Epilogue
Ashley
ThreeMonthsLater
I wake to the smell of coffee and the sound of Ross moving around in the kitchen.
Ourkitchen.
The thought still makes me smile.
I stretch in bed, the morning light filtering through curtains we picked out together two weeks ago. Bright yellow, because I told him I was done with beige and gray, and he'd laughed and said I could paint the whole damn house yellow if it made me happy.
I didn't. But knowing Icouldmattered.
I pull on one of his flannels and pad barefoot down the hallway. The cabin is small but perfect, tucked into the mountainside with a view that makes my chest ache in the best way every single morning.
Ross is at the stove, still in his pajama pants and nothing else, flipping what looks like French toast. His hair is messy,and there's a contentment in the set of his shoulders that wasn't there three months ago.
"Morning," I say.
He turns, and his whole face softens when he sees me. "Morning, beautiful."
I cross to him and slide my arms around his waist from behind, pressing my cheek against his bare back. His skin is warm, and I can feel his heartbeat, steady and sure.
"You're up early," I murmur.
"Had an idea," he says.
"Oh?"
He turns in my arms and kisses my forehead. "Drink your coffee first. Then I'll tell you."
I narrow my eyes at him, but I'm smiling. "That's not fair."
"Life's not fair," he says, grinning. "But breakfast is almost ready, so you won't have to wait long."
I pour myself a cup of coffee and lean against the counter, watching him plate the French toast with the kind of focus he brings to everything. It's one of the things I love about him. When Ross does something, he'sall in.
The protection order against Brandon came through within forty-eight hours of that first night. Brandon showed up at the motel once more, two days later, and found Ross waiting for him in the parking lot. I don't know exactly what was said—Ross won't tell me all of it—but I know Brandon left town that afternoon and hasn't been back since.
The order is good for a year, but Ross has friends in law enforcement across three states now, all keeping an eye out. Brandon won't get close again without someone knowing.
For the first time in ages, I can breathe without looking over my shoulder.
Ross sets a plate in front of me, then sits across the table with his own.
"So," I say, cutting into the French toast. "This idea of yours."
He takes a sip of his coffee, watching me with that look that still makes my stomach flip. "How do you feel about taking some time off in the spring?"
I pause mid-bite. "Time off from what? I love my job."
I'd found work at the local library within three weeks of deciding to stay. It's quiet, steady, and I get to spend my days surrounded by books and people who don't ask too many questions. It's perfect.
"Not quitting," Ross says quickly. "Just... a couple weeks. Maybe three."
"For?"
