In A Day Or Two

Epilogue

"Can you just stop sucking each other's faces and hand me the nails already?" I snapped at Edmund and Margaux, who were sprawled beneath me, giggling and making goo-goo eyes at each other. These past few months, they'd become inseparable. Edmund no longer drooled over every girl at the beach, and Margaux—thankfully—was still 100% single. Honestly, I couldn't decide if I should be annoyed or grateful, but one thing was clear: they were the perfect couple... perverted, but perfect.

We were currently fixing the house—or at least, I was. My "handy helpers" were more busy helping themselves than helping me. Every time I glanced at them, I had to stifle a laugh and roll my eyes.

The house was slowly transforming into a proper home, a place to keep Xianon and her dad's memories alive. I'd decided to move in here for good, leaving our old house behind. My parents respected my choice; it was close to town, and I'd finally made a space of my own where I could honor her memory.

A year had passed since I graduated from college, finishing my orthopedic practicum, and I'd come back to Black Oak to breathe in the cleaner air and wait for job interviews. Every sunset at the beach still reminded me of her. I could see her standing there, the breeze brushing her golden-brown hair, her eyes closed, soaking in the cold wind. She was never out of my mind, but now, when I imagined her on the shore, there was a little girl by her side—a perfect copy of her mother. And I couldn't help but smile.

Recalling those memories still stung sometimes, but the joy outweighed the pain. I realized what Xianon had tried to teach me: death leaves a mark, yes, but how you respond is a matter of choice. You can mourn endlessly... or you can let it change how you see life.

She had been right. I couldn't stay stuck in grief forever. If I did, I'd never move forward, never live fully. Our story may have ended tragically, but it left me lessons I'd carry forever: every moment matters, every breath counts, and pain—though sharp—is part of living. It's not meant to trap you; it's meant to teach you.

Feeling it makes you human. And if you survive it, you'll live stronger, richer, and fuller than you ever thought possible.

"Does anybody here miss me?"

We all turned toward the voice, our heads snapping in unison.

The moment my gaze landed on her—standing near the house with a large bag in hand—my heart melted. That familiar smile... the one I had missed more than anything... it lit up my entire world. Without thinking, I scrambled down the roof, two rungs at a time on the ladder. By the time my feet hit solid ground, I was running toward her, unable to contain myself. I scooped her up, spinning her around as Edmund shouted something about Mom Melinda from the kitchen, announcing her arrival.

I slowly set her down, and she wrapped her arms around my neck. My hands rested on her waist, pulling her close, our foreheads pressed together. My cobalt eyes met her malachite ones, and we just smiled at each other, wide and unashamed. She looked healthier than the last time I saw her, her cheeks rosy, her hair silky, her familiar scent intoxicating.

"Hi," I whispered.

"Hey..." she replied, fingers playing with my hair, weaving through it like she'd never let go.

I didn't say anything after that. I leaned in, claiming her lips with a hunger that had built for months. My hands trailed from her waist down to her thighs, lifting her gently yet firmly as her legs instinctively wrapped around my waist. Our kiss burned with passion, our tongues moving in perfect rhythm, hearts pounding in unison. I held her as if the world could vanish around us, unwilling to let her go.

We stayed like that, lost in each other, until a clearing of a throat snapped us back to reality. We pulled apart slightly, hearts still racing, and turned to see Mom Melinda standing there, arms crossed, an eyebrow raised.