Epilogue
The kitchen is filled with the scent of freshly baked bread I’ve finally gotten right—after burning my last ten attempts—and the sound of laughter. The kind of easy laughter that comes with years of love, healing, and finding joy in all the small things.
Kinsley stands beside me at the sink, drying off a plate as we both stare out of the open window, watching the chaos unfold in the backyard.
Wes is out there, trying to teach the boys how to throw a football—such a man thing to do, such a dad thing to do. Something I always pictured Cam doing.
But at least our son has Wes.
Mathew Westly Hayes, Matty as we call him, is running full speed across the yard, trying to tackle little CamCam—Wes and Kinsley’s four-year-old son. Matty is bigger, stronger, but CamCam is quick, darting around like a little lightning bolt.
I knock on the window, shaking my head. “Mathew! You’re bigger than him! Be careful with your cousin!”
Before Matty can respond, Cocoa barrels into both of them, knocking them to the ground in a tangle of little limbs and loud giggles.
And then Wes, in true Wes fashion, flops down into the grass with them, turning it into a Matty and CamCam vs Wes wrestling match.
Cocoa is getting her licks in wherever she can, tail wagging furiously.
Kinsley sighs beside me, crossing her arms. “The boys are officially outnumbering us now.”
I smirk, nudging her. “Technically, it’s tied if you count Cocoa.”
We both laugh, and for a moment, I let myself just be in this feeling, in the warmth of the sun coming through the kitchen window, in the sounds of our kids laughing, in the sheer blessing of having them all here.
Not a day goes by that I don’t think about Cam. Not a single day passes that I don’t miss him, don’t wish he could see this life he helped create. But having Matty—watching him grow, seeing his wildness, his energy, his pure love for everything—has been like watching Cam as a child all over again.
He looks just like him, but more than that, he feels like him. His spirit, his fire, his goodness. He’s here. In Matty. In everything.
Just then, the boys come rushing inside, breathless and pink-cheeked from running. Matty tugs at my shirt, eyes bright with excitement.
“Mommy, can we go see Daddy today?” His voice is eager, full of something so innocent and beautiful. “Please? I made him a new drawing.”
CamCam bounces beside him, holding up a tiny race car. “Yeah! I wanna see Uncle Cam too! I gotta show him my new race car—Daddy got it for me at the store!”
I kneel down, cupping Matty’s face in my hands before pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Of course we can, baby. We can visit Daddy anytime you want.” I smooth back his light brown curls, smiling at them both. “Let’s eat lunch first, then we’ll head over before it gets dark, okay?”
They both cheer, running back to the table, already arguing over who gets to sit where.
* * *
The sun is starting to set as we make our way through the familiar path, the boys running ahead, Matty clutching his drawing in his hands.
When we reach the headstone, Matty kneels down, carefully placing his picture in front of it, smoothing out the edges. He doesn’t even hesitate—just starts talking, like he always does. Like his dad is right there, listening to every word.
“Hey, Daddy! I made this for you! It’s me, Mommy, and you.
Oh, and Cocoa! ‘Cause mommy says she’s a part of the family too.
” His little fingers tap the paper, pointing out each figure.
“Mommy keeps saying I look just like you. She shows me pictures a lot. But I think I’m way faster than you probably were.
I got my speed from mommy.” He grins. “I wish you were here, Daddy. I wish we could play, and you could see me throw a football. Uncle Wes showed me how.”
CamCam plops down in the grass beside him, rolling his car over the stone. “Uncle Cam, look! This is my fastest race car ever! It’s red, just like Lightning McQueen! Do you like it?”
Wes and Kinsley stand next to them, Wes’s arm wrapping around Kinsley’s waist, pulling her close as he whispers something to her. And I just sit there, on the opposite side of his headstone, talking to Cam, where no one else can hear me.
“I wish you could see this love. I wish you could see the life you helped build—the one you made possible, even without being here. I wish you could see how much of you is in Mathew, how much of your fire and love and laughter lives in him. It’s like I get to have a piece of you with me still every day.
” I take a deep breath before continuing.
“I have some news,” I whisper. “Wes and I—we finally got all the funding and resources to start the Cameron Hayes Foundation, the one you used to dream about starting. Wes has been working so hard to get everything in place at the hospital—the things you wanted for the kids, for the families going through what we did.” I swallow past the lump in my throat.
“I think it’s given him something to hold onto.
A purpose that’s still connected to you.
And he’s making it happen, Cam. You’re making it happen. ”
I let my hand trail down, fingertips grazing the cool stone.
“Mathew is about to start school,” I say softly.
“I’m not ready for it. I wish you were here to take him on his first day, to hold my hand when I start crying the second he walks into that classroom.
He’s so much like you. I see it more and more every day.
And if he carries even a fraction of the love and passion you had, I know he’s going to be unstoppable.
He’s definitely going to be trouble.” I blink up at the sky, smiling through my tears. “I love you.”
The wind picks up slightly, rustling the trees, and for a moment, I swear I can feel him. Just like I always do when I come here.
In the warmth of the air. In the laughter of our son. In the love that surrounds us, even now.
Because love like this doesn’t die. It lives on. In the people we leave behind. In the memories of us they carry. In the hearts that still beat with the rhythm of the love we gave them.
You gave me everything.