Like the bird inked onto my skin, a reminder that I was never caged. I was always meant to fly. Not to escape my past, but to learn how to carry it… lighter, stronger, freer with every step forward.
What are you ready to let go of?
THE END… and the beginning.
Epilogue
Jenna: Two Years Later
Some truths are meant to burn. Some lies are meant to last forever.
I wake up drenched in a cold sweat. But for once, I’m smiling. Dylan’s beside me, snoring like a bear and hogging the covers—again.
“I made it,” I whisper. “The bridge… it’s gone. Burned to the ground. No more shadows. Black crows turned to doves. Just… calm.”
My fingers trace the slight curve in his belly. He swears he grew it when I carried a watermelon in my belly for ten months. God, I love him. Somehow, he’s even sexier. Maybe because he’s mine, all freaking mine.
Almost two years after we reunited at my business launch, we’ve got a newborn baby, a blended family, and a wild, joyful life.
“Mommyyyyyy! Dilly!” Ava storms into the room, launching herself onto the bed. “It’s my birthday! Can we go horseback riding?”
Dylan groans, rubbing his face. “Only if Mommy lets me ride with my eyes closed again.” He lifts a brow. “And you stop calling me Dilly.”
“Absolutely not.” I poke him in the ribs. “Eyes wide open, Dilly.”
Then the baby monitor blares. Great timing. The tiny boss of the house demands immediate attention.
Lily crashes in next, dragging Wobbles along like an emotional support animal who probably needs more therapy than I did living in this house. Her face is set in full teenage mode—bored, mildly annoyed, and way too dramatic for seven-thirty in the morning.
“Ugh, I’m starving. Can we make pancakes? Or do I have to settle for soggy cereal?”
Just as I open my mouth to respond, our three dogs come charging in like furry missiles. Tails wagging. Barking loudly. Instantly sending Wobbles into full-on defense mode.
“Oh my God,” Dylan says, shoving a hand through his messy hair. “We’re under attack.”
It’s pure chaos. Beautiful. Noisy. Wonderful chaos. And I wouldn’t change a second of it.
Later that day, Ava’s tenth birthday takes over the ranch. Balloons float in the breeze, horses graze nearby, and the scent of barbecue hangs in the air. Dylan’s mom laughs with mine, bonding over their grandkids. Jacob’s parents are still too busy to be here, but at least he’s here with his new wife, Calista, thedental assistant. She’s sweet. Quiet. Follows the rules. The kind of woman he always felt safe with. I’m truly happy for them.
Dylan and Jacob? They’ve kept it civil. Cordial. No drama. But they never bonded over my mediocre meatloaf. Turns out, ex-husbands and ex-lover baby daddies don't become besties in the end. It’s just ‘pass the salt… thank you.’ Life’s moved on.
As for Dylan’s dad, he’s living in the guest house on the ranch, staying close yet far enough to give us space. He’s still the same grumpy, functional alcoholic, but he stays out of the way.
Izzy’s the loudest voice in the room. “Alright, alright, can we talk about the baby’s name?” She bats her eyelashes dramatically. “We can’t keep calling him ‘Baby.’”
Ava chimes in, “Mr. Pank! Because I like pink. And Pank sounds more like a boy’s name.”
Lily rolls her eyes. “That’s not even a real name.”
“Is too! We can call him Panky!” Ava insists.
Dylan chuckles, eyes full of amusement. “She already vetoed Diesel and Boone. But maybe we can convince your mom with that one.”
Izzy never misses a beat. “Yes, Hanky Panky. Love that one, Avie. Or…” She pauses, raising her brows. “What about something sexy? Denzel… mmm, like Denzel Washington. Or… Christian! Like Christian Grey fromFifty Shades of Grey. You’re welcome. Ladies will be lining up at daycare.”
“Ugh.” I let out a sharp breath. “No Hanky Panky. No motor oil. And no sexy names.” I hesitate… then it hits me.
“Oh my God!” I whirl toward Izzy and kiss her! “I got it!"
