Page 75 of Orc the Halls

“Five more minutes,” I decide.

“Five more minutes.”

We sit together on the porch of the cabin where it all began, surrounded by the sounds of family. The stars emerge overhead, and somewhere in the distance, an owl calls.

Above us, flakes of summer ash drift from the grill fires—tiny reminders of the snow that started it all.

This is home—not the cabin, not the sanctuary, not even the mountain, though all of them matter. Home is this: the male beside me, the family we’ve claimed, and the life we’re building together.

Six months from strangers to married. When you find your person—your safe haven, your home—you hold on tight and don’t let go.

The rest? Just details, falling into place one day at a time.