Epilogue

EPILOGUE

MAYA

Six Weeks Later

I stand at the edge of the grave, feeling the wind cut through my coat. The sky is gray, matching the weight in my chest. As they lower Mom’s casket into the ground, it feels like a piece of me is going with her. The solemn words feel like a distant hum, drowned out by my beating heart.

Tristan stands beside me, his hand firm on my shoulder. I lean into him, seeking strength. I’m on autopilot, just trying to survive this moment.

Tristan guides me to a quieter spot under a large oak tree as the crowd thins out. The leaves rustle above, a reminder that life goes on, even in the face of loss. I wipe my eyes, trying to find the words that have been trying to burst out of me since the night before. I take a deep breath, and, finally, the words tumble out.

“Tristan, I’m pregnant.” The shock on his face mirrors my own disbelief. We stare at each other momentarily, the weight of the news settling in alongside our grief.

Finally, he firmly takes my hands in his. “Maya, listen to me,” he begins. His voice is rough but filled with a determination that cuts through my agony. “Life’s a fight, and it’s damn hard sometimes, but love … love is what makes it worth it. Even when everything seems hopeless, love is what pulls us through. This baby, our baby, is a piece of your mom living on. It’s a new beginning. We’re going to get through this. You hear me? Together.”

I nod, a flood of hope and happiness rushing into me. I don’t even care if I should be crying sad tears. I let the happy ones flow. He wraps his arms around me, holding me tight. “We’re going to make it, Maya—for your mom, us, and this baby. We’re going to build a life together. Everything—the sanctuary, your career, our lives—will be perfect. I promise.”

I bury my face in his chest, letting his strength flow into me. For the first time since losing Mom, I feel light in the darkness. Love can come from hopelessness. With Tristan by my side, I know we’ll find our way.

So much has happened. We’ve got so much fighting left to do, but it’s worth it for each other. It always will be.