Ended up finding something I hadn't known I was looking for.
Her.
Epilogue
Presley
The scent of pine filled Rhodes's living room as I wound string lights around the mantel. December sunlight streamed through the windows, warming the space that had become more home than my bungalow in town.
I still owned that house—three blocks from Crown & Grace, perfectly charming with its white paint and front porch. But I hadn't stayed there in months. I kept meaning to decide whether to rent it out or convert it into an office annex for the studio, but here at Rhodes's ranch house—with its lived-in comfort and the horses nickering outside—I couldn't seem to care enough to finalize anything.
"Need help with that?" Rhodes appeared in the doorway, carrying the Christmas tree we'd cut from a local farm that morning.
"I've got it." I secured the last strand of lights, stepped back to admire my work. "But I could use your height for the garland on the staircase."
He set the tree in its stand near the window, brushed pine needles from his shirt. Half a year since that first night, and he still made my heart stutter just by walking into a room.
Since that terrible, wonderful day in Austin.
After Rhodes saved me—after the EMTs patched him up and the police took Landon away in handcuffs—the competition had continued. I could still feel the weight of his arm around my shoulders, the bandage rough against my skin. The top fifteen had been announced at six PM, and somehow Addison had advanced despite the attack. I'd watched from backstage with Rhodes beside me, my heart in my throat, as she walked the evening gown portion with grace that defied what had happened.
Finals were at seven PM. Addison had answered the on-stage question about her veterinary dreams with confidence, explaining her passion for caring for ranch animals and preserving Texas's agricultural heritage. My throat had been tight with pride. Then she'd walked in that beautiful gown her mother had chosen.
When they announced Addison Clarke as the new Miss Teen Star Texas, the auditorium erupted. Her whole family was there in the audience—her father and both brothers beside Vanessa, everyone on their feet. She'd stood there looking radiant—crown, sash, flowers, and a joy that was entirely hers.
I'd pulled her aside afterward into a quiet backstage corner. Told her about Landon's attack that afternoon. About Rhodes saving me. About why I hadn't been there for evening gown prep.
She'd broken down crying, thrown her arms around me, apologized over and over for not knowing I'd been in danger.
"That was exactly the point," I'd told her, holding her tight. "You needed to focus on your performance. And you were amazing."
Later that night, Vanessa had approached me privately. Her mascara had smudged, and she'd wiped at her face with shaking hands.
"I was wrong," she'd said, voice breaking. "About everything. The roping, your coaching, trying to control her path." She'd pressed her fingers to her eyes. "Watching Addieee up there tonight, so confident and herself... You gave her what I couldn't—permission to be authentic."
We'd hugged—brief but genuine. She'd even sent a handwritten apology note two weeks after the competition. Last week she'd texted about Addison's spring semester schedule, polite and focused on the kid we both loved.
The other students had come home winners too. Harper placed second runner-up in Junior Star Texas, Crystal won Most Creative Talent, and Mary-Kate earned Most Dazzling Smile in her division. Brynlee advanced to finals. Everyone had been celebrating, parents thrilled, and Crown & Grace's reputation was stronger than ever.
The two families who'd pulled out before competition? They'd come back three weeks later with apologies and re-enrollment paperwork. Word of mouth about the security, about how I'd handled everything, about Addison's win—it had all worked in my favor.
Now I had more families waiting than I could take.
"Earth to Presley." Rhodes's voice pulled me back to the present. He stood at the base of the staircase, holding the garland. "Where'd you go?"
"Just thinking about how different things were back then.” I crossed to him, took one end of the garland. “How scared I was. How uncertain.”
“And now?”
“Now I’m standing in your living room decorating for Christmas.” I smiled up at him. “Feels like we skipped a few steps.”
“Do you want to go back? Slow down?”
“Not even a little bit.”
We worked together draping the garland, me handing him sections while he secured them to the banister. Easy rhythm, comfortable silence. This was what normal looked like—the kind of ordinary I’d been too afraid to want before.
We moved to the Christmas tree, started hanging ornaments. Simple glass balls in silver and gold, a few wooden ones carved like horses and stars. Rhodes handed me each one, watching as I found the right spot.
