I look at him, really look at him, at the man who stood between me and everything I was running from, who refused to let me disappear, who saw me exactly as I was and didn’t ask me to be anything else.
And I realize there isn’t a single part of me that wants to walk away.
“Okay,” I say.
His brow lifts slightly. “Okay?”
I nod, stepping closer, my heart racing in a way that feels nothing like fear.
“Yeah,” I say, smiling through it. “Yes. I’ll marry you.”
Something fierce and bright flashes across his face, and he stands, sliding the loop of twine onto my finger like it’s the most important thing he’s ever done.
I look down at it, then back up at him, laughing again.
“This might be the least impressive ring in history.”
“It’s temporary.”
“It’s twine.”
“It’s ours.”
That stops me.
The laughter softens into something warmer, steadier, deeper.
“Ours,” I repeat.
His hand comes up to my face, brushing lightly along my jaw, and I lean into it without thinking.
“Ours,” he says.
I don’t hesitate this time. I close the distance myself, rising onto my toes just enough to press my mouth to his, the kiss warm and sure and full of everything we just chose.
When he kisses me back, it’s steady and certain, like the mountain under our feet.
And for the first time in a long time, there’s nothing left behind me to run from.
Only everything in front of me to step into.
Second Epilogue
ten years later
Ethan
The woods are loud in the way that only matters when you know what to listen for.
Branches shifting under small boots. The sharp crack of something breaking that shouldn’t. A laugh that carries too far, too wild, too fearless.
I lean against the trunk of a pine at the edge of the clearing, arms crossed, watching.
“Easy,” Maddie calls out, her voice cutting clean through the noise without needing to be raised. “That branch won’t hold both of you.”
It doesn’t.
I see it a second before it happens. The slight bend, the strain in the wood.
