Home, at Last - Epilogue

Raisel’s POV

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, warm and soft, like a kiss from the universe after a long, restless storm. I stirred in bed, feeling more rested than I had in days. My body still ached slightly from the newness of motherhood, but my heart felt full—overflowing, actually.

I padded through the apartment, still quiet with the peaceful hush of early morning. I found Soren in Aurelia’s room, the soft light of dawn casting a golden hue over him as he carefully adjusted her tiny blanket. His every movement was tender, deliberate. This man—the same one who used to grumble about morning alarms—was now up before me, checking on our daughter.

After his routine—breakfast, meds, and his usual black coffee—he turned to me and smiled.

“Don’t worry about Aurelia,” he said, pouring a second cup for himself. “I’ve got her.”

It had only been four days since we brought her home. Four days. And yet, Soren had slipped so effortlessly into fatherhood, like it had always been inside him, just waiting for the moment to bloom. My chest swelled with pride.

I walked over and kissed him on the cheek, my lips lingering a little longer than usual. “I left a bottle in the fridge,” I said softly.

“Just in case she gets hungry.”

He nodded, his eyes meeting mine—and then, traveling downward. His gaze roamed across my body, unapologetic, drinking me in like I was the most intoxicating thing he’d ever seen.

Pregnancy had changed my body—stretched it, softened it. I hadn’t felt beautiful in a long time. But under Soren’s gaze, the shame and doubt evaporated.

I saw myself through his eyes—and I saw love.

He stepped closer, brushing his lips against my forehead, as if sealing a silent promise between us.

A sigh slipped from him.

“What is it?” I asked, tilting my head.

“Nothing,” he mumbled, suddenly shifting his weight.

Then I saw it—the telltale bulge in his pajama pants. Heat rose to his cheeks.

A snort of laughter escaped me, and his eyes narrowed in playful warning.

“Hey! Don’t act all innocent and then hide that smile,” he teased, pointing a finger at my mouth.

His flirtation, unfiltered and honest, always made my knees weak. But the fire in his eyes—the desire, the longing—it was almost too much. I had to look away, or I’d melt into him.

“You... you still find me attractive?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. Vulnerability wrapped itself around every word.

Without hesitation, Soren closed the distance between us. He cupped my face with both hands, the roughness of his palms grounding me in the moment.

“Raisel,” he said softly, “you are sexier now than you’ve ever been. I don’t care how your body changes. I’ll never stop loving you.

Never stop wanting you. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. Don’t let insecurity speak louder than my love for you. And if it tries—

just tell me. I’ll fight it with you.”

Tears welled up in my eyes. I couldn’t speak, so I didn’t try. I just let his lips find mine—soft, slow, reverent. A kiss that didn’t just say “I love you,” but “I see you. I choose you. Every day.”

This kind of love—this safe, affirming, life-altering love—I never thought I’d have it. But I was living it. Breathing it.

Until the phone rang.

I sighed, already missing the bubble we had been wrapped in.

Hazel.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” I said into the receiver.

Soren brushed my arm as I walked past. “Stay safe, love.”

I didn’t want to leave. Not when every part of me wanted to curl up with them both—my home, my heart.

Hazel had no chaperone today. She was behind the wheel of her sleek black car, looking focused. Fiora was curled up in the back, a tangled mess of hair and exhaustion.

“She have a late night work?” I asked as I slid in.

“Yeah. Told her to rest, but you know her,” Hazel said, shaking her head with fond exasperation.

“Classic Fiora,” I murmured, glancing at the dozing woman in the rearview mirror.

The ride to the boutique was quiet. Peaceful. We were always loud together, but today felt different—as if something unspoken hung in the air between us.

Hazel pulled into the parking space. “Wake her up?”

I gently touched Fiora’s shoulder. “Time to wake up, sleepyhead.”

Her groggy grunt made Hazel laugh. She handed over coffee cups she'd thoughtfully grabbed on the way. I sipped gratefully, letting the caffeine stir me back to life.

Inside, we were greeted by a woman with a bright smile.

“This is my friend Cath,” Hazel introduced. “Cath, meet my soul sisters.”

Cath gave us a warm nod. “So good to meet you both. Hazel never shuts up about you—don’t worry, it’s all good things.”

“Well, except the cranky part,” Fiora muttered.

Cath laughed. “That too.”

After a few laughs, Cath revealed a row of wedding dresses, one more stunning than the next.

“Raisel, can you try one on?” Hazel asked.

I blinked. “Why me?”

“She’s on her period,” Fiora explained with a shrug. “You both have the same body size.” It felt odd, but Hazel’s face was unreadable. She didn’t even look interested. I sighed and went along with it.

The first few dresses were just... okay. We laughed at some, winced at others. But then—the dress.

It was like the universe had stitched it together just for me.

A soft, shimmered ivory with delicate lace trailing down a corset bodice. The satin flowed into a gentle train, airy and romantic. I stood before the mirror and—for a moment—I wasn’t just wearing a wedding dress. I was becoming a bride again.

“Wow,” Fiora whispered, her face softening.

Hazel blinked, her mouth twitching. “Magic. That’s the one.”

I smiled, trying not to let myself get swept up in the feeling. “So... this is what you're wearing?” I asked Hazel, reminding myself I wasn’t the bride.

She nodded stiffly. Something in her posture made me pause.

Later, as I stepped out of the dress and back into my clothes, fatigue hit me like a wave.

“I need to get back to Aurelia,” I said quietly.

Hazel nodded. “I’ll drop you. But let’s eat something first.”

“I’d rather eat at home...”

“Nope. You’re eating.”

We went to a nearby diner, shared fries and sandwiches, and yet—I barely tasted anything. My eyes kept drifting to my phone. No message from Soren. No sign of needing help. But my heart longed to be home with my baby.

When we returned to the boutique, Hazel said the dress was ready to take home. I wanted to protest—I was done—but I stayed silent.

Then came nails, hair, and shopping. I tried to be present, to laugh, to join the fun. But my heart ached for my daughter.

Finally, as we stepped outside, I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Hazel, please. Drop me home.”

She studied me for a beat. “Yeah... sorry.”

But instead of heading toward home, the road curved a different way.

“Hazel? Where are we going?”

“To Aurelia,” she said gently.

Confused, I turned to the window. And that’s when I saw it.

A beach-facing hotel lit up like a dream. Twinkling lights. White drapes dancing in the sea breeze. A red carpet. Flowered pillars. And beyond them—a gazebo.

My heart hammered.

“What is this?” I whispered.

I stepped forward slowly, almost afraid to breathe. Following the signs, I rounded the corner—and there he was.

Soren.

Holding Aurelia in his arms.

He looked breathtaking. Not in a tux—just a crisp white shirt, blue jeans, sleeves rolled up. Casual. Authentic. Mine.

“Raisins,” he began, voice a little shaky.

“What’s happening?” I asked, tears already stinging my eyes.

“I’ve never been great with words,” he admitted. “But I know this—I love you. And I want to spend every day showing you just how much. Will you marry me?”

He held out a ring. Bigger, brighter than before. But it wasn’t the diamond that took my breath—it was the look in his eyes.

“Yes,” I whispered. “Yes... I’ve wanted this all along.”

We kissed, slow and sure, the waves behind us crashing like applause.

“So,” Soren grinned, “why wait?”

My eyes widened. “You mean today?”

“There’s an officiant. Your dress. Everything’s ready. You in?”

I laughed, overcome with joy. “You sneaky, beautiful man.”

In a nearby hotel suite, my friends transformed into my bridal squad. The pink dresses they wore—my favorite shade. Even Jace arrived, dressed to perfection. Hazel handed me a bouquet of soft roses. Everything felt like a fairy tale.

Killian showed up, grinning.

“You came,” I said, stunned.

“You’re getting married. Of course I did.”

He walked me down the aisle.

And there was Soren—now in a sleek black tux, Aurelia nestled in Jace’s arms, her tiny pink shoes kicking gently.

We said our vows.

“I do,” I whispered.

“I do,” he said, sliding the ring on my finger.

“You may kiss the bride.”

And just like that, we were one.

The small reception was full of love. Roacher, my mom's team—everyone who mattered was there. We danced. We laughed. We cut the cake.

Soren and I stood for a photo, Aurelia between us.

My family.

“My husband,” I whispered, tears threatening again.

“My wife,” he smiled. “Love you forever.”

He kissed my cheek as we climbed into the car, driving home—not just as two lovers—but as something bigger.

A family. A beginning. A forever.