EPILOGUE
JACE
Istand at the kitchen island in our Savannah home, watching Sabine pull the last tray of cookies from the oven.
The air smells like sugar and cinnamon, mixed with the pine from the Christmas tree in the living room.
It's been one year since everything changed.
The house is small, brick exterior with a wide porch, tucked on a quiet street near the river.
We moved here six months ago, after the trials wrapped and the dust settled.
Sabine sets the tray down and wipes her hands on the apron I bought her as a joke last month—the one that says Kiss the Cook in red letters.
She catches me looking and smiles, the kind that reaches her eyes now, not guarded like before.
Her hair is longer, pulled back in a loose ponytail, and she's wearing one of my old concert sweatshirts over leggings.
She looks relaxed. Happy. It's still hard to believe sometimes.
The doorbell rings. Sabine glances at the clock and nods toward the front.
"That's Mom, right on time." Her smile is so beautiful, I have to tear myself away, but I head to the living room and open the door to find Mrs. Hart on the porch, arms loaded with a foil-covered dish and a bottle of wine.
The evening air is cool enough for the lights strung along the railing to feel festive.
"Merry Christmas," she says, stepping inside and handing me the dish. "Brought sweet potato casserole. It's a family recipe."
"Smells amazing," I tell her, taking it to the kitchen. Sabine meets her with a hug that lasts longer than usual. They've been talking more since we moved here—weekly calls, sometimes daily now too, and I don't mind one bit. I love that what was broken in her past is healing now.
We settle at the dining table I set earlier—roast chicken, green beans, the cookies cooling on a rack, and mugs of cocoa Sabine made from scratch. Steam rises from them, topped with marshmallows.
Mrs. Hart takes a sip of cocoa and looks at Sabine. "I can't believe how much life has changed in one year, baby."
Sabine meets my eyes across the table. "I know. It still feels surreal sometimes."
Mrs. Hart sets her mug down. "I"m really proud of you for everything you did, honey." She reaches over and squeezes Sabine's hand while I dig into my dinner.
"She was incredible, wasn't she?" I chime in, grinning with my mouth full of delicious food.
"Stop," Sabine says with a smile, because she hates it when I tell people how amazing she is, but it's true. And I couldn’t possibly love her more.
We eat, talk about lighter things—Mrs. Hart's garden back home, the humid Savannah summers we're still adjusting to, the stray cat that keeps visiting our porch. And Sabine refills our cocoa and passes out cookies. Chocolate chip with pecans, my favorite.
After dessert, her mother excuses herself to the bathroom down the hall and the moment the door clicks shut, Sabine is out of her chair and in my lap, arms around my neck. She hugs me tight, face buried against my shoulder.
"Thank you," she whispers. "For inviting her and making this Christmas special."
I wrap my arms around her waist, breathing her in. She smells like the yummy food she's been baking all day. "She's family."
She pulls back just enough to kiss me a deep, grateful kiss that still sets my blood on fire after a year together. Her hands frame my face, thumbs brushing my jaw.
"I can't believe you'd go through all that trouble," she says against my lips. "You risked everything for me."
I hold her closer. "There's nothing I wouldn't do for you. I mean that."
Her eyes shine in the low light, and she kisses me again, slower this time. "I love you."
"Love you too."
Sabine leans against me, head on my shoulder.
"Best Christmas yet," she says, and I have to agree.
One year later, I never thought I'd see the day, but we're here in each other's arms living life together.
No one would ever suspect I used to be a Mafia hitman, and Sabine has moved on from her army life, though she teaches self-defense classes at our local YMCA.
It's a great way to help women not end up in situations like the one she went through.
We keep in touch with Hannah and Everett, who are now dating happily, and that makes me a happy man knowing "Ham-dog" isn't gonna come after my woman.
"You know what?" I say, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
"Mmm?" she hums happily, not bothering to move even though I hear the water running in the bathroom indicating her mom is heading back this way soon.
"I want a family, Bean." I use the nickname I've adopted and smile as I think about the patter of little feet in this house in coming years. "And I want it soon… Let's have a baby."
"Are you serious?" she asks me, sitting up to look me in the eye.
"Yeah… I'm dead serious… Let's have a family. Let's start now. I want to fill this house up."
Before Sabine can respond, I hear her mother squealing with glee. She's overheard what I'm asking Sabine and is clearly delighted by it.
All Sabine can do is smile and let her eyes fill up with emotion. This really is the best Christmas ever, but next year, if we're lucky, our family will be larger by one, and then it'll be the best Christmas.
I have a feeling it only gets better from here.