24. Epilogue

Epilogue

Tyler

Three years later…

"I'm nervous. Should I be nervous? They can't say no, right?" I was rambling because I was in a panic. We were in Sacramento at the courthouse—the scene of my sentencing eight years earlier, and I couldn't believe it was finally over.

"They won't say no, and you'll finally be a free man for the rest of your life. More importantly, we can go on our honeymoon. Now, Bunny, wipe that frown off your face." Mosby kissed the tip of my nose, and wrapped an arm around my shoulders that made me feel better about the whole thing.

We weren't your typical Daddy/boy couple these days, and never had been. Mosby helped me in ways I could have never imagined, and I did my best to make him happy and proud of me every day. He doted on me and let me make my own decisions, though he was always there with supportive advice. I couldn't have asked for more.

Chatter pulled me from my musings as we turned to look down the hallway. Coming toward us was nothing less than a posse. My mom and dad, hand-in-hand. But then, my extended family appeared behind them—Alice, Edina, Camila, Ramon, and German. Tears immediately sprung into my eyes.

"There they are. You told us the wrong office building, Tyler." My mom gave me that half-mad, half-happy expression that signaled when she was disappointed in me. I had only given her a vague description of where we'd be because I wanted to avoid this very scenario.

Mosby smacked my ass, but he was laughing in my ear. "You should have known Marlena would find you. Mothers have GPS on their children."

I giggled. "You have GPS on my ass. "

"Of course I do. You're all mine." Mosby stepped forward and hugged Mom. "You're just in time. We're next." He smiled at my family.

Traitor.

I stepped behind him and took turns greeting everyone. I hadn't wanted an audience when I was having my sentencing day in court, but something inside me was jumping up and down that they were there for me when I was meeting with my parole officer for the last time. It was the nicest thing… I was overwhelmed.

My attorney—Arnie Fister—approached us with a big smile. He'd asked to be here when I got my final walking papers, and I was happy to tell him yes. "Hello everyone. Tyler, are you ready?"

I scanned my friends and family to see supportive smiles all around. Then I looked at my Mosby…my husband. We'd gone to the courthouse after we'd been together for a year and gotten married. Our family was still pissed at us, but we'd done it our way.

Mom had made me a partner in the salon when she'd moved to Cheyenne to live with Beau, and I'd rented the upstairs space to Chick and Trixie for their business and Mom's house for them to live in.

Shear Bliss officially offered tattooing and piercing services. We had a nail tech who worked part-time while finishing her bachelor's in finance, and we got a lot of business from the resort. Things were fantastic in my life for once, and I thanked the universe every day. My life had completely turned around since I'd left Folsom.

Mom returned to Foggy Basin a few times a year, and after my parole was closed, Mosby was planning to take me to Cheyenne to meet Beau's friends. I was nervous about it, but at the same time, I was excited.

A few minutes later, my parole officer, Mr. Lewis, stepped outside his office. "Well, we have a little party going on out here. Tyler, why don't you come inside, and we'll finish this paperwork so you can begin your celebration."

Arnie gave my shoulder a supportive squeeze and I went inside with Mr. Lewis. Arnie had aged a bit since he'd defended me at my original trial, but he was still the nicest attorney I'd ever met—not that I'd met a lot of them.

I held no ill will against the man because I was sentenced for my crime. I'd basically turned myself in, and I'd accepted the guilty plea he'd negotiated. I'd been able to spend the last three years in my hometown with my mother. She'd been reunited with the love of her life, and I'd found mine. That was a happy surprise after my years in prison .

Mr. Lewis closed the door and sat behind his familiar gray desk. I'd had to come to Sacramento to meet with him every quarter, leaving me to meet with Sheriff West the rest of the time, and I was glad not to have to make the drive any longer.

"So, you're here for your last check-in. Is everything going well? How's the salon?" Mr. Lewis wasn't flipping through my file, though it was in front of him on his desk. He was the kind of person who remembered things and cared about those assigned to him. He didn't need to review the error of my ways.

"Salon's doing well. We have a full book and are considering adding a small shop at Taylor's Corner Resort. We're in negotiations with the property manager to rent a smaller space. We'd rotate stylists out there for a few days a week as the business required. I'm looking forward to seeing where it goes."

That was no lie. It had been Mosby's suggestion, and it was a wonderful one. He'd found a business attorney, Raissa Patel, and she was sharp. She was handling all negotiations with the resort's holding company. If everything went well, we'd be opening the salon, Shearer Bliss, at the end of the year.

"Congratulations. You're one of my biggest success stories, Tyler. In my thirty years doing this job, I can say I've never looked forward to anyone's fresh start as much as yours. I'm sorry your conviction can't be expunged from your record, but it doesn't appear to be holding you back."

I smiled at him. "Thank you, Mr. Lewis. You've been helpful to me, and if you're ever in Foggy Basin, drop by. I'll give you a razor shave on the house, and my husband will take you fishing."

He chuckled. "If it was any of my other parolees making the offer, I'd see it as a death threat. Thank you, Tyler. I might take you up on that someday."

Mr. Lewis picked up the stamper and mashed it against the paper on top of my folder. He then closed the folder and picked up another stamper, smashing it against the cover before he turned it to me.

Case closed.

Those were two of the best words I'd ever seen or heard. The best ones were when Mosby had said, "I do."

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