Epilogue
Grace
Six Months Later
Isit back in my office chair, smiling at the way it doesn’t squeak even slightly. I guess it’s the little things that make the big differences sometimes.
The sunlight shafting in through my window is hazy with clinging snow, but thankfully the central heating is blasting its warm air through the apartment like the breath of a dragon.
Ever since moving in with Harry, I’ve always felt cuddly and carefree as I sit at my desk. Harry and I share an office, our desks sitting across from each other.
Sometimes we’ll work for hours without even talking, just the tap-tap-tap of the keys and the humming of the heating to keep us company.
And other times we’ll look up and meet eyes, grinning like we’ve traveled through time and we’re teenagers again.
Today, Harry’s out, and as I listen to the heating hum powerfully through the apartment, I can’t help but think about his text.
Got some important news. Talk later x
I stand up, a pit in my belly, wondering what the heck the news could be. In my mind, I go through the catalog. My blog is doing more than well. Harry’s business is kicking ass. Kelly’s doing great, and she’s even found herself a boyfriend … for now.
I shake my head.
Jeez, as if Harry’simportant newsis going to be about my bestie.
I walk across our sleek hardwood floor into the living room, with its large ceiling-high double windows making warped patterns of the sunlight as it shafts through the snow.
I walk into the kitchen, around the marble island and to the big coffee machine, a shining metal contraption that Harry and I bought a few weeks ago. We both agreed that we drink too much coffee …
But no frickingwaywere we going to turn down this bad boy.
As I let my cappuccino brew, I place my hand on my belly, letting out a shivering sigh.
Harry’s got some news for me, fine, but I’ve also got some news for him.
That’s what’s sending nerves shivering all through my body, bouncing and ricocheting and fricking sizzling through me like anxious fire.
How is he going to react?
Is it going to throw a wrench into the works?
I listen to the whine of the coffee machine, biting my lip as I fiddle with my ponytail.
These past six months have been like a dream, one I don’t want to wake up from. But now my news threatens to upend everything. Harry and I have moved past the first stages of our relationship to something deeper, firmer …
But now, with my belly doing backflips and front flips and all kinds of fricking flips, I’m just so nervous.
I almost leap out of my skin when the door opens and Harry strides in, his tight-fitting black coat hugging closely to his body, bits of snow making salt in his deep-jet hair.
He smiles at me, tearing his gloves off with his teeth.
“Didn’t mean to scare you, sweetheart,” he says, laughing.
I dance over to him, slapping him on his oh-so-firm chest. “Scare me?” I tease, or try to. My voice comes out all wavy. “You’re joking, right? You couldn’t scare me if you tried.”
I’m trying to banter, but it’s coming out sound sort of forced, like I can’t properly form the words.
“Grace,” Harry says, sensing my change of mood.
