Cora places her fingertips against my cheek, trailing them down the stubble along my jaw. “I’ve thought about you, too. Every day. Every night. I dream about us at the ocean sometimes, listening to the waves roll in, feeling the water mist our faces.” She kisses my lips, wrapping her leg tighter around me and hitching it over my waist. “It’s my happy place.”
I smile against her mouth. “My happy place is wherever you are. And I want to make this work, Cora. No more hiding, no more holding back. I’ll wait for a job position to open back up here, and I’ll put in for a transfer. It might be a few months—it could be a year. But I’ll spend every goddamn weekend with you until I’m back for good.”
Tears well in her green eyes, her lips parting with wonder. “You’re coming back?”
“If you want me to. If you want this like I want this.”
She quickly nods. “I want this, Dean. I want you. I want everything I told myself I didn’t deserve.”
“You deserve it all, Corabelle, and I’ll spend my whole damn life giving it to you.”
She kisses me again, then again and again. “I’ll talk to Mandy this week. There might be tension at first… it might still be weird. But we’re in a better place now, and she’s moved on and is crazy happy with Reid, and I just know it’s going to be okay. My parents still love you.” Cora pulls herself even closer to me, tears trickling down her cheeks. “I know we can do this.”
I grin, my heart flipping the fuck out inside my chest. I wrap her up in my arms, whispering against her neck, “We escaped from a serial killer, Cora. We can do anything.”
Cora pulls my face to hers, capturing a kiss that tastes somehow different from all the rest.
It tastes like a new beginning.
After we finish making love that morning and lie basking in the afterglow, I have one more question to ask her. I catch her eyes, drunk with happiness, and I twirl a soft strand of her hair around my finger as she faces me on the bed. “Are you still mine?”
Cora doesn’t hesitate. She reaches for my hand, placing it above her heart. “It’s still beating,” she says. Her face lights up with a radiant smile that looks exactly like how her heartbeat feels. “As long as it’s beating, I’m yours.”
Epilogue
“Aunt Mandy and Uncle Reid are here!”
Aiden and Brooklyn charge towards the front door, the dogs trailing behind them. I frantically try to zip my suitcase, sitting on it, then bouncing up and down as Dean saunters up behind me pulling a t-shirt on over his head.
“Shit, Cora. It looks like you packed for the end of days.”
“Well…” Bounce. “…you know I just like to…” Tug. “…be prepared.”
“For Armageddon?”
“For vacation with two children.” Bounce. “Who knows how many outfit changes we’ll need, and I packed the good camera because, you know, memories, and then the books take up a ton of space.”
“How many books are you bringing?”
“Five.”
“Jesus…”
I huff. “It’s a series, Dean.”
Dean chuckles, relieving me of my struggle and nudging me off the suitcase. He places his palm against the top and presses down, successfully zipping it on the first attempt.
I flip my hair back, puckering my lips together. “That was kind of hot.”
“Only you would get turned on by me zipping up a suitcase,” he winks.
I narrow my eyes teasingly. “Let’s hope so.”
We’re about to lean in for a kiss when Mandy and Reid shuffle up behind us with four dogs at their feet.
“Sorry we’re late,” Mandy says, scooping Penny Lane into her arms and peppering kisses along her snout. “Are the beasts ready for us?”
Jude, Lucy, and Rigby sit patiently, tails wagging, as Penny is placed back down between them. Mandy is the resident dog-sitter. She and her husband, Reid, take the animals back to their house once a year when we go on our annual vacation.
Mandy and Reid have been married for seven years now. Reid proposed on New Year’s Eve, just a month after his conversation with Dean, and Mandy walked down the aisle one year later. I finally got to stand up in my sister’s wedding as her maid of honor and with Dean as Reid’s best man, and there was a hell of a lot tears, joy, forgiveness, and full circle. Then Mandy and Reid stood up in our wedding six months later, and we all cried some more.
“The beasts look ready,” I smile, reaching for the leashes hanging along the wall and turning around to look for the kids. “Speaking of beasts, where did Aiden and Brooklyn disappear to?”
Dean slides over to us, giving Mandy a quick hug and fist bumping Reid over her shoulder. “They’re in the kitchen grabbing snacks.”
“Mom!”
The sound of my name pulls me into the kitchen of our two-story house, locating both kids carrying hot mugs of coffee around the island in their unsteady hands. Yikes.
Aiden, our six-year-old son, holds up the cup as hot liquid splashes over the rim. “We got your coffee ready. It’s already after eight o’clock, and I know how you get.”
Well.
He’s not wrong.
I try not to panic as the dark roast seeps into my hardwood floors and accept the offering. “This is so thoughtful of you. It’s very hot, though, so grab me or your dad next time.”
Our five-year-old daughter, Brooklyn, sets her mug down on the table. “Here’s yours, Dad!”
Dean steps away from his football-infused conversation with Reid and joins us, shooting me a wink as he reaches for his mug. “Thanks, princess. Such service.”
Dean and I take a sip of our respective coffees.
Then we simultaneously spit it out.
Everywhere.
I start gagging as Dean wipes at his shirt. We both look at each other accusingly, our eyes brimming with blame, when both children break out into hysterical laughter beside us.
“Gotcha!” they shout, doubling over in a fit of giggles.
Dean and I share another glance. Our mouths tip up into a smile, growing bigger and brighter, as we absorb the fact that we have raised devious little pranksters, much like ourselves. Then we race to the sink and start wiping the salt coffee off our tongues with paper towels, while chugging down water.
I wonder if Mandy and Reid would mind taking an extra two beasts with them.
“Do you think we can bring some seashells home for Nana Asher?”
Brooklyn skips over to me across the shoreline, her arms full of delicate seashells.
On the way to the airport, we made a quick stop at the assisted living facility to visit Dean’s mother and to deliver homemade masterpieces from the children. Aiden and Brooklyn love spending time with Holly, despite her memory loss. Her door is now completely covered in construction paper, crafts, and love notes created by the kids. We spend hours with her a few times each month, singing songs and telling stories. Holly has moments of clarity here and there, more so lately, especially when we sing.
She knows every single word to Hey Jude, and I can’t help but wonder if the song helps her cope with the darkness like it did for me.