Chapter 171 Epilogue: Home
Six months later.
Aria stood in front of the mirror and did not recognize herself.
Not because something was wrong.
Because everything was right.
The wedding dress was exactly what she had always imagined without ever letting herself imagine it too clearly. Ivory, fitted through the bodice, with a skirt that moved when she did and a neckline that was simple enough to feel like her. No excess. No performance. Just the dress she would have chosen if she had believed, at any point before now, that she was allowed to choose it.
Maya stood behind her, her eyes suspiciously bright.
“Don’t,” Aria said.
“I’m not doing anything,” Maya said.
“You’re about to cry.”
“I am absolutely not about to cry.”
She was absolutely about to cry.
Aria turned slightly, catching her reflection from a different angle. Her hand moved without thought to the small curve of her stomach, visible now beneath the fabric, present in a way she was still getting used to.
She had not expected this part.
Or rather, she had not expected it yet. The timing had surprised them both, and Kane had spent approximately forty eight hours in a state of barely contained joy that he expressed through the same means that got her pregnant in the first place.
“You look beautiful,” Maya said, her voice steadier now.
Aria met her eyes in the mirror.
“So do you,” she said.
Maya laughed softly, smoothing the front of her dress.
“Marcus is going to lose his mind,” Aria said.
“Good,” Maya replied. “He deserves to suffer a little.”
Aria smiled.
Outside the door, she could hear movement. She closed her eyes for a moment.
She thought about Elder Morgana.
She always did, in the quiet moments. The old woman would have positioned herself somewhere with a clear sightline to everything and made exactly three cutting observations before anyone reached the altar. She would have cried and denied it afterward.
Aria missed her with a sharpness that never fully dulled.
But she felt her here.
She did not know how to explain that. She simply did.
“Ready?” Maya asked.
Aria opened her eyes.
“Yes,” she said.
The garden had been transformed.
Not into something unrecognizable. Into something more fully itself. White flowers wound through the arch at the end of the aisle. Soft light filtered through the trees. The chairs held the people who mattered, not many, not a crowd, just the ones who had earned their place in this story by staying in it.
Aria saw Kane before he saw her.
He stood at the altar in a dark suit that fit him the way everything fit him, like it had been made with no one else in mind. Marcus stood beside him, composed and correct and wearing the expression of a man taking his responsibilities seriously.
Then Kane turned.
And whatever composure he had walked in with shifted in a way that was immediate and visible and entirely unguarded.
He looked at her the way he always did when he forgot to be careful about it.
Like she was the only thing in the room worth looking at.
Aria kept walking.
At the front of the aisle, Leo stood with the ring pillow held in both hands, his small face arranged in an expression of tremendous seriousness. He had been practicing. He had told Aria this several times. She had no doubt he would execute his responsibilities flawlessly and accept all subsequent praise with grace.
Behind her, she could hear the careful footsteps of Lily and Emma, moving together, scattering petals with the focused intensity of children given an important task. She had peeked before the ceremony. Emma had held Lily’s hand the entire walk from the door.
She had needed a moment after that.
She reached Kane.
He did not say anything immediately.
He looked at her for a long second, taking in the dress, the flowers in her hair, the curve beneath the fabric that was their future making itself known, and his expression did something complicated and quiet and completely sincere.
Then he reached for her hand.
“Hi,” he said.
Aria laughed.
Soft and surprised and completely genuine.
“Hi,” she said back.
The ceremony was simple.
The words were the right ones, not because they were elaborate, but because they were true. Kane said his without looking away from her. Aria said hers without her voice breaking, which she considered a personal achievement.
Leo delivered the rings without incident and looked extremely pleased with himself.
When it was done, Kane kissed her the way he did everything that mattered to him. Deliberately. Like he had decided and there was nothing left to consider.
The people around them applauded.
Aria barely heard it.
Later, when the light had shifted and the garden held the particular golden warmth of an evening winding down, Aria stood at the edge of it all and watched.
Maya and Marcus, close together, his hand at the small of her back. Leo explaining something to Emma with great enthusiasm while Emma listened with an expression that suggested she was humoring him. Lily had fallen asleep on one of the chairs and no one had the heart to move her.
Kane came to stand beside her.
He did not say anything at first.
Neither did she.
They stood together in the quiet and watched the people they loved exist in the same space, safe and present and theirs.
Then Aria spoke.
“This feels like a dream,” she said.
Kane looked at her.
“Does it?” he asked.
“Yes.” She kept her eyes on the garden, on all of it. “You. The children. This day.” Her hand moved to her stomach. “This.”
Kane was quiet for a moment.
“Should I pinch you?” he asked.
Aria smiled.
She shook her head slowly.
“No,” she said.
She leaned into him, and his arm came around her without hesitation, solid and certain and exactly where it had always belonged.
“If this is a dream,” she said quietly, “I never want to wake up.”
Kane pressed his lips to the top of her head.
And said nothing.
Because some things did not need an answer.
That night, they stood together once more, alone in the quiet that had become peaceful instead of empty.
Aria leaned against Kane, her head resting against his chest.
The children were asleep. The house held the particular warmth of a day that had given everything it had and left nothing unfinished.
“I used to think this was not possible for me,” she said softly.
Kane’s arms tightened around her slightly.
“Which part,” he said.
Aria considered that.
“All of it,” she said. “The safety. The family.” She paused. “You.”
Kane was quiet for a moment.
“And now?” he asked.
Aria looked up at him.
“Now I cannot imagine any other life,” she said.
Kane held her gaze for a moment, then pressed his lips to her forehead.
“Neither can I,” he said.
Aria settled back against his chest, her hand resting over her stomach.
Kane placed his hand over hers, holding on gently.
Neither of them spoke again for a long time.
They didn’t need to.
The past had settled.
The future had already begun.
And in that moment, there was nothing left to fight.
Only something to live for.
The End.