I wantedthat, too. Every day of my life.
For the last decade, my ballet company had been my—catty, dysfunctional, hyper-competitive, toxic—family.
Now I could have one I’d chosen for myself. Kind, warm, supportive, and loving.
“Felix?” Benji asked, eyes suddenly wide with alarm.
I sniffed, which was when I realized I’d teared up again and not caught it in time. “Sorry,” I said, swiping at my eyes. “Don’t anyone look at me, I’m such an ugly crier.”
No sooner had I said that than a pair of familiar arms wrapped around me from the side. I turned toward Cooper, burying my face in his chest and curling my fingers around the edge of his shirt, clinging like a baby.
“Good crying,” I mumbled, reaching out for Benji. His hand slipped into mine, and another wave of tears welled up. I sobbed against Cooper’s chest, and felt another hand fall on my shoulder, and a third on my knee.
“I’m so happy,” I choked out through a third swell of tears. After everything I’d been through, this was my happy ending.
I wasn’t sure I’d done anything to deserve it, but I wasn’t letting it go for anything.
“Me too,” Cooper said, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “And I promise you’re gonna stay that way.”
I believed every word of that.
EPILOGUE
One year later…
Now that I’d seen Otter Bay in all four seasons, I could confidently say that spring was my favorite. The salted sea breeze brought birdsong with it through the cracked-open studio window as the sun sank in the sky, golden light heralding the end of the under-8s ballet class.
Behind me, my kids giggled and chattered excitedly to the parents and grandparents picking them up. There were twelve of them now, up from the five I’d started with, in addition to the under-12s class there’d finally been enough demand to set up. Amelia handled thethreenew adult classes, all of which were almost full, and I’d taken on the second over-65s.
The under-8s were still my secret favorites.
A familiar tiny presence came to stand beside me at the window.
“That’s a rose-breasted grosbeak,” Benji said, pointing at a little black and white bird with a red mark on its chest perched in the tree nearest the studio window. “It’s early.”
Cooper had gotten into birdwatching since we’d moved to the cabin, and Benji was absorbing everything he said about them like a sponge.
I was content to sit under the gazebo Cooper had, as promised, put up near the cliffs at the back of the property. In the summer, we’d sat out there until past midnight, looking up at the stars. Now that it was spring again, we sat there in the evenings as the last of the light faded, and the two of them identified bird songs for me.
Avery teased me about going native. They were right—I had, and I loved every minute of my life here. Small enough to hold in both my hands.
More than big enough to hold everything that mattered to me.
“Rose-breasted because of the red?” I asked.
“Uh huh.” Benji nodded. “And grosbeak because it’s got a really big beak. For its size,” he explained. “It’s French.”
I smiled down at him and picked a curl to play with, heart swelling as he leaned into the touch. “Do you know you’re amazing?”
Benji half-glanced at me, one brow raised. He was learning to talk with them like Cooper did.
“Well, you are,” I said, stroking through his hair. “You’re amazing.”
“Who’s amazing?” a voice behind us asked.
I turned to look at Cooper, smile already widening before I saw him standing there in his stained overalls with a coffee in eachhand—just like every day when he came to pick me up after work.
In the warm pre-sunset light streaming through the window he was the most beautiful sight I’d ever seen.
