and Cam, being with you, building this life together—it’s more than I ever thought I’d have. More than I thought I deserved.”
“Liam—” she starts, but I shake my head, needing to get this out before I lose my nerve.
I take a deep breath, gathering my thoughts. “For so long, I thought my role was just to take care of everyone else—my brothers, the business, the house. I figured that was my life, and I was okay with that. But then you came back, and everything changed. You showed me that I could have more, that I deserved more. That taking care of the people I love could include taking care of myself too, letting myself be happy.”
A soft smile plays at the corners of her mouth, her eyes glistening in the soft light of the setting sun. “You do deserve to be happy, Liam. More than anyone I know.”
“You make me happy.” I tell her, squeezing her hands gently. “You and Cam. And I want…” I swallow hard, my throat suddenly tight with emotion. “I want to make it official. I want to be your husband, Cam’s father in every way that matters. I want you as my wife. I want us to be a real family, legally, permanently.”
I hadn’t planned to do this here, now, without a ring or going down on one knee or any of the traditional trappings. But standing here with Hannah, watching the way the light catches in her hair and reflects in her eyes, I can’t imagine a more perfect moment.
I lean down, my lips close to her ear, and whisper, “I’m going to marry you, Hannah Baumann. I hope you’re okay with that.”
She pulls back just enough to meet my eyes, her smile radiant. “Just name the date and I’ll be there.”
Joy bubbles up inside me, so intense it feels like it might overflow. I cup her face in my hands and kiss her—deeply, thoroughly, pouring every ounce of love and promise into it. I don’t care who sees, who might be watching from the celebration just yards away. All that matters is this woman in my arms, this moment, this future we’re building together.
When we finally break apart, both breathing heavily, she’s looking up at me with such love it makes my knees weak.
“So,” she says, her voice slightly breathless, “when exactly were you thinking?”
I laugh, giddy with relief and happiness. “As soon as possible. Tomorrow, if we could pull it off.”
“Grams would kill us if we didn’t give her time to plan.” Hannah points out, her eyes dancing with amusement. “And I don’t think Charlotte would ever forgive me if she didn’t get to help with the dress.”
“Fair points.” I concede, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Fall, then? October, maybe?”
Hannah tilts her head, considering. “October would be beautiful. The leaves changing, cool enough for a long-sleeved dress but not cold. Four months to plan—that’s reasonable.”
“October it is.” I agree, already picturing her walking toward me in a white dress, autumn leaves swirling around her feet. “Small ceremony? Just family and close friends?”
“Perfect.” She rises up on her toes to kiss me again, soft and sweet. “Absolutely perfect.”
Hand in hand, we walk back toward the celebration, which shows no signs of winding down despite the deepening dusk. The fairy lights create a magical canopy overhead, and someone has started a small bonfire in a metal pit near Frank’s for roasting marshmallows.
It’s a perfect day with a perfect ending.
“I love you,” I whisper into her ear.
Her fingers stroke gently over my chest. “I love you too. Always have, always will.”
I press a kiss to the top of her head, reveling in this moment. She’s mine. My love. My family. My Soul.
And she said yes.