Page 76 of Paws & Order

Footsteps sound from the bedroom.

Emily brightens. “Oh good.”

Theodore groans. “We are not staying to watch.”

“We absolutely are,” she insists.

He mutters something scandalized; she laughs, and I join in. For the first time, Theodore doesn’t seem lonely—and for the first time, neither do I.

They begin to fade, slowly, like morning mist.

Emily lifts a hand. “We’ll check on you soon.”

Theodore points at me.

“Take care of him.”

I blink. “Take care of him?”

A voice comes from the hallway.

Cassian, in sweatpants and rumpled hair, narrows his eyes.

“Who are you talking to?”

The kitchen is empty except for two coffee mugs. I smile, pick one up, and sip as I look at the man I love.

“Just some matchmaking ghosts.”

Cassian blinks, then sighs.

“Of course.”

And somehow, that answer makes perfect sense.

EPILOGUE

LIZA: THREE YEARS LATER

Three years later, cinnamon is still part of our mornings.

Sometimes it's in my oatmeal. Sometimes it's in the bread Cassian bakes on his days off. Sometimes it's simply there in the air, a memory worked into the walls of our home.

The first thing I hear is the thump of Cassian's boots on the porch steps as he retrieves the paper, followed by the wet flick of a towel as he dries off Morticia, his faithful black lab puppy, who insists on soaking herself in the bay grass before every sunrise. From my vantage point in bed, I can tell which side of the dog is getting the rubdown by the volume of her pleased groans.

Some mornings still feel dreamlike.

Then Cassian walks in, already looking for me.

The sound of his voice and the certainty of his gaze make everything feel real again.

Today, we're hosting a baby shower.

By six o'clock, I'm in the kitchen making deviled eggs and trying to anticipate disasters before they happen. Will anyone remember Alaric's wife is allergic to dairy? Will Cassian remember to hide the vintage wine from Zadok?

I'm not nervous.

I am absolutely nervous.