Page 67 of No More Love Songs

EPILOGUE

SKYLAR

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“Is this a joke?” Iask, taking the new mug from the shelf and holding it out toward Kit, who’s busy making breakfast with Mavis while Ari sits at the breakfast bar, sampling everything they put up.

“Are you making fun of my work?” Kit asks, wiping his hands on a towel before he comes over to take the cup from my hands. “I made this mug myself.”

“You did?” I narrow my eyes skeptically. I still get the distinct sense he’s messing with me.

“Yes,” he insists. “The day we all went to the Scrap and Paste.”

My face reacts before I can stop it and it’s enough for Kit to catch my disappointment.

“Not what you were expecting?” he teases.

“I mean...” No. Not at all. That day my crushing little heart had grand hopes the mountain man was crafting something sweet for me. Not the case, it turns out. “The way you were being all mysterious about it, did sort of leave the impression you had plans to surprise me with something.”

“Oh, I did.” He turns the cup around in his hands, taking it in turns to look at it and then at me. “I had big plans to surprise you.”

Now I’m sure he’s screwing with me. I look to Ari and Mavis for confirmation but notice both of them actively avoiding eye contact. Which actually confirms things just as well. “You had plans to surprise me. With a coffee mug that has ‘Kit’s Mug’ written on it in big letters.”

“Yes.” He sets down the cup he’s holding and retrieves another from the shelf. His old mug. The one I took over my first morning here.

“Are you making a point about me stealing your mug?” I ask.

“I am making a point,” he says, holding the cup to his chest as if he has plans to take it back. “If you shut up for a second and let me get to it, you’ll see it has nothing to do with your stealing my mug.”

My mouth opens. But all I have is more arguments, arguments, I sense I’ll be losing if I attempt to continue. So, I shut up. And I listen.

“This mug,” he says, holding up the one I laid claim to, “was my grandfather’s.”

I’m about to blurt out how I knew it was sacred, and how he should have told me, but his free hand moves up, wagging his finger at me to stop before I get started.

Once he’s sure I swallowed down my desire to interrupt, he continues, “When he died, this was the only thing I wanted of his. And once it was mine, I never let anyone else use it. Because it was more than just his coffee mug, it was the love he shared with my grandmother.” He smiles softly, and the light of it reaches his eyes, making the blue shine brighter than normal. “See, my grandmother gave him this mug the morning she realized she wanted to spend every morning of the rest of her life drinking coffee with him.” He holds up the cup like it’s on display, waiting for me to notice it’s significance. “She didn’t just offer him a cup of coffee when she did. She proposed.”

My fingers move to cover my mouth. I will physically push every rambling thought back in if I have to. No way am I interrupting him now.

My efforts don’t go unnoticed, and Kit chuckles quietly before he goes on. “I could have asked you not to use it, but I didn’t want to.” He nods at the new cup he made with his name on it. “So, I made myself a new mug. Because I knew then, one day I’d ask you to spend every morning for the rest of your life, drinking coffee...with me.” Slowly, he starts to lower himself to one knee. As he goes down and the mug is lowered with him, I see it. Inside the cup. A sparkling stone sitting atop a golden band.

“This is happening,” I breathe the words, hoping if I hear them, I will believe them.

“This is happening.” He smiles and every inch of his handsome face is beaming back the love he holds for me. “Are you ready?”

“Are you? It’s barely been two months.”

He slides the ring on my finger, getting to his feet and pulling me toward me. “Sky, I didn’t need two days,” he growls before he crushes his lips to mine, drowning out every lingering doubt inside me.

“Yes, I’m ready,” I whisper into his kiss.

I can hear Ari and Mavis cheering somewhere in the background as I sink into a bliss unlike any my soul has ever held. I was crazy thinking I could ever stop holding out hope I’d find this. Crazier still for pretending I didn’t know, in my heart, that this man was my home from the moment I sat across from him at Gray’s kitchen table and he told me I was missing in my music. It was that second, I knew he could see me. I knew I was found.

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The End.