I kiss her forehead, pleased beyond words that this woman has chosen me.
“In this life and beyond,” I say. “I’ll love you past my dying breath.”
Epilogue
Grady
Six Months Later
A year ago, happiness looked like a profitable quarter and shelves that stayed stocked through winter. Shipments arriving on time, and accounts balanced cleanly.
It turns out I was wrong.
Happiness is my wife sitting at the kitchen table with her cousin, both of them laughing over a basket of half-sorted fabric like they are girls again instead of women grown. It’s the way Rose’s hand drifts unconsciously to her belly as she listens, protective and awed all at once. It’s Anna leaning back in her chair, braid slipping loose over her shoulder, entirely at home.
They’ve always been close. Blood and choice both. Anna was the first letter Rose answered. The first voice that saidcome here, you are wanted. That bond has never weakened.
“Tell him again,” Anna says, eyes bright. “Tell him what you said yesterday.”
Rose rolls her eyes fondly.
“You’re incorrigible.”
“You love me.”
“I do.”
She turns to me, cheeks pink.
“The baby kicked for the first time yesterday.”
I grin like a fool.
“You didn’t tell me that.”
“You were busy counting inventory.”
“I was busy worrying about the future of my family,” I reply solemnly.
Anna snorts.
“He’s going to be unbearable.”
Rose smiles, soft and unguarded. She looks like a woman who belongs exactly where she is.
The town is busy today.
That alone is worth noting.
Porterville has always moved in its own time, quick to judge and slower still to change. But change came anyway. Not loudly. Not all at once. It came through small corrections and quiet reckonings.
The store has been open since dawn, and the foot traffic hasn’t slowed. Rose helps at the counter now, not because she has to, but because she wants to. People ask for her opinions. Ask after her health. Ask after the baby.
Not out of obligation.
Out of concern.
Mrs. Calder comes in just before noon.
