Epilogue

EPILOGUE

BELLA

One Month Later

T ogether, my man and I play "Pavane" by Gabriel Fauré. It's a beautiful piece to mix guitar and violin. As I move my bow over the Stradivarius, I still can't believe it's mine. I can't believe this life is ours .

We're sitting on the back porch as the sun sets, kissing the plants, our song notes rising in the air.

Matt looks so gentle as he plucks his way with determination, meeting my eye with a smirk. His urgent words return to me as I watch him look lovingly down at his instrument.

"Nothing will ever come between us. Nothing will ever stop me from loving you. You're mine—and I'm yours—forever. Bella Rossi, will you marry me?"

When he said those words, it was like I'd been waiting to hear them all my life. It was like the final notes of a perfect song falling into place.

Once we're done, I put the Stradivarius down and pick up my old violin. Giving it a shake, I say, "That's weird. There's something lodged in the string."

Matt leans down when the small plastic wrap falls out. I watch him closely, the fading sunlight glistening in his hair, the soft smirk on his lips, the way his lips change shape when he sees the object inside the plastic wrap.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"I bagged it, so it isn't gross."

He picks it up, a shudder moving through him. For a moment, I think I've misjudged everything. Love, engagement, and agreement for the future don't mean he wants this .

"I didn't know I wanted a baby until I did the test," I say, tears in my eyes, "but the second I saw …"

He looks up, and I see tears in his eyes, too. "I can't wait to be a father," he whispers hoarsely.

"You're going to do an amazing job," I tell him.

He stands up, pulls me to my feet, and pulls me into a deep hug. I hold him tightly. I meant what I said. He's going to be so much better than my dad. Mom told me the truth two nights after the proposal, crying herself silly, but I forgave her.

I'm too full of love to hold a grudge, especially when she did it out of love.