Page 28 of King of the Weld
I pull back to look at him, my heart so full I can barely contain it. "I'm not just any girl," I correct him with mock seriousness. "I'm your girlfriend now."
"Girlfriend," he repeats, testing the word as if it's in a foreign language. "I love the sound of that."
His mouth finds mine, and as he presses me back against the pillows, I know with absolute certainty that this is just the beginning.
Whatever comes next—rebuilding my life, finding my purpose, facing the inevitable challenges—I won't be facing it alone.
I have Ethan. And that's more than enough.
Epilogue - Ethan
Three years later
I watch from the porch as Sophia arranges the small birthday cake on the picnic table, our daughter perched on her hip. Mia giggles, reaching for the single candle with chubby fingers, her dark curls bouncing with the movement. Sophia gently catches her hand, murmuring something that makes our one-year-old laugh again.
Three years. Three years since a barefoot runaway bride collapsed at the edge of my property and changed everything.
The cabin has changed too, expanded with a nursery and a proper guest room, the workshop upgraded with better equipment. But the essence remains the same: our sanctuary, our home.
"Need help with those burgers, Ethan?" David calls from where he's lounging with his girlfriend.
"I've got it," I reply, flipping another patty on the grill. "Just make sure Jack doesn't break anything trying to impress everyone."
As if on cue, my youngest brother attempts a handstand near the firepit, urged on by his girlfriend. He wobbles dangerously before collapsing in a laughing heap.
"Too late," Michael observes dryly, his arm around the waist of his girlfriend.
It still amazes me sometimes, all of us together like this. The Morrison brothers and the women who love them, gathered around my once-solitary home. Before Sophia, I would have found a reason to avoid this gathering—too many people, toomuch noise, too many opportunities for the darkness inside me to surface.
But she changed that. Changed me.
I slide the burgers onto a platter and carry them to the table, pausing to drop a kiss on Mia's head and another on Sophia's lips.
"Almost ready for the birthday girl?" Sophia asks, her eyes, still capable of taking my breath away, bright with happiness.
"Everything's perfect," I assure her, and it is.
Perfect in the way that matters. Not flawless or without challenges, but rich with the kind of happiness I never thought possible for someone like me.
The past three years haven't been without struggles. Sophia had to build a life from scratch, figuring out who she was outside the Valentine constraints. I had to learn how to let someone in completely, how to share not just my space but my demons.
There were nights I still woke up shouting, caught in memories of combat. Moments when loud noises sent me into high alert, my body reacting before my mind could catch up. But Sophia never flinched, never judged. She simply held on, weathering those storms with me until they became less frequent, less intense.
When she told me she was pregnant, a year and a half after she came into my life, I panicked. What kind of father could I be, broken as I was? How could I protect a child from the darkness I carried?
"Together," Sophia had said simply, placing my hand on her still-flat stomach. "We'll figure it out together."
And somehow, we did.
Our wedding was small, held right here on our property with just my brothers and a few friends from town as witnesses. Sheriff Carter officiated. Sophia wore a simple white dress. Nothing like the elaborate gown she'd fled in, and wildflowers in her hair. I still remember how my hands trembled as I placed the ring on her finger, overwhelmed by the knowledge that this extraordinary woman had chosen me, with all my scars and shadows.
It was the second-best day of my life.
The best came eight months later, when Mia entered the world after twenty hours of labor, Sophia gripping my hand with strength I didn't know she possessed. The moment they placed our daughter in my arms, red-faced and squalling, something fundamental shifted inside me. The warrior who had seen too much death found himself holding new life—a miracle he helped create.
"Earth to Ethan," Jack calls, snapping me back to the present. "The birthday girl is getting impatient."
I look over to see Mia straining toward the cake, Sophia barely containing her determined little body.
