Page 117 of For Keeps. For Always.

“I love you, Henley Wright. From the moment you accused me of stealing this very rock, you were my endgame. Whether I knew it at the time or not.”

“I love you, too,” she whispers. “But I’d never ask you to give up your life for me.”

I bark out a laugh, pushing myself up so we’re nose to nose. “Don’t you get it?” I kiss her. “Livingwithoutyou is giving up my life.”

She holds the ring box to her chest. “All my minutes are yours. Every sixty seconds from here on out, I’m where you are.”

Epilogue

HENLEY: FIVE YEARS LATER

When I was a young girl,the concept of family was starkly different for me than it was for my peers. Quite frankly, the notion was almost frightening. Jacinta and Derrick were steadfast in their shortcomings. Loyalty didn’t exist between them. Selflessness was an ideology that was drowned out by their narcissistic nature. Genuine love, care, and concern just weren’t part of their make-up.

Following Derrick’s death, I considered mending my relationship with Jacinta. I spent hours deliberating over the possibility. In the end, Brooks broke it down for me so poetically, I knew my answer was no.

“Baby, this one’s an easy one. Think about you as a mother, holding our baby.”

I’d envisaged it so clearly. A tiny dark-haired bundle wrapped up in my arms. A miniature version of the man who I trekked through heaven and hell to find.

“Would you want Jacinta to help shape them as a person?”

The answer was a resoundingno.Absolutely fucking not.

My deliberation over mended bridges closed the moment I’d come to that realization.

She called me after Derrick’s funeral. Of course, she did. She saw dollar signs. An opportunity at a paycheck. I didn’t answer her call or the thirty-five that followed. She eventually got the message.

Brooks and I spent some time in Lake Geneva following our reconciliation. We’d decided, together, that the ring he bought me was a promise ofmore.We’d only just come together, so we didn’t want to rush into anything that would put greater pressure on ourselves. We wanted to justbe. We wanted to enjoy one another in a way we hadn’t allowed ourselves to. We had over a decade of lost time to make up for, and we were hell-bent on doing exactly that.

We made love in our spot by our rock. It was messy and rough and, at times, downright thorny, but we were too caught up in one another to care.

We spent time reconnecting with his parents. They didn’t hesitate to welcome me back into their fold and were over the moon at Brooks’s obvious happiness. Because all they ever wanted was their son to be happy.

Following Lake Geneva, we began building a life around one anothertogether.We compromised. We chose our destinations and, therefore, our next jobstogether.It was far easier than either of us imagined it would be. In the beginning, I considered that we were too loved up to care where we were. But as the years passed and the ease in which we traveled continued, I realized it was because we’d both come to an understanding within ourselves that life without one another wasn’t worth it.

We began volunteering in the various countries we visited. Slicing out a large chunk of time to help where we could. We also put Derrick’s money to good use. We donated to orphanages all over the world. Providing the necessities we take for granted to children who were in need. It made Derrick’s estate meaningful to me. His money never belonged to me. I wanted what he had promised me was mine, his love. His money was meaningless. But we could take the positive in the situation, and that was that we could make a difference in the lives of children who really needed it.

Three years ago, I launched my own company. One I could manage from anywhere in the world. I hadn’t thrown myself into the best mixology courses for the patrons' gain. Or learned from every barkeep I came into contact with tojustmake a mean cocktail. Sure, I wanted to be good at what I did, but I always had a greater end goal.

I created my own line of mixers. Not the sweet, substituted brands marketed to college students wanting to get loaded. These werereal.Perfectly crafted like the beverages you pay for in a swanky cocktail bar. All in the comfort of your own home.

I’d spent years of my life deliberating over the ingredients, making certain they were culminating. When I was convinced they were supreme, I agonized a little bit more. From there,The Rockswas born. A collection of mixers for cocktail lovers. Delicious sours, margaritas, sangria, and cosmos all at the tip of your fingertips. We’d even created a collection of edible florals; garnishes for crowning that faultless cocktail.

The Rocks blew up in the States. Brooks had a connection, albeit craggy, with a pop star he photographed once upon a time. When Brooks reached out asking him to drop The Rocks on his socials, he seemed more than happy to help me out. He referred to Brooks as a twata lotfor people who were supposed to be friendly, but I took his help gratefully.

“Hey, wife.”

I open my eyes, taking the steaming cup of coffee Brooks hands me. “Morning, husband.”

We were married yesterday. Nothing fancy. Nothing excessive. A courthouse, Brooks’s parents for witnesses, and the love we had for another. Over the years, my understanding of family has thankfully shifted. This, with Brooks, is what I’d spent the majority of my life without. Our loyalty to one another is unwavering. Our love was resolute.

It may have taken us both many years to embrace one another the way we were destined to, but our ending seems all the more sweeter because of it.

“You went to Caffeine Coma without me?”

Kissing the end of my nose, he settles along the end of the bed, sipping his coffee.

“I was watching you sleep long enough to move into psychopath territory. I decided to go for a walk to let you sleep. Tripp and Zoe were there. They passed on their congratulations.”

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