“Welcome to our crazy family,” I said.
He kissed the top of my head. “There’s no other place I’d rather be, and no one else I’d rather be with.”
EPILOGUE
Lorraine
We saton our private balcony, sunlight shimmering across the Sacred Valley and lighting up the patchwork of terraces. Colourful wildflowers spilled down the hillside. The clear blue sky above us was endless. I rested back against the cushions; my legs draped over Dan’s. A mug of coca tea warmed my hands.
We were here…together.
And I never wanted my heart to forget the love and wonderment I felt with this man every single day.
I let the peace travel through every cell in my body. We’d been here for weeks, and I didn’t care if we stayed here for a few more. It was the most relaxed I’d seen Dan in years. Even his hair had grown longer. Not as long as it had been in his uni days, but it still made me smile.
Dan was poring over a map like it was a surgery chart. The locals told us they would take us on a week-long trek to other villages close by. Dan was eager to do some vet work if the villagers needed it.
I glanced at the wedding ring on my finger—a simple band of gold.
Dan. My husband.
We’d done it. Quietly. Simply. Just the way we wanted.
Six months after the snowstorm, we were married at the farm with a small ceremony. Then we’d gone to Peru and had a symbolic ceremony on a ridge overlooking the valley.
It was perfect.
“Maybe we should do it on horseback,” he said without looking up. “The villages aren’t too far from here.”
“You ride. I’ll meet you there.”
“Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“We rode horses through the mountains yesterday. My hips haven’t forgiven me yet.”
He laughed and folded up the map. “Fair. I’m a bit stiff, too.”
We watched hummingbirds dart between the flowers lining the terrace. Dan took my hand. His touch was familiar now, but no less cherished.
I looked at him, really looked at him, and saw the man I’d always loved. Older now, with grey hair, but he still held that cheeky boy with brown hair and freckles inside him.
We’d lost so many years being apart. But we could have lost more.
There was no point playing the what-if game. We finally got together when the time was right. Now, we had all day, every day, to enjoy each other. Yes, even his stubble in the sink after he shaved.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked.
“How lucky I am.”
He smiled that small smile that always captured my heart. “I think I’m luckier. I married the love of my life. In Peru. Wearing a poncho.”
I leant in and kissed him slow and sweet, tasting warmth and memory and hope.
Our future held endless possibilities.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Cynthia Terelst is a contemporary romance author based in sunny regional Queensland, where the sun shines 283 days a year. By day, she’s a document controls manager; by night, a writer crafting stories filled with heat and heart.
