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“I have never been prouder of you than right in this moment,” he says, awestruck. He presses a kiss to my lips, and I savor the moment, breathing him in deeply. “You are incredible, and I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life making sure you know that.”
“Maverick . . .”
“You fancy it, Bumblebee?” he asks, tilting his head. “A lifetime with me?”
“I want every lifetime with you, Maverick Brady,” I answer, laughter bubbling out of me. “But I swear if this is your idea of a proposal, I’m walking away right now.”
He shakes his head, his lips finding mine once more, as they do so often these days. “Nope, that’s not the proposal, babe. But just know it’ll happen. And if you do walk away from me, I’ll follow. Wherever you go . . . that’s where I’m heading too.”
“You promise?”
“Every single day, for the rest of my life.”
Epilogue One
Beatrice
Fall semester . . .
Momleansagainstmydoorframe, smiling softly as she watches me haul the last of my bags over my shoulder. “Hey, honey, are you ready to go?”
“Yeah, I think so.” I glance around my bedroom as I pull the zipper on my duffel closed. The scene is so like this day last year, though so different too.
Last time, I was riddled with anxiety, doubting the decision to pack up my life and move to college. And yes, the bubbles of anxiety are still there, lingering in the pits of my stomach. But I know I’m making the right choice this time.
I zero in on the collection of Mickey and Minnie ears pinned at the side of my bed, and a smile splits my lips. Souvenirs of a summer spent living; memories I’ll cherish for a lifetime.
I could take them with me, but I’m leaving them here as a promise to my mom and dad—a promise Maverick and I made to them at the start of the summer when we made the decision to rent an apartment together near the campus, a home to build on together, for our future—the promise that no matter how far I fly from the nest, I’ll always come back to say hello.
The relationship I have with my parents is stronger than it’s ever been, thanks to many open conversations in family therapy surrounding their guilt of the situations I’ve found myself in, and my own issues surrounding them giving up everything for me back then. It turns out, I held a lot of pent-up resentment I was never willing to talk about.
Even Maverick’s parents, and Willow, came to a few, as we tried to wade our way through the years of lingering trauma. Things aren’t always perfect, and there are still things we have to work on; but we’re getting there, one day at a time.
While the group sessions have stopped, I continue to speak to my therapist weekly, knowing I still have a long way to go on my healing journey. And maybe I’ll never fully heal. There may always be pieces of me shattered beyond repair. But I know I’ll walk in the sun again, without the shadows following my every step. It may take me a while, but I know it’s coming and I can’t wait for that day.
“Okay,” Mom says, rushing into my room and throwing her arms around me. “God, I’m going to miss you.”
“Mom.” I chuckle, patting her on the back. She breathes me in, running her hand over my ponytail.
“Let me bask in this final hug with my daughter.”
“This isn’t our final hug, you weirdo,” I say, but instead of pushing her away, I tighten my hold on her too, relishing in this moment. “We’ll be home over the holidays, and you can always come visit me.”
“I know,” she says, pulling in a deep breath before letting me go. “But it feels different this time. Something is telling me this really is the last time you’ll call this your home. When you leave, you’re going to your own place, to create your own family and a new life.”
“Mom.” My lips quiver, and I blink away the tears that threaten.
“It’s a good thing, Beatrice. It’s the best thing in the world to watch your children grow and thrive without you. But it doesn’t make the goodbyes any easier.”
“I love you, Mom,” I whisper over the lump forming in my throat.
“Oh, my baby,” she says, her eyes watery. Even now, after months of hearing the words from my mouth, she still fights the same waves of emotions she did that first day in the hospital.
“I love you too.” She chuckles, grabbing my bag and placing it over my shoulder. “So much more than you’ll ever know.” She pats me on the back, nudging me to the door. “Now, go, get out of here before I embarrass myself by crying into your bedsheets.”
“Okay, I’m gone,” I say, taking the steps out of my bedroom.
My mom is being slightly dramatic, but I feel it too. When Dad told me last year it was my time, I didn’t believe him then. But now I do. I believe in the change that’s coming when I step out of this house and get into my car, knowing my future waits for me . . .and what a future it will be.
