EPILOGUE

I t took a good three months before Henry was up and mobile again. Between the dislocated arm, concussion, bullet wound, and broken ribs, he's lucky his recovery didn't take longer. Even now, he's still a bit sore, but Henry isn't the kind of person to sit idle for extended periods of time. He's a busybody.

Thankfully he has the perfect task to occupy himself.

With the combined efforts of ourselves, Ian, Ambrose, and Ambrose's smuggling crew, we were able to clear the surface of the island of all the blood, bodies, and remaining traps. It took fucking forever. Henry was almost fully healed by the time the last landmine was taken out of the ground.

Ambrose was then kind enough to hire and transport some builders to the island to help us make a house. I love the bunker, but I've seen enough post-apocalyptic movies to know that living underground long-term isn't a good idea. The lack of sunlight and natural air would start to affect our health. So, after another month's worth of work, a cute cottage was built in the center of the island, right next to the bunker's entrance. Henry let me design it, so I showed the builders some cottagecore pictures off of Pinterest so they could get an idea of the vibe I was going for, and they made my dreams come alive. It's a single story with a fully working kitchen, two bathrooms, a living room, a bedroom, and a fireplace. Between it and the bunker, we have everything we'll ever need.

As promised, Ambrose became our supplier for all my medical needs and beyond. Ian went back home to England at first, but more and more we started seeing him accompany Ambrose on his visits to the island to drop off supplies. Apparently, Ambrose offered Ian a job as a full-time guard to join him on his smuggling trips. Ian, a private person by nature, never gave too much away, but by the looks shared between him and the far more open Ambrose, made it clear that their relationship was more than just professional. This was confirmed to me just a couple weeks ago by Ambrose, who's become one of my closest friends. Henry and Ian's friendship is also stronger than ever, with the past forgotten and forgiven.

Henry and I may be retired, but having no job can be quite boring, so we've started helping Ambrose's smuggling business by checking the backgrounds of potential buyers, growing his clientele list with the connections the two of us have made over time, including our old weapons supplier, Ricky, who was willing to expand his business of making dangerous chemicals to making medicinal ones. I also started writing fanfictions again, and despite their ridiculous and very raunchy nature, Henry reads every chapter.

Henry started seeing his therapist again, remotely of course, and has included me in the continuation of his healing journey. He doesn't bottle stuff up anymore; we talk through every panic attack, every nightmare, and work through it together. I got him into doing meditations, something I used to do when I was in therapy, and thanks to Ambrose, Henry now takes Zoloft every day, which has helped him manage his PTSD better than ever before.

At the suggestion of Dr. Bennett, Henry has been trying to reconnect with his culture on both sides. He and I attempt to cook traditional Chinese and Italian recipes and celebrate holidays like Lunar New Year and the Autumn Festival. Neither of us are particularly good at cooking, but the effort is what matters. We're also watching a lot of documentaries about both cultures, wanting to learn about the history. It's been a fun hobby for both of us, and I know it means the world to Henry. I'm sure this is the closest he's felt to his parents in years.

On Valentine's Day, just as we talked about before the mercs showed up, Henry and I stood on the beach of our island, with no one around to witness us pledge our hearts and souls to one another.

"Peter 4:5 says that love covers a multitude of sins," Henry had murmured, holding both of my hands in his. "I'm not na?ve enough to think that love can absolve me of all the sins I've committed, but I do believe that through love, you can earn forgiveness. Not from God, but from yourself. It's through you that I have learned to forgive myself, to forgive the world, to forgive God. Any ounce of light still in my soul has endured because of your love. I don't know whether that sliver of light will make a difference in the end, and if I'm still bound for Hell, I'll look back at my life with no regrets."

With tears in my eyes, I squeezed his hands and gently laughed. "You son of a bitch, how am I supposed to go after that?"

He chuckled, his own gaze shimmering. "You're off to a great start."

With a cheeky grin, I began my own vows. "When I imagined what my husband would be growing up, I imagined Zayne Malik as depicted in mafia AU fanfictions. I knew that was unrealistic, yet here I am marrying an assassin who has a surprisingly good singing voice and is obsessed with period piece TV shows. You are far beyond what I had wanted growing up, mostly because my parents didn't sell me to you to pay off their debt to your boy band."

"That actually happens in those stories?" Henry asked incredulously.

"Yes, which would be really problematic, so thank God my childhood fantasies didn't come true."

"Glad I exceeded such a low bar."

I swatted at his chest, indicating him to be quiet. "I've been in love with you since I first started working with you, and that love has grown every day since. Most people would find the idea of living on a deserted island for the rest of their lives crazy, but I can't wait for the decades you and I will spend together here. You're my favorite person, my best friend, my sexy boss, and the love of my life."

"So I dethroned Mafia Zayne Malik?" he asked teasingly.

I rolled my eyes. "You're such an asshole."

With a grin, Henry dug into his pocket and pulled out a ring. It was a gold band with a square sapphire in the center, reminding me of the sea. He slipped the ring on my finger, and said words that I would never forget. "With this ring, I take you as my wife and my partner, so long as we both shall live."

He pulled out another ring, a simple gold band, and handed it to me. I placed it on his finger, and made the same vow. "With this ring, I take you as my husband and my partner, so long as we both shall live."

"By the power vested in me by absolutely no one," he said, smiling so wide his eyes crinkled, "I now pronounce us husband and wife."

We kissed underneath the glow of the stars, with the waves crashing against the shore and sand between our toes. We then went back to our cottage and danced in our living room to "Something Great" by One Direction. I had finally worn Henry down into liking my favorite band.

How could life get any more perfect than that?

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