“We find a place together. Not your house, not my apartment. Somewhere new. Somewhere that feels like us from the beginning.”
His face transforms. That rare, unguarded smile breaking through like sunrise. “I would love that.”
“Good.” I settle back against his chest, grinning like an idiot. “You can show me the PowerPoint tomorrow.”
“It’s very comprehensive.”
“I’m sure it is.”
“I’ve already taken the liberty of researching available properties.”
“I would expect nothing less.”
He pulls me closer, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
His voice goes quiet, almost shy. “For being my home.”
The last word lands in my chest and stays there, warm and solid.
Home.
Not a house in Lincoln Park with three stories and manicured hedges. Not an apartment in Pilsen with creaky floors and noisy neighbors. Home is this—his heartbeat under my ear, his arms around me, the future stretching out ahead of us like an open road.
“You’re my home too,” I tell him. “You have been for a while now.”
“Since when?”
“Since you looked at me across the lab and I knew—I just knew—that you were going to matter.” I press a kiss to his chest. “I was right.”
“Your predictive accuracy is impressive.”
“Shut up and go to sleep.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I close my eyes and let sleep pull me under.
For once, I’m not trying to figure anything out. Not running probability calculations on whether this will last, not building contingency plans for when it falls apart, not bracing for the moment he realizes I’m not worth the trouble.
I’m just... here. In his arms. In our future.
Turns out the one thing I couldn’t solve was myself. And the answer wasn’t solving at all—it was letting someone see me unsolved and staying, anyway.
No ghosts. No history. Just us.
I don’t need to understand why it works. I just need to let it.
Epilogue One
a few weeks later…
LOGAN
The lake catches the late afternoon sun like scattered diamonds, and I’m surrounded by more people than I’ve ever voluntarily spent time with in my life.
It should be overwhelming. A year ago, it would have been. But watching Audrey’s brothers attempt to out-cannonball each other off the dock while her father shakes his head from a deck chair, I feel something I’m still learning to name.
