No threats. No danger. Just a married couple walking their dog on a beautiful Texas day.
The sky is that endless Texas blue, and the land stretches out around us—our land, our home, our future. Shadow's hand finds mine as we walk, and Charlie runs ahead, finally free of the cone, chasing butterflies through the tall grass.
"This is nice," Shadow says quietly.
"It is."
"Just... normal. Peaceful."
"We earned it."
He stops walking, turns to face me. "Grace, I need you to know something."
"What?"
"I'd do it all again. Every second of it. The exile, the fighting, all of it. To get to this moment right here with you."
I cup his face in my hands. "I know. And I'd choose you again. A thousand times."
We stand here in the middle of the pasture, just holding each other, and I think about how far we've come.
From secret meetings to this—standing together on our land, safe and whole and married.
Around two, I notice Shadow checking his phone.
"Nervous?" I ask.
"A little bit."
"Don't be. You’ve done this before, remember?" I playfully jab him in the side with my elbow.
He kisses me softly. "We should start getting ready."
Back at the house, I help Shadow pick out what to wear.
He's nervous—more nervous than I've seen him in a long time, even more than before we went to Houston.
"It's just a ceremony," I say gently, watching him change shirts for the third time.
"It's not just a ceremony. It's getting my life back. My brothers. My purpose." He looks at me, and I see the vulnerability he rarely shows. "What if something goes wrong? What if he changes his mind?"
"He won't." I cross to him, take his face in my hands. "Shadow, you earned this. You went to war for me. For his daughter. You killed the men who threatened our family. Dad doesn't change his mind about things like this."
"You're sure?"
"I'm positive." I kiss him softly. "Now put on the black shirt. It looks better."
He manages a small smile. "Yes, ma'am."
While Shadow finishes getting ready, I change into jeans and a simple blouse—nothing too fancy, but respectful for what’s about to happen.
I catch my reflection in the mirror and barely recognize myself.
I look... happy. Settled. At peace.
All the physical evidence of what I survived is disappearing.
But the emotional evidence—the strength, the certainty, the absolute conviction that I made the right choice—that's permanent.
