Page 68 of The Shadow

“I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you. I don’t think I knew it at the time, but there was always something pulling me to you. And every day since then, that love has only grown stronger.”

I feel tears welling up in my eyes, my heart swelling with the overwhelming love I have for this man who has become my everything. My chin quivers and I clench my teeth to keep it still.

“I promised myself that I would protect you—that I would always be there for you, no matter what. And I intend to keep that promise for the rest of my life. That’s what that ring symbolizes on your finger but it’s also so much more.”

“I know,” I whisper softly as his forehead presses against mine.

“Do you believe me?” he murmurs into my hair, his breath warm against my skin. “That I’ll keep you safe?”

“Yes,” I nod enthusiastically, my throat thick with emotion. “Yes I do believe you.”

“Is there anything holding you back from us? From starting a family with me?” His eyes search mine frantically, like he needs reassurance.

“No, no baby nothing. I want it all with you. I’d marry today if I could.”

His eyes widen, “you would?”

“Of course,” I smile, reaching up to wrap my hands around his neck.

“I don’t want to rob you of anything Aspen, of having the big wedding and the bachelorette party with your friends…but I’d be lying if I said I could wait much longer.”

“But I don’t want a big wedding,” I say, pulling back to look into his eyes. “I want it to be just us. Let’s elope.” Maybe it was because I never had a dad who could walk me down the aisle, or the fact that my mom was gone before I could even think about love . . . but I’ve never imagined myself having a wedding. All I’ve ever wanted was to be loved in the way that I love, and I have that now.

He chuckles, a deep, comforting sound that rumbles through his chest. “I like that idea. Just you and me, baby.”

We stand there for a while, holding each other as the sun dips below the horizon, painting the sky with shades of pink and purple. It’s a moment of pure bliss, a promise of the life we’ll build together.

A few days later, we find ourselves standing in front of a justice of the peace, saying our vows in a simple yet intimate ceremony. There are no guests, no elaborate decorations—just the two of us pledging our lives to each other: me in a simple white linen dress I found at a boutique, and Harvey in a matching linen shirt and khakis.

“You look uncomfortable,” I smile, smoothing down his shirt as we wait our turn outside the courtroom, “sexy, but uncomfortable.”

“I’m not, baby.” His hands settle on my hips, his long hair tied up in a knot on his head. “It’s not my usual attire, but then again, this isn’t just any old day. This,” he says, lowering his voice just before our names are called, “is the first day of the rest of our lives.”

The drive home from our spontaneous road trip through upstate New York is peaceful, the countryside rolling by in a blur of green and gold. Harvey and I have shared so much laughter and love these past few days, and I feel lighter than I have in years. As we approach the outskirts of our town, Harvey takes a sudden turn, veering off the familiar route.

“Where are we going?” I ask, curiosity piqued.

Harvey glances at me, a soft smile playing on his lips. “I have one more stop,” he says mysteriously.

After several more miles and a few unrecognized turns, my heart clenches as I realize where we are. My breath catches in my chest when he makes the final turn into a small, secluded cemetery.

Today is the anniversary of my mother’s death, a day that usually fills me with a heavy sadness.

Harvey parks the car and takes my hand. “I know it’s the anniversary of your mother’s death,” he says softly. “You never told me the date, but I found out. I wanted to bring you here. I hope that’s okay?”

Tears fill my eyes, the words stuck in my throat, so I just nod. He takes my hand, leading me through the rows of headstones to my mother’s grave.

The sight of it brings a lump to my throat, but there’s a sense of peace here, too. I know that if my mom could see me now—happy, protected and in love—that’s all she would want. As we approach, I notice a single white rose lying on her grave. It’s delicate and pure, standing out against the gray stone. My heart swells with emotion, and I can’t help but smile through my tears. There’s no note, but I know who it’s from.

“Who left it?” Harvey asks softly, his hand gently squeezing mine.

“Jaxson,” I whisper, my voice choked with gratitude. Harvey doesn’t question how I know, and I don’t offer an explanation. Some things are understood without words. He doesn’t press for details. Instead, he pulls me close, and we stand there together, honoring my mother’s memory.

“You’re safe with me, Aspen,” he says. “Nothing will ever get to you again. I promise.”

We stand there for a while, the silence between us filled with an unspoken sense of closure. Harvey’s arm around me provides the strength I need to face this moment. I kneel down and touch the white rose, my fingers brushing against the soft petals.

“Thank you,” I whisper to the memory of my mother and to Jaxson, wherever he may be. The rose is a reminder that love endures, even through loss and time. Even hatred and pure evil couldn’t destroy it, even though they tried.

---