“What rule, bug?” I ask.
She grins. “The good-luck one.”
Aiden raises a brow. “Says who?”
“Everyone,” she replies, gesturing vaguely at the town. “But also me. I’m the expert, anyway.”
We both laugh, and I squeeze her hand.
There are far worse ways to spend a holiday, and I’m glad my mother shoved us out of the house. There was probably a plan, and I’m not mad about it.
I don’t live in the moment nearly enough, and it’s time that changed.
As the third bell tolls, the crowd starts the countdown, their voices joyful and uneven. And I focus on every moment that’s led me to this point.
Ten.
Without the discovery of the new will, I’d still be stuck in the version of myself who believed love was earned through usefulness. I’ll probably slip more often than I won’t, at least until Iunlearnthe lie.
Nine.
Without years of staying quiet to keep the peace and shrinking to fit people and circumstances, I wouldn’t appreciatehow it feels to step out of that. Or how brave it feels to finally have a voice.
I’m going to work on using it more.
Eight.
Without Enchanted Hollow, I don’t think I’d be here right now. I chose to run because I told myself that Phoebe and I needed to stand on our own, when really, I had a lot left to learn.
The circumstances that brought me back here haven’t exactly been my favorite between hospitals and hard conversations, but I feel like I have permission to finally say what I need. Without apologies. Mostly without apologies.
Seven.
Without losing Aiden, I couldn’t appreciate what we have now. I wouldn’t appreciate how we hold each other up and talk about the things we should’ve been talking about a decade ago.
And I wouldn’t realize how much I appreciate the way he almost always smells like cold air, pine, and home.
I have a home now, with a family that will only grow.
That’s my favorite part.
Six.
Phoebe bounces on her toes, counting loudly, off-beat.
Five.
I’m not even remotely afraid of what comes next. In fact, there’s not even a plan. We’ll stay a couple more days and then head home to enjoy being a family.
Four.
Aiden angles toward me, his mouth tipping up in his signature grin. I don’t know how it’s possible to love someone so much, but I suppose when you’ve both been through the trenches, feelings deepen quickly.
Especially when you’ve already loved them before.
Three.
“I choose you,” he says quietly, like it’s not a question or a promise—just a fact. “Every single day. Rain or shine. No matter what.”
