Page 128 of His Heart

Epilogue

Two wrongs do not a right make

but two sorrows

come together

to create something more

something beautiful

because love is the ultimate healer

the righter of wrongs

mender of woes

fulfiller of dreams

love makes all things possible

it is breath, heat, and life

creation and truth

the answer to the ultimate question

why are we here

~B

Epilogue

Brooke

Sebastian heldmy hand as we walked down the long path. The sun was warm on my skin and I adjusted my sunglasses against the glare. It had been years since I’d lived in Arizona, and the warm weather in December seemed so foreign. But after the early snowstorm we’d left behind in Iowa, the desert heat was a nice change.

After an intimate wedding in Iowa, we’d moved to Virginia for two years while we finished school. Then we’d done something crazy—even crazier than when I’d decided to move to Iowa with two strangers. We’d sold everything we owned, except what we could carry, bought two plane tickets to Europe, and left.

We spent thirteen months seeing the world. In Europe, we marveled at feats of architecture—everything from ancient Roman aqueducts to Gothic cathedrals to sleek modern skyscrapers. In Asia, we ate octopus and spicy peppers that left our mouths burning for days. Saw museums and temples. We took surfing lessons in South America. Walked through the Amazon jungle with a guide we were pretty sure was just as likely to feed us to a large snake as bring us back to civilization.

We slept in plush hotels, quaint bed and breakfasts, places with bug nets over the bed, and one shack on a beach that had no walls, but was so isolated, it didn’t need any. We lived off savings, the last of Sebastian’s college fund, and the money I earned as a travel writer for an online magazine.

When we returned to the States, there were still a hundred places we wanted to go. At least. But by then, we were ready for our next adventure. Something a little closer to home.

Sebastian got a job with an architecture firm in Iowa City. He’d applied for jobs in various places. Chicago, Austin, Miami. Seattle. But we both felt Iowa calling us back. We wanted to be near family and friends, and everyone we loved was there. Sebastian’s parents still lived in his childhood home in Waverly. Charlie and Olivia had settled in Iowa City. Their daughter, Liliana, was born just two weeks after we got back. Even Brian and Mary Harper were there. They’d relocated to be near Olivia and Charlie.

We bought a pretty house in a neighborhood we both liked, not far from Charlie and Olivia. It wasn’t fancy, but it was comfortable. We decorated it with treasures we’d collected in our travels. Art, books, vases, bowls, statues. A big decorative map hung in our living room, with the places we’d visited marked in gold.

Our house represented something so much more than just a roof over our heads. It was a home. A place that was safe and secure. A place where we could put down roots, and build our life together.

A place to raise our son.

I rested my hand on my belly as we walked. I had another eight weeks—give or take—before he’d be born, but it was hard to imagine him getting any bigger. I already felt enormous.

Of course, looking at the man I’d married, if our son took after him, he was bound to be big.

“I think it’s over there,” Sebastian said, pointing ahead of us.

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