Epilogue: Ruby - Keeping Knight

6 Months Later — Ogunquit, Maine

I wasn’t sure how I’d feel coming back here.

“It’s just an idea,” Micah prefaced when he first brought it up. “But I thought you might like going back to Maine. You’ve always said how much you loved it there.”

At first, I wasn’t sure how to respond. I have always loved Maine. Some of my favorite memories come from there—walking by the ocean with my parents, picking up seashells and gently worn stones to add to my collection, watching saltwater taffy being made in York Beach, and shrieking as I ducked under the icy cold water because I wouldn’t have dreamt of not going in, no matter the temperature.

For all those things and more, I wanted to say yes. But there was a part of me that was scared to go back to Maine, too. Would the familiar sights bring comfort, or would they just make me miss my parents more?

“Nevermind,” Micah added when I took too long to answer. “We can go somewhere else instead. If you want to see the ocean, we can go to Nantucket. Or Hilton Head, if you’d like someplace warmer.”

But once the idea was out there, strangely, I didn’t want to let go of it. “Let me think about it,” I told him. “I’m not saying no. I just need a little time.”

As it turned out, I didn’t need much time at all. All day, I thought about Maine. It slipped in while I was finishing up my final edits on a manuscript. And again while I was jogging on the treadmill after work. Little memories kept resurfacing, and with each one, my heart would twang with longing.

“I’m thinking about going to Maine with Micah,” I told Grace when I talked to her that night. Grace knew about the trips I’d taken, first with both my parents, and then just my dad. “I want to go. But I’m afraid it’ll make me sad, too.”

“Why do you think it’ll make you sad?” Grace asked.

“Because I’ll remember all the things I used to do with my parents,” I replied. “It’ll make me miss them all over again.”

Grace paused to think. “Maybe. Or maybe it’ll make you feel closer to them.”

That stuck with me.

The following morning, I told Micah I wanted to go. “I’m not going to let my fear control me,” I explained. “I loved going to Maine. I looked forward to it all year. And I was thinking last night, what would my dad say if I asked him about it?”

“What would he say?” Micah asked. He took my hand in his and threaded his fingers between mine.

“He’d tell me to go.” Of that, I was sure. “He wouldn’t want me to stop enjoying something just because he couldn’t be there.”

“Are you sure? Because I don’t want you doing anything you’re not comfortable with. Or something that will make you sad.” Even months after everything happened with Henry, Micah was highly attuned to my feelings. If I even sniffled at a pet rescue commercial, he’d be right there, asking if I was okay, if I needed to go for a walk, or if there was anything he could do for me.

I couldn’t take offense at his overprotectiveness. He’d been there during the flashbacks and panic attacks and the days when I couldn’t bear to leave our house. He knew it had been a bumpy road, and he didn’t want anything to happen that might trigger me. And having been witness to Micah’s nightmares, I could understand how he felt.

“I’m sure,” I insisted. “My parents would be happy if I went back. And I would really like to make new memories there with you.”

Two months later, we’re here. In Ogunquit. Walking the same beach I used to when I was a kid. And while it was a little bittersweet when I first arrived, that feeling has passed. It feels right to be here. Like Grace suggested, being here makes me feel closer to my parents rather than farther away.

“Are you too cold?” Micah asks, and I startle slightly as his voice breaks into my thoughts. His features crease with concern, and he tightens his arm around me, drawing me close to his side. “Do you want my shirt to wear? Or do you want to head back?”

“I’m fine,” I assure him. It is a little chilly, but that’s expected for May, especially when the sun is still rising and the salty air carries a crisp breeze. “I’ve got all my layers on.” Glancing at his long-sleeved Henley, I add with a smile, “Although, I don’t think I’d mind if you took your shirt off.”

Micah’s lips quirk. “Oh, really?”

I release his hand so I can slide mine beneath the hem of his shirt. His abs tighten as I touch them. His gaze darkens with heat. “I never mind seeing you without a shirt.” Glancing around at the nearly-empty beach, I dip my fingers just below his waistband. “Or pants.”

“Ruby.” His tone is lightly scolding. “Are you putting the moves on me? Right here on a public beach?”

“And if I am?” I tease. “Do you have a problem with that?”

He regards me solemnly for a second. Then he pulls me to his chest and kisses me. When we break apart, he’s smiling. “Absolutely not. I will never have a problem with that. You can put the moves on me any time you want.”

Glancing past Micah, I notice a family with two little kids walking close to the waves. One of the kids—a little girl, it looks like—keeps darting into the water and racing back out, laughing like crazy every time. She reminds me a little of myself when I was that age, and rather than feeling sad about it, my chest fills with warmth.

She’s making memories. Memories she’ll hopefully carry with her for the rest of her life. And maybe, like me, she’ll come back as an adult to create new ones with her own family.

Family.

Mine might not look the same as it did back then, but I have a family, just the same. I have Jordan and Kylie and Grace. I have Sofia and Evie. I have four overprotective big brothers in Rogue, Wraith, Houdini, and Jester.

I have Sampson and our new puppy, Piper.

And Micah. The most important person of all.

Love swells large inside me as I look into Micah’s eyes. “I suppose I probably shouldn’t tear your clothes off right now. But once we’re back in our room…” I trace the ridges of his stomach muscles before pulling my hand out from beneath his shirt.

“Rue.” His voice goes low and rough. “Now I want to pick you up and take you back right now.”

“I guess we could watch the sunrise from the beach tomorrow,” I say. “If you want to carry me back to the hotel room, I wouldn’t say no.”

Micah hesitates before shaking his head. “No, we’re already out here. And these guys”—he angles his head at Sampson, then Piper, who are both eagerly sniffing the air with their ears perked and tails wagging—“certainly like it out here.”

“They do,” I agree. Reaching down, I give Sampson a quick scratch between his ears. Piper notices immediately and nudges my hand with her head.

“I didn’t forget about you,” I tell her as I stroke her sleek head. “You love the ocean, don’t you?”

Her tail whips into a frenzy. “I’d say that’s a yes,” Micah says with a laugh. “Although I can’t say I’m surprised. Labs are known for loving the water.”

I unwind Piper’s leash from around my hand, giving her more leeway to explore. I won’t let her off-leash like Micah will do with Sampson, since Piper’s still a puppy. For a ten-month-old, she’s doing extremely well—she knows all her basic commands, and according to Micah, she’s picking up defensive skills quickly. It’ll take at least another year until she’s fully trained in personal protection, but already, I feel safer when she’s with me.

It was about a month after everything went down with Henry at the condo, and Micah and I had just moved into our new brownstone, when Micah brought up the topic of getting a second dog. “How would you feel about getting your own dog?” he asked. “We could have it trained to provide personal protection and to help with your PTSD. Plus, with our new backyard, we’ve got the room. And I bet Sampson would like someone to play with.”

I knew Micah wanted the dog for his own reassurance as much as for me. He worried when he had to go out of town for work, or when he brought Sampson along with him on a job. He’d always coordinate to have his friends come to check on me, even if he was only gone for a night. If I had a personal protection dog that would always be with me, he’d worry a little less. And I knew it would make me feel better, too.

So I said yes. And Micah contacted a guy he knew from the Army, Griffin, who works out in central New York as a K9 officer for the Syracuse PD. Griffin knew someone who bred and trained labrador retrievers, so he made some calls, and within a matter of days, Micah and I were headed out to Rochester to meet Piper.

“She’s got a great temperament,” Briar, the trainer, told us. “Eager to please, highly trainable, and she’s fairly calm for the breed. I think she could be exactly what you’re looking for.”

And that was that. We made arrangements to adopt Piper, and two weeks later, we brought her home for good. Now it’s the four of us, living in a brownstone just down the street from Rogue and Sofia, and honestly, I’ve never been happier.

“I’m so glad we could find a place that let us bring the dogs,” I say, smiling at Piper as she watches a seagull with avid interest. “I would have hated to leave them at home.”

“We’ll always find a place that accepts the dogs,” Micah replies. “I’ll make sure of it.”

We both turn towards the water, going quiet at the splendor of the brilliant sunrise reflecting over the ocean waves. The sky looks as perfect as a painting, awash in warm golds and oranges and shadowed with blue. A small flock of seagulls darts across the sky, calling to each other. Down the beach, a childish voice can be faintly heard exclaiming, “Oooh, look at the colors!”

Standing here, looking out at the water, it feels almost as if I’ve stepped back in time. I can almost imagine, if I turned to my right or left, I’d see my parents on either side of me. I can see the soft smile on my mom’s face, and the love in my dad’s eyes as he looked at her. I can feel their hands wrapped around mine.

But it’s not sad. Not like I thought it would be. Because I do feel them here. I feel their love. Their support. And I know, without a single doubt, that they’re happy for me.

Tears press behind my eyes as I think about my parents and Micah meeting. They would love him so much. My mom would pull me aside to tell me how great Micah is. My dad would pat Micah on the shoulder and call him son. And when I told my parents that Micah was the man I wanted to spend my life with, they’d understand why.

“I feel them here,” I finally say.

Micah turns to me. “Your parents?”

I nod. “But it doesn’t make me sad, like I was worried about. I think they’re happy. Because they know how happy I am.”

The rising sun casts a golden glow across Micah’s face, catching the angles of his features and throwing them into shadow. His gaze softens. “Are you? Happy?”

I stare at him for a second. Then I smile and shake my head at him. “Micah. What kind of question is that? Of course I’m happy. I was just thinking how I’ve never been happier.”

“Really?” His lips curve. “Happier than you’ve ever been?”

I don’t have to think about it. “Yes. Absolutely.” Leaning against him, I stretch up to kiss his cheek. “I have you. I have Piper and Sampson. I have all our friends. I love my job. And our house… it’s nicer than anything I could have ever imagined living in. Life is good.” I stop. “No. Life isn’t good. It’s incredible.”

“Rue.” Emotion works in Micah’s eyes. “I’m so glad. Nothing matters more than knowing you’re happy.” A beat later, he amends, “Well, and protecting you. Of course.”

“My knight.” I kiss him again. His jaw is slightly rough since he hasn’t shaved yet, and he smells of summer. His skin is warm on my lips. “I’m very happy, Micah. And I feel very protected.”

Not that there’s anything to protect me from anymore; at least, nothing we know about. Henry is in jail, currently serving a twenty-five-year sentence. “You won’t have to worry about him even after that,” Micah swore after the judge handed down his verdict. “He’ll never hurt you again. That’s a promise.”

As for Sylvia, I was relieved to know she had nothing to do with the attempts on my life. She contacted me shortly after Christmas in tears, explaining how her grief made her say things she deeply regretted. “It wasn’t you,” she sobbed. “It was me. I felt guilty. But I took it out on you. And I’m so sorry.”

She’s been in counseling, and I think it’s helping. Every couple of weeks, she texts me—no accusations, just little things she remembered about my dad or asking how I’m doing—and I text her back. We’ll never be close, or even friends, but I’m willing to stay in touch. I think my dad would like that.

Micah glances back out at the ocean. His expression is pensive. Then he looks back at me. “I’m happy too, Ruby. So happy. Sometimes I still can’t believe how much.”

My heart squeezes. “I love you, Micah.”

Emotion softens his gaze. “I love you, too.”

Then he whistles, low and short, the command for the dogs to listen. They immediately turn towards him, their expressions alert and questioning. “Come,” Micah says. He gestures for both of them to stand beside him. “Stay.”

“Was one of them getting into something?” I ask. Sometimes there are little crabs scuttling around, and while I don’t think Sampson would try to eat one, I’m not as sure about Piper.

“No, it’s not that. I just—” An almost uncertain expression flickers across his face. “I have something I want to ask you about. And I don’t want to worry about one of them doing something they shouldn’t while I’m asking.”

My heart stumbles.

I’ve thought about it plenty of times over the last few months, and I’d be lying if I said I haven’t fantasized about a proposal. I remind myself that we haven’t even been dating a year, that this is Micah’s first real relationship and he probably wants to take his time. I tell myself that an engagement ring doesn’t really matter, as long as I’m with the man I love.

But still, I hope.

And yes, I could ask him myself. But I feel like Micah would want to do the asking. For all his sensitivity, he’s traditional like that. He would want to be the one taking a knee and asking for my hand in marriage. He’d want to plan it out himself. And because I love him, I’m okay with letting him take the lead on this. For now, at least. If he doesn’t propose in another year or so… maybe I’ll take matters into my own hands.

My pulse races, but I try to keep my voice calm. “What do you want to ask me about?”

Micah shifts on his feet. He gets this cutely flustered look and his cheeks go pink.

Anticipation rushes through me. Could this be it?

“Well.” Micah glances around us. The family is further down the beach. A solo jogger cuts across the damp sand near the water, headed away from us. Aside from them, we’re alone. “I wasn’t sure if this would be the right time to ask. Or the right place.”

“The right time and place for what?”

Wordlessly, he holds my gaze for a moment. Then he lets out a shaky breath and drops to one knee.

Everything stops.

Reaching into his pocket, Micah pulls out a small blue box. “To ask you to marry me, Ruby.”

Even though I hoped, then suspected, I still gasp at hearing it. “You want me to marry you?”

“Yes. More than anything.” Flipping the box open one-handed, he angles the ring so I can see it. It’s enormous, but he could have a little chip of diamond in there, and I wouldn’t care. All that matters is the question.

“I love you, ” he continues. “At first, I wasn’t sure how love felt. I never let myself feel it. But you showed me. You made me realize how beautiful it is. How much better my life is with it.”

Tears spring to my eyes. “Micah.”

“I wish…” He stops to take a deep breath. “I wish I could have met your parents to tell them first. I would have asked your dad for permission to marry you. Not that I think you can’t answer for yourself. But I would want him to know how much I love you. How I’ll do anything for you. I’d want him to know I’ll spend the rest of my life protecting you.”

My chin wobbles. A tear trickles down my cheek. “They would have loved that.” Swallowing hard, I add, “But I think they know.”

“I thought asking you here might make you feel like they’re a part of it,” Micah says. “I don’t know if I was right, or if I messed up⁠—”

“You didn’t.” Leaning down, I cup his jaw while I kiss him, tasting salt on my lips. “This is the perfect place.”

Micah’s gaze searches mine. I’ve never seen him look more vulnerable. “I really love you, Ruby. And I promise, if you marry me, I will spend every day doing my best to make you happy.”

“So will I.” Sniffling, I continue, “It goes both ways. If you marry me, I’ll spend my life trying to make you happy, too. Because I love you with all my heart.”

“So you’ll marry me?” Hope shines in his eyes. “You’ll be my wife?”

I nod. “Yes. Absolutely.” Dropping to my knees, I fling my arm around his neck and kiss him hard. “I will marry you, Micah Sutton. I’ve been hoping you’d ask.”

A relieved smile spreads across Micah’s face. “You have?”

“Maybe once or twice,” I admit.

He carefully takes the ring from the box and slides it onto my finger, then hugs me to him again. “I’ve thought about it a lot.” He draws back to look at me. Then he chuckles. “I think the guys were taking bets to see when I’d propose.”

I glance at the ring on my finger. My chest swells with happiness. “I wonder who got it right.”

Micah takes my hand and lifts it to his lips. He presses a soft kiss just above the ring, then looks back at me. “I don’t know. Probably Wraith. He always seems to know things before they happen.”

“True,” I agree. “Do you think your friends will be happy about it?”

Micah’s face jerks with surprise. “Happy? Are you kidding? They all think you’re great. My parents, too. My mom’s been texting me every week to ask if I have any news to report.”

“Really?”

He smiles. “Yes. My parents think you’re fantastic. Just ignore my mom if she starts bringing up babies.”

My breath catches. We’ve talked about kids in general terms, so I know Micah’s open to them. And I would definitely like to have a mini-Micah one day. “Why should I ignore her?”

He strokes my cheek. “Because it’s our business when we decide to have a baby. She can be surprised to hear about it, just like everyone else.”

“So you still want to?”

“Ruby.” Micah winds one of my curls around his finger. “I would love to have a little girl with your hair. Or a boy. Whenever you want to start trying, I’m ready.”

“Micah.” Fresh tears fill my eyes. “I really am so happy.”

Piper and Sampson squeeze in around us, tired of being ignored. Sampson nudges my hand. Piper licks my arm. “What do you think?” I ask them. “Do you want to be a part of the wedding?”

Piper’s tail thumps the sand enthusiastically. Sampson lets out a little woof.

Micah laughs. “I guess we have our answer.”

“Sampson can wear a little bowtie,” I say. “And Piper can have a bow to match my flowers.”

“Whatever you want,” Micah says. As his gaze meets mine, the love in his eyes takes my breath away. “Whatever makes you happy.”

I hug him hard. “You make me happy, Micah. Everything else is just a perk.”

As I look at the man who holds my heart, something that feels a lot like a hand comes to rest on my shoulder. A moment later, a lighter weight rests on the other. It feels so real, I actually turn both ways to look. But no one’s there.

Still, I feel them.

Two hands. Two reminders that even when I can’t see them, my parents are still with me.

“I think they’re here,” I tell Micah. “My parents. Maybe it sounds crazy…”

“It doesn’t.” He leans in to kiss me. “I feel them, too.”

I’m okay, I tell them silently. More than okay. Micah will take care of me. And I’ll take care of him. Just like you guys did for each other.

The unseen hands on my shoulders each give a gentle squeeze.

“I love you, Ruby Ashe,” Micah says. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

With more love in my heart than I ever thought possible, I reply, “I love you, Micah Sutton. And I can’t wait to marry you, either.”