And then she was crying in my arms.
“Have I upset you?” I asked, worry filling my chest. I wiped the tears from her face with a finger. “I know it’s too soon, and you are human, so you don’t feel the bond. But I’ll be patient.”
“No,” she said, dashing the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. “Idofeel it! And I know, in here,” she pressed her hand to her heart, “that every word you say is the honest truth.”
“Then why are you crying?”
“Because I love you too.”
Warmth filled my chest. “You do?”
“Mm-hmm.” She sniffed. “And I’m so happy, but so scared.”
I tucked her into my body and kissed the top of her head, before resuming placing the cutlery. “I’m super happy too. But why areyouscared?” I asked with a lighter, more playful tone. “I’m the one who had to face your shotgun-toting dad. I’m the one who should be scared.”
A giggle snuck past the tears. “I bet you regret picking me up now. But honestly. I’m scared because this feels real.”
I set down the last fork, one arm still around her. “It is real. You’re mine now, Ella. And I am yours. And we’ll figure it all out together.”
Epilogue
Ella
Almostoneyearlater…
“If I see another paintbrush, I’m setting it on fire,” I declared, plopping my butt down on the cardboard box full of books.
Axel laughed. “But you said you wanted blue walls that feel like the summer sky.”
“I know, I know. But now my arms feel like wet noodles.” I lifted my arms up, then dropped them dramatically.
“That’s the price of summer sky.”
I groaned.
After months of sanding, rewiring, and retiling, we’d finally managed to turn the house Axel’s parents had left for him into something we could call our own. The final step had been the painting, and we’d just put the final layer on the kitchen walls.
He’d let me choose all the colors and hadn’t even balked when I suggested bright ones, like the sky blue in the kitchen, or dark ones, like the deep forest green in the master bedroom.
I’d started this process with an excess of energy a few days ago, but was running on fumes now. I just wanted to finally move into my new home.
After our visit with my family last Christmas, Axel had taken some time off to join me in Chicago for the New Year. At first, the plan had been for me to go visit every weekend until my lease was up. But Monday came every week, and I’d never want to go back to the city. So just four measly weeks into that routine, I’d made the big leap and moved all my stuff over.
Axel was ecstatic. And so was Mom.
We soon found that I needed a more private space to teach my online classes, especially since he also wrote his reports in the same area, so he’d set up a partition for me. But that kind of cut into the cozy charm of the cabin. Until one day, he asked ifI’d like to renovate his parents' old place with him and move in there. Technically, he could do all of his work just as well from there as he could from inside the cabin.
Cue ultimate chaos for the next few months as we juggled major renovations, work, and everything else life had to throw at us. Axel might not have known what to do with my car, but he sure knew his way around power tools. I’d never known a handyman was such a turn-on. And now we were nearly done. It felt big, like we were taking another big step forward together.
“Let’s go for dinner,” I suggested, taking a look around. “We’ve done enough today.”
“Soon,” he said. “I’ve got one more thing to do.”
“It better not involve more painting.”
“No, it’s out in the garden. Come on.” He guided me out to the back.
His dad had been an avid gardener, and despite the lack of care over the years, the bones of the garden had survived, the perennials growing strong, albeit alongside a lot of weeds. But I’d seen that before. It was the oversized swing that had me gasping.
