I squeeze her hand. “We’ll make it work. Like we always do.”
“Thanks,” she whispers. “For supporting me through this.”
“An investment in the future health of our garden. Think nothing of it.”
She laughs and nearly falls off her chair.
Amber catches my eye, grins, then glances toward the drive where a familiar car is rolling up. “Look at that! Seems like my oh-so-busy husband will be joining us for dinner after all.”
I let my lips twitch. “I texted him. He still owes me.”
“Funny. He keeps saying you’re the one who owes him.”
“Maybe we’ll settle it over dinner.”
“No more mafia talk,” Rose says. “It’s Sunday. Sundays are for resting.”
"Then let's put the kids to bed and skip dinner," I murmur. "Bet I'll feel more like resting then."
"Guys, seriously, stop." Amber sticks her tongue out. "I'm going to get cavities just from looking at you!"
Rose rolls her eyes, still smiling. "Like you're any better withyourhusband."
"At least we can keep our hands off each other for five whole seconds."
That's not how he describes it,I almost say, but don't. Far be it from me to ruin a friend's reputation.
For now.
Later, when the kids are tired and the light turns golden, I sit on the steps with Rose beside me, her shoulder warm against mine. She rests her head against my chest, fingers tracing idle circles on my wrist.
“You know,” she says quietly, watching the garden breathe around us, “I used to think freedom meant being alone.”
I kiss the top of her head. “Me too.”
She smiles. “Feels good to be wrong, doesn't it?”
"Very."
She leans into me without thinking. I still notice every time.
I look at the house. The garden. The small chaos we’ve built and tend together.
Five years ago, I thought love was a liability.
Now I know better.
It’s the reason everything else finally makes sense.
And I’ll protect it with all I’ve got.
EPILOGUE: ROSE
TEN YEARS LATER
Even now, I still get nervous while speaking in front of a crowd.
It’s ridiculous. I’ve defended a dissertation in front of people who wanted to tear my work apart sentence by sentence. I’ve stood my ground in rooms full of egos and credentials and questions meant to test whether I belonged there.
