"I know so. He always said life was too short to waste time on fear." I press a kiss to her hair. "He would have told me I was an idiot for almost letting you go."
"Good thing you came to your senses."
"Good thing you didn't give up on me."
"Never," she says firmly. "I told you, you're stuck with me."
Six months later, we break ground on both the Silver Ridge Safety Training Center and the expanded medical facility. Sally secures federal funding for the remote trauma center, I design comprehensive safety curricula, and together we build something that will serve communities across the region.
But that's not the only thing we're building.
On a crisp fall morning, as we stand watching construction crews pour the foundation for our shared dream, Sally takes my hand and places it on her still-flat stomach.
"Really?" I breathe, hardly daring to believe it.
"Really." Her smile could power the entire town. "Baby Reeves will be here just in time for the training center's grand opening."
I kiss her then, pouring all my love and gratitude and wonder into the connection between us. We're creating a new life while building something that will save countless others.
John would have been so proud. Not just of the safety center or the medical facility, but of the man I've become because of Sally. The man who finally learned that honoring the dead doesn't mean refusing to live.
"I love you," I tell her against her lips.
"I love you too," she whispers back. "All of us."
The future stretches before us, bright with possibility. Our child will grow up in a community where safety and healing go hand in hand, where prevention and care work together, where love builds lasting legacies.
Some endings are really beginnings. And this is the best beginning I could have ever imagined.
