And it hurts. God, it hurts.
A warm hand settles on my shoulder. Ashland turns me to face him, his eyes searching mine.
“You alright?”
“I think so.” I lean into him, letting his solid warmth anchor me. “Is it wrong that I just feel… free? Relief and sadness, all at once?”
“Of course not.” He presses his lips to my forehead, the gesture so tender it makes my chest ache. “You feel that because of who you are, not because of whosheis. It's not wrong at all.”
There, in his arms, I finally let myself grieve—not just for my mother, but for the woman I thought I had, the woman who never existed. But the man I have now, holding me, loves me unconditionally and has since long before I was ever ready to accept it.
Epilogue
Bianca
At the weekend,Ashland brings me to a restaurant. Seamus is waiting at a table near the back with the family. They all stand as we approach, a sign of unified respect that makes my throat tight.
Ashland pulls out my chair, and I sit. But he doesn't join me. He remains standing, and the entire table goes quiet.
Why does he look nervous? Ashland's never nervous.
When he gets to one knee, my hand flies to cover my mouth.
Everyone goes still, and a few gasp. I'm guessing… no one knew about this.
He holds out a velvet box, comically tiny in his big, scarred hand.
“Six years ago,” he says, his voice rough with emotion, “I saved a girl. Told myself it was duty. Family business, nothing personal.”
I can't breathe. I can't move.
“Couldn't forget her though. Couldn't stop thinking about her smile, or the way she looked like sunshine and light and all things good.” His jaw works. “I watched her for six years. Memorized everything about her. Fell in love with her. Never touched her,” he says, glancing at his mother. “Not until it was appropriate. Still not sure it is.
A chuckle rises from the crowd.
Tears are falling down my face, but I don't wipe them away.
“I took her because I couldn't let anyone hurt her. Because the thought of a world without her in it wasn’t an option for me.” He swallows hard and then opens the box with trembling fingers, revealing a ring that catches the late afternoon sun—simple, elegant, with a single diamond that sparkles like starlight. It’s beautiful.
“But she stayed. She chose me. She saw the monster and loved me anyway.” His voice breaks slightly. “You made me want to be human again, Bianca. You made me believe I could be.”
“Ashland—”
“Marry me, Bianca. Be mine forever. Let me spend the rest of my life protecting you, loving you, worshipping you. Will you?”
I launch myself at him so hard he has to brace himself, and we both almost go sprawling onto the floor.
Everyone laughs, and some clap.
“Yes. Yes. Of course I'll marry you. I'll be yours. I've always been yours.”
His arms come around me, crushing me against his chest. Then he lifts me straight up into the air and pumps a fist.
“She said yes!” he shouts to the entire restaurant. “God, I love you,” he whispers against my hair, then kisses me slowly and reverently.
When I'm back on my feet, standing on my tiptoes, I kiss him. The ring slides onto my finger like it was made for me—because knowing Ashland, it probably was. He probably measured my finger while I slept, the crazy, obsessive man.
“Mrs. McCarthy,” he says, pressing a kiss to my ring finger, his lips lingering there like a vow.
