Epilogue
Cadence
“What are you doing?” he grumbles, sleepiness making his amused tone gruff.
I pop my head up from my spot between his legs, bunching the sheet around the back of my neck. “Are you about to complain that I’m waking you up this way?”
He leans up on his elbows, his hair mussed from his pillow and looking sexy as hell—which is why I am where I am right now. “Complain is not the right word. At all.” Those dimples nearly knock me on my ass.
“I didn’t think so.” With his erection in my hand, I take him into my mouth, all the way to the back of my throat.
His head falls back as a guttural moan leaves his mouth.
Then I hollow out my cheeks as I release him. “I found something sweet in your fridge this morning,” I explain before licking up his length. “My toast wasn’t plain for once here.” I swirl my tongue around his tip, keeping eye contact with him as I speak. “And I have you to thank for that.”
He cocks his head to the side. “If I’d known that this would be your thank-you, I would have bought that blasphemous grape shit a long time ago.”
“Only took you three months to buy it for me.” I let him go and crawl up his gloriously naked body to kiss his lips.
He lifts my T-shirt—actually, it’s one of his—over my head so we’re skin to skin. “And it only took you one to find our perfect house,” he whispers against my lips, holding on to my waist.
“Matthew. It’s kinda what I do,” I say, leaning in to touch my nose to his.
“You’re the only one who calls me that,” he tells me, his breath fanning over my mouth. “I love that.” He captures my lips with his, so I part my mouth to let his tongue in.
They glide together as we kiss, and I run my fingers through his hair, which elicits one of his sexy groans.
“I can’t believe we’re moving in tomorrow.” He cups my cheeks and then runs his hands down my shoulders.
I freeze, hoping I’m reading too far into his words. “Are you still sure you want to? My place hasn’t sold yet, so—”
He cuts me off with another deep, soul-tingling kiss. “Stop. Seriously, I’m okay. Totally in, just like I said yesterday and the day before that and the day before that…” As he trails off, he stares me in the eyes and brushes some hair behind my ear. “I love you.”
“I love you too. I just want to make sure you’re okay,” I tell him, resting my bottom on his legs. “Commitment doesn’t come easy for us, and I know I’m all in, but you…” I take a deep breath. “It’s only been a few months and I’m not trying to rush you.”
He rises so we’re face-to-face again while sitting up. “I know. And I appreciate that. But we’ve talked about this.” His lips touch my nose. “You’re not her. What she did is in the past. I’m moving on with my life.” One of his hands brushes my bangs out of my face. “With you.”
I can’t contain my smile. Knowing that he’s putting Joyce’s horrible choices behind him and starting a life with me is everything. It’s been a hard few months with him learning how to trust all over again, but he says that I’ve helped him tremendously. That already having me in his life, showing him that love is possible again, made all the difference when she dropped the final bomb on him.
And we’ve talked about other ways to react when shit hits the fan. No more dropping off the face of the Earth and applying a Band-Aid made of beer. We’re here for each other, being open and honest—the only way it works between us.
While I’m ecstatic that he’s not thinking about running for the hills, I can’t stay like this with him all day. So I sigh and roll off him.
“Hey!” He reaches out to try to catch me, but he’s still half-asleep and too slow. “Where are you going?”
As I shimmy my underwear on, I flash a duh gaze over my shoulder. “Don’t tell me you forgot.”
He throws his own duh gaze right back at me. “You think that disgusting grape jelly was in my refrigerator this morning by accident?”
I grin as I go back to getting dressed. “Then you know exactly where I’m going. You know where to be and when?”
“That I do,” he says, passing by me to go into the bathroom, swatting my ass on the way in. Once he’s turned the shower on, he pops back out, leans in for a kiss, and whispers, “Good luck. You’re gonna do great. I’ll see you at the finish line.” Then he opens the shower door and steps under the spray.
Smiling, I finish putting my gear on for my run. My marathon run. The thing I’ve trained so hard for these past several months. The thing Matthew has trained with me for too. We’ve spent evenings in the gym together, weekends finding trails to run long distances, and mornings sprinting for conditioning. He was there for me, encouraging me, every step of the way. And that’s one of the many things I love about him.
Our strings are attached, but I’m still in control of many of them. Just as he is. We’re partners and equals. We make time for ourselves, but we make time for each other too. We’re busy as hell, but in the end, it works.
And tomorrow will make it even easier. One house. One home to choose from to go to at the end of the night. One place that is ours together. More strings. More chances to be honest. Just the way we like it.
∞∞∞
Matt
The moment she crosses the finish line, tears of joy burst from her eyes. Even I find my eyes a little misty as her mother and her sister wrap her up in a big group hug. She’s worked so hard to accomplish something so important to her, and the pride I feel in my heart is nearly overwhelming,
It’s been amazing to watch her progress over the last few months. While I’ve had my battles to fight, she has too. She may have thought she was helping to save me, but she was saving herself in the process.
So much of her internal fight was due to not being true to herself. And she was so worried that, by choosing to start a new relationship, she’d be untrue to who she is: an independent woman who felt the need to prove herself. But I think she’s realizing that she doesn’t need a majorly successful job or a marathon under her belt to prove how incredible she is.
She helped plan her sister’s wedding. She’s always there for her mother when she needs her. And, now, she’s there for me. Those things are important too—not just what she achieves in work or by pushing her body.
Her mother and her sister unwind from the sweaty embrace and then say their goodbyes to Cadence. She waves as they head back to their cars, her smile as wide as the ocean. When I get my turn with my girlfriend and wrap my arms around her, she shakes with her sobs. So I rub her back and praise her against her ear.
“You did so good, baby. I’m so, so proud of you. You’re amazing,” I tell her. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too.” She quakes even harder. “I can’t believe I did that.” A forceful laugh bubbles up her throat, as if she’s amazed at herself that she accomplished that feat.
I’m not. I always knew she had it in her. I could tell from the moment she went home with me even though she was drunk. Cadence Griffith gets what she wants when she sets her mind to it.
And boy am I glad she set her mind to me.
“I believe it,” I tell her, squeezing her harder. “You do everything you put your mind to. This is so not surprising.”
When she pulls away from me and I smile at her, I receive another laugh. This one is much more Cadence than the previous one, and the sun shining on her perfect face, highlighting her angelic cheekbones and her cute little nose, makes my heart squeeze. So I take her hand and lead her over to the picnic tables where they have water, bananas, and apples for the marathon finishers.
She grabs an apple from the basket and bites into it, still breathing hard from her hours of exertion.
I snag a bottle of water—mostly for her—uncap it, and take a swig. Then I hand it to her, and she takes it and plops down on the bench of the farthest picnic table. Perfect.
“Oh, it feels so good to not use my legs,” she laughs, wiping sweat off her forehead.
“I bet,” I joke, taking a seat next to her and putting a hand on her thigh.
She takes another bite of her apple. After a deep breath, she sighs. “Thanks for being here for me.”
“Of course,” I tell her. “I’m glad your mom and Gina were here too.”
“Me too,” she says around a piece of apple. Then she covers her mouth and laughs when food spits out of her mouth.
It’s a light, happy moment. The perfect moment to do what I’m about to do.
I glance around to make sure we’re relatively alone. When I’m satisfied that we’re not within hearing distance of most people, I stand, face her, and get down on one knee.
Her eyes flash wide and her hand stays over her mouth, so I don’t have one to hold. When I hold my hand out for one of hers, she quickly spins toward the table to set her apple down. Then she gives me her sticky hand and we both chuckle.
“Matthew,” she sighs, a dreamy quality to her tone. “You don’t have to do this.” She’s still smiling behind her hand, so I know she’s just saying it.
“But I’m going to,” I insist. “And you can say no. I know it’s early and we’re only just moving in together, but I want it to be permanent. I want you to know how serious I am, how much I love you. I want all the strings now, baby. All of them. Attached straight to you.”
As she lowers her hand from her mouth, I reach into my pocket and produce a small, light-gray box. And, when I open it, her hand flies right back to its previous position and she gasps.
A ring with a piece of string tied around the diamond shines up at her.
“Marry me, Cade. Maybe not this year or next year. Maybe not in the ten years. I don’t care when. I just want my ring on your finger and you in my bed.” I take the ring out of the box. “We’ll make time for dates while you’re crushing marathons and selling all the houses. We’ll figure out the future one step at a time, and if you want to try new things and set other goals, we’ll figure that out too. Whatever you want,” I tell her as I hold the ring out to her finger. “Because you don’t judge me for my past and you don’t let me live confined by it. We are so good for each other. As long as we’re honest and together. Okay?”
She vigorously nods.
“Is that a yes?” I ask for clarification, flashing my dimples at her for good measure.
“Yes!” she shouts, her head tipped back and a giggle slipping out. Then she looks at me again and says, “Yes. To strings. To honesty. To no more favors and lies.” She pushes her finger forward so the ring slides on, and it’s a perfect fit. “To us.”
“To us,” I agree before squeezing her hand and rising to kiss her lips.
She snakes her arms around my neck and squeezes me to her. Then she kisses me again, deep and reassuring. In this moment, she tastes like apple and honesty. Like all the strings I could ever ask for. Like we’re meant to be.
Like the first day of the rest of our lives.
And I’ve never been happier about the idea of sharing my life with someone else. Cadence is it for me, and I’m glad we’re both so on board with being open and honest. Now, she knows how I feel, what my intentions are. And she’s on the same page. Which feels like more than I could ever ask for.
How I got so lucky, I’ll never know. But I won’t waste any time making the most of it.
Even though the woman prefers grape jelly over strawberry jam, I’ll live, and that thought makes me chuckle. With Cade, life with strings is pretty sweet. And that’s the most incredible feeling in the world.
When we break apart, she excitedly says, “Come with me! I have something for you too.”
“For me?” I ask as she drags me along by my hand, toward her car.
“Yep!” But that's all she says until we get to our destination. Then she reaches into her back seat and pulls out a brown box. “Here. I found someone selling this online and thought it'd make up for the one I broke.”
I take the box from her, squinting at it. She hasn't broken anything as far as I remember—and that includes my heart, thank goodness. So I can't think of what this could possibly be.
When I open it, though, the memory of that middle-of-the-night crash right before our first time together—which is why I forgot—comes back to me. Amber and teal gleam against the dull brown of the cardboard, and the shape of one of my grandpa's creations nearly brings tears to my eyes.
“You found this?” I barely get out around a rush of emotion. “For me?”
Her own eyes shine too. “Yeah,” she confirms. “It took me a while, but I finally located one. I could tell how much those meant to you…” She breaks off, but that’s all she needs to say.
She’s right. These do mean a lot to me. He had to stop making his art when he got sick, so there are only so many of these left in the world. To have another one means the world. And it’s just another reminder to give everything I have to this relationship while I’m able. If this isn’t a sign that I’m on the right track—that we’re on the right track—then I don’t know what is.
My phone rings in my pocket, which bursts the happy bubble, though only mildly. Not much can steal the joy of this moment.
Except perhaps the number that’s flashing on my screen.
I set the box with my grandpa’s art on the top of her car, and when I answer my cell, a familiar voice fills my ear.
“Hi. Is this Mr. Kent?” she asks.
“Yes. What is his regarding?” I say into my phone, a shiver running down my spine. It’s never good news when they have to call me.
Cadence gives me a concerned look, furrowing her brow and narrowing her eyes. Then she snakes an arm around my middle for support.
“This is Randi from Sunnyview Senior Center,” the woman says.
And then the words I never wanted to hear hit me like a Mack truck.
“You need to come down here right away,” she tells me, a seriousness I don’t like invading her ton.
I grip Cade tighter, fearing the worst. And then it comes.
“I'm sorry to tell you this, but your grandfather isn’t doing well.”
THE END
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