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This is home now.

Later that evening, we move the celebration to Mia’s house. The laughter around the house is warm and easy, like something out of a dream I never dared to have. Mia’s mom passes around slices of pie, her dad cracks some bad joke that has everyone groaning, and Emma’s already plotting a girls’ trip with Riley—who, miraculously, doesn’t run the other way.

I’m sitting on the couch, a glass of cider in hand, when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I slip it out and glance at the screen.

Unsaved Number.

I open the message.

Hi, Jack. It’s Megan. Just spoke to your dad and he agreed for us to meet up for a conversation. I can’t wait to see you again. I hope one day you find it in your heart to forgive me. Until then, I’ll continue to be here, hoping it’s not too late to be the mother I should have been years ago.

What a way to ruin my night.

But the more I read the message, I realize the ache doesn’t seem that deep anymore. I mean, I’m not about to start calling her mother, but maybe forgiveness isn’t farfetched.

I don’t even hear Mia come up beside me until her hand gently touches my arm. “Are you all right?”

I look up into her face—soft, concerned, grounding—and nod slowly as I turn the phone toward her. “My mom.”

She reads the message quickly, then looks at me again. “Come with me,” she says, her voice quiet, almost a whisper. She takes my hand without waiting for an answer, leading me down the hall and into her bedroom.

The room smells like her—lavender, citrus, something sweet and familiar. She closes the door gently behind us, and I suddenly feel like I can breathe again.

“Have you spoken to her since that date?” Mia asks.

“No. But she’s been reaching out to my dad, requesting a meeting. He finally granted it to her.”

Mia sits beside me, one hand on my knee. “Do you want to meet her?”

I exhale slowly, staring at the floor. “I don’t know. Part of me wants to say no. But another part… I don’t know. I can give it a try. Would it be crazy?”

“Crazy? No. Brave? Yes.”

I laugh and hold her close. “Will you come with me?”

“Of course.”

I lean in and kiss her, slow at first—like a question. But she answers with her lips, her hand sliding up to my jaw, fingers threading into my hair.

It deepens, warms, unfolds. There’s nothing hesitant about it. Nothing confused. Just two people who’ve found something real.

When we pull apart, she’s still holding my face, her forehead resting against mine.

“You’re not alone anymore, Jack,” she whispers.

And for the first time in my life, I believe it.

EPILOGUE

MIA

The smell of fresh flowers wraps around me like a familiar hug as I restock a vase of white peonies near the window. Outside, the town of Bardstown hums its usual melody—quiet, steady, warm. My home.

It’s been six months since that day in the park. Six months of laughter, love, and long-distance calls that stretch into the early hours. Six months with Jack.

I smile to myself, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. He’s in L.A. right now, wrapping up the final scenes of his latest film. Same project he started four months ago—the one Megan Hart is also on. I still remember the first time he told me she was staying on. I had braced myself for the worst, but Jack… he surprised me.

They had a long talk during their meetup. Jack didn’t sugarcoat anything with her, but she listened. She took his criticisms with grace and apologized for all her mistakes. Jack’s father openly forgave her, too. And in the end, they chose peace.