I rub my nose against him. “It’s good to be back.”

EPILOGUE

HAYES

Winter creeps in early this year.

It’s barely October, and the ground around the cabin is covered in a light dusting of snow. It’s cold enough to see my breath as I step outside, a small, velvet box tucked deep in the pocket of my coat.

Inside, Elise is baking—something she’s gotten surprisingly good at—and the smell of cinnamon and sugar drifts out with me. I stand for a moment on the porch, taking it all in.

This place, once silent and solitary, is full now.

Full of life.

Full of her.

Full of us.

The past few months have been the best of my life. Better than I ever thought I deserved. She’s slotted herself into every corner of my world, making it brighter, softer.

Mine.

And tonight, I’m going to make sure she knows it’s forever.

I walk around to the back of the cabin where I’ve been working on a little project. With the storm last month, a tree had come down not far from the house. Instead of cutting it up for firewood, I’d salvaged a piece—a broad, flat slab perfect for a bench.

It’s simple but solid, sanded smooth, with a heart carved right in the center. Inside the heart, our initials.

E + H.

It’s not fancy. Hell, it’s not even all that straight. But it’s ours.

I wipe my hands on my jeans and head back inside.

Elise looks up from where she’s dusting cookies with powdered sugar, her hair pulled up in a messy bun, a smudge of flour on her cheek.

She’s never looked more beautiful.

“Hey,” she says.

“Hey.” I cross the kitchen and swipe the bit of flour from her cheek, earning a laugh.

“Want to come outside for a minute?” I ask.

She quirks a brow. “Now? It’s freezing.”

“Trust me.”

She huffs but sets down the tray and pulls on her coat, slipping her hand into mine without hesitation.

We step out into the crisp air, the sky overhead a blanket of stars.

I lead her around back, the snow crunching under our boots.

When she sees the bench, she stops, her breath catching.

“You made this?”