Epilogue

epilogue

Zhen

Seven weeks later

I was confident when I said happy wife, happy life.

Right now, my wife couldn’t be happier. Our house was completely renovated, each room at least closed up and ready to decorate precisely how we wanted it. The trades had done a great amount of work in seven weeks, and honestly, the house had never looked better. Kris was busy buying books to fill all of her library shelves, of course, but that was a work in progress. My garage space was up next, as I wanted a proper workshop setup in there and not the makeshift one I had now. But we were edging really close to my month, which meant I was out of time for renovations for the next thirty days at least.

Charlotte had settled into my old apartment in my grandmother’s building without a hiccup. She and Kris had many, many long conversations about their parents and all the damage they’d done. Both parents had tried multiple times—in multiple ways—to reach them. Both sisters blocked every method immediately. Unless those two dipshits came with abject apologies and a true change of heart, I didn’t see them coming back into the sisters’ lives. They’d burned those bridges too thoroughly.

Our two cats were settled in completely. Sann had taken a bit longer—the size of the house apparently intimidated him at first, as he’d spent the first four days under a dresser—but he’d eased himself into it, and now he was master of the place. He slept everywhere he wanted, demanded pets, and would come running for treats. I’d caught both cats and the huodou in big nap piles in the library more than once, so I was confident they’d be fine even during our longer trips.

Plus, it was really fun to sit watching TV with Kris at night and have cuddles. I was all for kitty cuddles.

Kris spoiled the cats outrageously, of course, but I let her be on that. She’d never had cats before, and these two had had a very rough start in life, so it did no harm that I could see to give them some spoiling.

Things were really going apace with the bond, too. Now that we felt more charitable about it and were trying to accept it, we didn’t have nearly as many issues. I’d tested it once by going a full ten miles away to do a minor day hunt, and it hadn’t kicked up much of a fuss. Kris’s training with the sniper rifle was going really well, too. Uncle Ty kept boasting that she was a natural. It wasn’t just because he was fond of her, either—she was truly Deadeye Dick. Her accuracy made me look bad.

Plus, she’d pitched the idea of a social media thing to all of my hunting buddies, and they’d immediately taken her up on it. Jo Jo, my bestie, had even thanked her profusely for it, saying he knew he should be doing more social media but just didn’t have the spoons. Kris was gathering up content right now and outlining posting schedules and stuff with people. Frankie was doing final touches on the logo we’d landed on, which was really the only thing stopping Kris from posting, so she’d have that thing off the ground in a day when he was done.

Tonight, we had a full house. Kris and I were throwing a housewarming party to show off to friends and family. We had everyone coming in and out, some only able to spend an hour due to other commitments, which was fine. Charlotte had brought housewarming gifts for the cats, which amused me to no end. She’d given them two new cat beds to put in the library’s bay window, which they’d admittedly love.

I heard Kris talking to someone in the kitchen, so I headed in that direction. We might be low on punch, too, so I’d mix up some more and refill the punch bowl in the dining room.

I entered our very glamorous kitchen to find both Jian Ju and Min Min there. They were holding hands, as the two wandering ghosts liked to do, and were very excited while talking with Kris. I gave them a wave in greeting as I headed for the fridge.

“Wait,” Kris requested, sounding strained. “Say that again?”

“We’re very happy to see the bond doing so well,” Min Min repeated. “It was a bit tricky to manage it.”

I…did not hear that right. I couldn’t have heard that right. I snapped backward from the fridge and crossed to Kris’s side in two long strides.

“What do you mean, manage it?”

Min Min and Jian Ju shared confused looks before facing us again.

“Well, we were the ones who bound you,” Jian Ju said. “We saw you liked each other, and we were so happy ourselves, we wanted to do something to give back. We owe Kris much, after all. Was the bond not perfect for you?”

For a full second, I had no words. None. My head was a jumbled mess of disbelief, anger, outrage, and a few dozen other emotions. If he’d had any idea of how much trouble the bond had given us, how much stress and worry, he’d never have said something like that. If he wasn’t already dead, I’d probably have strangled him for it.

I was tempted to strangle him regardless.

I looked down at the red string connecting my pinky with Kris’s, the opaque look of it, and just groaned. The visible bond sitting there gave me all sorts of feels, most of which I didn’t appreciate.

Min Min broke the taut silence, biting her lip uncertainly. “Were you not happy?”

“Min Min,” Kris groaned, leaning in to thump her head against my shoulder. “It’s taboo to link living people together in a soul bond for a damn good reason. I understand you wanting to give back, but doing this without our consent was the absolute wrong method. You caused both of us a lot of stress and trouble pulling this stunt. We’re only just now at a good place with the bond where we can manage it without it causing issues.”

Both Min Min’s and Jian Ju’s faces fell. You could tell from their expressions they really thought they’d done a good thing and were crestfallen to hear otherwise.

Turned out that old adage was true. No good deed goes unpunished.