Page 208 of Halo

A furrow my eyebrows. “I don't get it.”

A wicked grin pulls across my face. “Open the cover, silly.”

I open the cover to find a sweet, simple note, written by her.

To the love of my life,

Whatever you want today, it’s yours.

Just ask.

I’ll say yes.

Love,

Forever Yours

I look from the note to her. “Darlin’ … does this mean …?”

Her lips curve, coy as hell. “It means … exactly what you think it means—” she lifts a shoulder—“whatever you want.”

“You sure you wanna give me that kind of power?”

Her eyes soften. “Maybe I’m counting on you to use it.”

I kiss her hard enough to steal the smile off her lips before forcing myself back into my seat.

I start the truck.

She giggles. “Where are we going, Cowboy?”

I take her hand, kissing her knuckles as I pull onto the road.

“First stop? To make you my bride.”

Epilogue

Nick

December

Three Years Later

“We're home!” I call out, locking the front door behind me. “Sorry we’re late!”

Grady runs in ahead of me through the foyer, dropping his duffel bag and ballet slippers, and heading to the dimly lit living room.

“Grady!” I blow out a heavy sigh before picking up his dance gear. “We talked about this…” I grumble, but he can't hear me. The excitement from The Nutcracker dress rehearsal is fading fast, and Mouse #2 already has his noise-cancelling headphones on.

Shrugging off my jacket, the rustic aroma of thyme and rosemary teases my senses. I follow after my son, and I am instantly greeted by the twinkle of a thousand string lights. Our eight-foot fir tree is beautifully adorned with silver and gold ornaments, illuminated by the glow of the fireplace. Nat King Cole plays softly in the background as my wife—my stunning bride with her adorable short curls—hums along to the classic Christmas carol.

Life after cancer has been hard on Leah in ways neither of us expected. Her battle with it was fucking brutal, and as her partner, I tried to prepare myself for her darkest days. But no one ever warned me about the after. No one warned me about the fear. The guilt. The anger.

She wasn’t expecting it either. Between the changes to her body, the distance that's grown between her and her family, and the slow unraveling of the faith she was raised in, she's spent the last few years quietly battling depression. In true Leah fashion, she's fine—or at least that's what she'd tell you. Shortly after we got married, she stopped attending her family's church, but agreed to seek help in a different way: through a wonderful therapist named Pauline.

After her two-year check-up with no evidence of disease, Leah rallied, feeling like herself again. She started substitute teaching last year and has since returned full-time—this time, in second grade, working alongside Chelsea. She volunteers regularly at the Gulf Waters Animal Shelter—same place she adopted Angus—and has even joined a book club with the girls. Finding her stride again is what led us to buy this house over the summer because she really wanted to entertain again.

Tonight is our third annual Friendsmas party with the Santiagos and Ramsdales, and my wife is like a kid going to Disney World. She started preparing for this as soon as the holiday decorations hit the craft stores in July. Her sense of taste hasn't fully returned, but she's turned into quite the cook. I'm still the reigning champ of the household—she'll admit that—but after all the time we've spent in the kitchen together, she's closing the gap.