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“I love you,” I murmured. Her breath caught softly.

“I love you, too.”

I kissed her then, slow and sure, my hand sliding up to cup her face as the rest of the world fell away. For once, there was no edge to it. No urgency clawing underneath, no sense that something was about to be taken or lost.

Just her.

Just this.

I pulled back slightly, resting my forehead against hers, my thumb brushing along her cheek.

“You’re mine,” I said quietly.

Her lips curved, soft and sure. “Yeah,” she whispered. “I know.”

And she was.

I pulled her closer, pressing a kiss to her hair as I wrapped my arms around her, anchoring her there where she belonged. Where she always would.

And once again, nothing in me was reaching for more. There was nothing restless or waiting to break loose.

There was just her.

Just us.

And that was enough.

EPILOGUE

SIENNA

Six months later…

Right now it felt like every wrong turn, every fracture, every night I’d survived had quietly agreed on this ending, because they had all led here, to me standing on the edge of forever, about to marry Sterling Hayes.

The Montana sky stretched endlessly above me, a flawless, awe-inspiring blue that made my chest ache with how beautiful it was. Back in Boston, the skyline had always pressed in; even before everything had happened, the steel and glass had crowded too close until every breath felt shallow, like I was never truly inhaling.

Wildflowers carpeted the meadow behind the house, whites and yellows and purples swaying in the breeze like they’d shown up just for this day. The aisle was simple, with two rows of hay bales draped in white linen, and fairy lights strung between posts that would glow when the sun finally dipped. Our people filled the seats, a low hum of anticipation and emotion rippling through them.

Babs sat front and center, her arms crossed and her mouth set in a permanent scowl, like joy was a personal inconvenience. She looked ready to fight the weather, the ceremony, and possibly the concept of love itself if this took too long.

Meanwhile, Peggy was already dabbing at her eyes, not even pretending she wouldn’t cry her way through the entire ceremony, and so was Marvis, thankfully healed enough that she’d insisted on cooking the entire wedding feast waiting for us afterward…along with Dot’s pie of course.

At the front, Jett and Ryder stood next to Sterling, near the arch he had carved himself. Jett kept tugging at his tux, miserable in it, while Ryder, our officiant for the day, watched everything with a faint smirk on his face, as though he still couldn’t quite believe how we’d all ended up here.

I think I was feeling the same disbelief, wondering how the monster inside me had managed to find her perfect match.

Hattie was wearing a soft, flowing pink dress, her red hair pinned back the neatest I’d ever seen it, and her eyes were shining with a pride that made my throat tighten as she linked her arm through mine, giving my hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

“This is the best day of my life, honey,” she crooned, and I almost started weeping again, because I was pretty sure she meant it.

We were standing at the end of the aisle, and I was in a simple white dress that hugged my curves and flared softly at the bottom, barefoot because the grass felt right under my toes, steadying me here, in this life I’d fought for. My hair hung loose with wildflowers woven through it, and the only jewelry I wore was the diamond on my finger and the thin gold chain around my throat he’d clasped this morning while murmuring promises against my skin.

The music started, the instrumental version of “Wildest Dreams” began to play, and everyone stood.

Hattie started us forward.

But I only saw him.