Epilogue

FOUR YEARS LATER

T he fall season is finally over at the farm. Spring, summer, and fall are always the roughest seasons for me. Worn ragged by hard work, I use winter to decompress, to work the earth, to spend time with Trevor.

Time passes a little differently now.

I quietly leave the front office behind with a kiss to Mama’s brow. Then I start the thirty-minute trek to Trevor’s office. We’d built the small office a year ago, after he’d graduated with his clinical hours under his belt. A small little office at the edge of the property is all Trevor wanted. Colby, Lee, Joey, Jackson, and I had planted rows of sunflowers around it before painting it a bright baby blue. Happy is the only vibe we wanted Trevor’s workplace to give off. I think we succeeded.

For the past year, Trevor has been seeing clients in the small office. People drive thirty minutes from the city to spend an hour with him. He’s young, but he’s building a client base. And I’m so damn proud of him. It doesn’t hurt that he’s within my reach. Close enough that we can get lunch together most days throughout the week. Close enough that my heart longs for him even though we’re only a short walking distance from each other.

Short for me, too long for Trevor. He usually hops in the classic Ford I surprised him with for graduation that we rebuilt together. Trevor still drives my truck sometimes. Usually just when he wants to really get me going. Which is a lot. Everything about Trevor gets me going and it only gets better with time.

The walk clears my mind of the cobwebs of the day. By the time I reach the small office, everything feels so much lighter than it had just moments before. I knock on the door and kick the dirt off my shoes before entering.

“Sweetheart?” I call out.

Trevor’s head peeks out from the office. His hair is longer now, held up most days with a hair tie to stay professional. One look from me has him chuckling and tugging his hair down without a single argument. His hair cascades down his back as his chuckles echo around the office.

“Hey, handsome.” Trevor grabs his workbag, then slowly makes his way down the hallway. He presses a soft kiss to my cheek, smelling like lemon, sunshine, and sweetness.

“Ready to go home?”

“Are we walking or taking my truck?”

“Let's take your truck. Been a long day.”

Trevor winks at me, then leads us out to his truck. Tossing his bag into the bed, he slowly climbs into the cab. “I got an interesting call today.”

I roll the window down as Trevor pulls out of the property, heading towards our home. The ring on his finger catches the light just right, sending a spray of refracted twinkles to the ceiling. A sight that’ll always make my heart go a million happy beats a minute. I vividly recall the day we exchanged vows and rings by the spring on a hot summer day. No one else, just us. That day was grander than a wedding ever could be for me. No paper necessary for us. Just the sweet promise of forever.

“Yeah?”

“From the social worker assigned to us.” Trevor keeps his eyes on the road. But his jaw firms up as his hair blows in the whip of wind through the window. By the look on his face, I assume it’s bad news.

Working on getting approved to foster, then adopt, for the past year has been an arduous process. It was one of the first things Trevor wanted to do once he finally earned his graduate degree. Kids. He’d been mostly uncaring about the idea when we first got together. But watching Colby and Eli become parents softened him. Made him realize maybe it was something he really wanted after all.

And I always just want what Trevor wants.

“What’d she say?”

Trevor parks the car in front of the house, eyes firmly out of the windshield. His fingers anxiously tighten and then loosen on the wheel.

“There’s a little girl they think is a good fit for us. They want us to meet her. Her name is Rose.”

“Rose,” I repeat softly, hope swirling inside me.

Trevor’s gaze finally swings towards me, revealing tears welled up in his eyes. “Rose.”

“How old is she?”

“Two years old.” Trevor pulls his phone out, fumbles with it for a second, then hands it over to me. A picture of a little girl with a riot of blonde curls, bright blue eyes, and a wicked smirk stares up at me. Oh, my heart.

“She’s ours.”

Trevor clears his throat. “She can be.”

“No, Trevor. I’m telling you. She’s ours. That’s our little girl.”

Trevor holds back a pained noise, maybe a cry. “Yeah, I think so too.”

“When can we see her? When can we bring her home?”

“We can see her this weekend. If it goes well, then we can bring her home in a few weeks.”

“Where is she now? Is she safe? Is she okay?”

Trevor wipes away a lone tear. He leans over to press a kiss to my unruly beard. “She’s safe with another foster family right now. But they were temporary, they’re hoping we can be more permanent.”

“We’re so permanent. Beyond permanent. Forever.”

Trevor laughs, a tinkling perfect laugh. The laugh that’s worked its way into my bones, to become a part of me. Suddenly, I can’t hold it in anymore. I tug him to me in the truck, until he has to crawl over the gearshift to sit in my lap. I tangle my fingers in his hair and stare unblinking up at him.

“Are you happy?”

“Beau, I’ve been happy since the first time you kissed me. You can stop asking now.”

I kiss him, just a firm press of lips. “I’ll never stop asking. Your happiness is my life’s greatest mission, don’t ya know.”

Trevor tenderly runs his thumb over my bottom lip. His gaze is fathomless, looking into the deepest parts of me. “I love you.”

“Love you more.”

Tugging him to me, I kiss him in the warm cab of the truck until he’s boneless against me. Until everything but the taste of Trevor is burned from my mouth. Just Trevor, Trevor, Trevor . That’s all I want for the rest of my life. This life is ours, and I’m going to make it something beautiful, something perfect.

And I know Trevor is going to do the same for me.

Life is so beautiful when we let it be.

The End