Gone Away Home (Bringing Home Trouble)

EPILOGUE

SIX AND A HALF MONTHS LATER

DUSTIN

The ring I’m carrying is burning a hole in my pocket. I’ve wanted to ask Zayla to marry me for a long time and today, finally, is the day. There were so many times when I wanted to ask her, but I want it to be perfect and mean something.

That’s why today is the day.

I know she’s going to say yes, and I can’t wait to slide my ring on her finger. Seeing my claim on her, a physical reminder that she’s mine, is going to make keeping my hands off her nearly impossible. It’s already difficult enough.

We’re out for dinner in Jasper Ridge at the fanciest restaurant we have, but Zayla never cares where we go or how much money I spend on her. No, she’s all about spending time together. As long as we’re together, she doesn’t care as much about what we’re doing or where we are.

It’s an exceptional quality of hers, one I love and cherish.

There are far too many people out there who only care about what can be bought for them or want to be able to flash cash around because it makes them feel better about all the areas of their life which are lacking. Zayla has never been that way.

She’s pure and a bright light. I saw it the first day of her freshman year all those years ago, but I swear her light shines even brighter now.

I’m so proud of her.

Not only is her business thriving, which is no surprise to me, but she’s finished writing her second book. Whenever I find her typing away, the clicking of the keys filling her office like the most beautiful music, I take a moment and appreciate it.

She told me not long after that horrible Thanksgiving about how she had tried to write her own book. We were laying in the dark in our bed and the confession slipped from her lips. Her words were hushed, like speaking about the dream she kept hidden could tarnish it in some sort of way.

“I’ve been writing it for so long and I’m not sure if I’ll ever finish it. It’s there, a file on my computer that taunts me every time I go and edit someone else’s book. I want to bring this romance to light, I want to finish it, but I just haven’t have the inspiration.”

I kissed her forehead and pulled her even tighter against my chest, hoping the strength of my hold could help infuse her with the confidence she needed. My gut was screaming at me that she just needed someone in her corner, someone rooting for her and making sure she didn’t stumble.

“I believe you have this story inside of you, sweetheart, and probably so many more. I’m not going to pretend like I know a damn thing about writing a book, but you do and you’re so damn smart. You have a voice which I have no doubt people will want to hear.” I paused, letting her absorb my words. “And, you know what?”

I barely heard her tentative, “What?”

“Even if you don’t finish the book and it’s only ever a file on your computer, I’m proud of you and I will never love you less because of the things you don’t accomplish. Just like I’ll never love you more because of what you do accomplish. I love you for you; there is no way I’m capable of not loving you.”

The next day when I got home from the range, I heard the sounds of her typing and stood in the doorway of her office. She was so focused and didn’t even see me standing there. She was lost in her words and all I could do was smile.

It took a lot of effort for me to walk away and leave her to it because I was desperate to know what she was writing. Hours later, after dinner was ready, I interrupted her.

When she focused on me, the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen on my woman’s face lit up the entire fucking universe. She launched herself at me and I caught her easily.

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” she kept repeating the words as she peppered my face with kisses. “I don’t know how you did it or-,” her sentence died off and she tilted her head to the side as she looked at me and then nodded like she just figured something out. “You, Dustin, you’re my inspiration. That’s why I couldn’t do it before, and I can now.”

Fuck if that didn’t bring tears to my eyes.

She’s sitting across from me now, in a restaurant she’s barely paid attention to. If she did, she’d notice the people who love her most seated around the room. And the rest of the place is empty.

Zayla isn’t one for showy and I wasn’t about to propose with a huge audience. No, she deserves so much better than that. But I also knew the people who love her, the ones who have cherished her, would want to be here.

And that does include our parents.

Right before Christmas, Dad and Janice came knocking on our door. Janice had a look of determination in her eyes and Dad just looked contrite.

Before we could ask them why they were there, a few tears fell down Dad’s face and he looked at us with heartbreak written all over him. “I’m so sorry. I won’t make excuses because they have no place here, not when I’ve wronged you both with my reaction to you being together. I can’t explain why I reacted the way I did. I shouldn’t have. I think,” he took a deep breath and let it out slowly, “I wasn’t really listening to you and what you were telling us. I was stuck in my head and worried about you and how people would see you and us by extension.”

“I don’t give a fuck about image Dad,” I tried, and failed, to keep my voice neutral.

He nodded sadly. “I know and I shouldn’t have either. It’s not like it’s something I’ve worried about before. I’m sorry I stopped listening and couldn’t hear what you were really telling us. You put your own feelings to the side and wallowed in the pain of that while putting our,” he looked at Janice with hearts in his eyes, “happiness first. That’s not something a kid should do for their parents, but we didn’t give you much choice. That’s on us.”

While I studied Dad, Zayla stepped closer to him and wrapped him up in a hug. The man broke down in tears as he hugged her back. It was the first time in a long fucking time when I saw Dad cry.

Janice was looking on with pride and nodding her head like everything was starting to become right in the world again. For her, the world only included her husband and her kids.

It took time, but we’ve been able to repair the relationship between us.

And now they’re sitting in the corner while practically bouncing in their seats with excitement. I meet Dad’s gaze, and he nods at me. The act is one of encouragement, but it does nothing to take away the nervous flutter in my gut.

“Zayla,” I whisper her name, and she looks up at me with questions in her eyes. I stand up and round the table, gently turning her toward me, and sinking down to my knees. Both of them, not just one. I’m not above begging this woman to marry me. “I love you so damn much, sweetheart.” The smile on her face tells me she knows and feels the same. I reach into my pocket, pull out the ring, and hold it in the space between us. “Once upon a time, I ran from you. As much as it tore me apart to do, I think it was what we both needed. We had to grow up and find our footing in this world on our own. Now though? There’s nothing that could ever make me run again.”

Tears fill her eyes as she looks at me, not the ring, me. “Dustin,” she whispers, “ask me. Please.”

“No more fear, sweetheart,” I grin at her, knowing she’s seconds away from taking the most important question of my life away from me. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” she screams and wraps herself around me, moving fast enough to knock me onto my back. With her sprawled out on top of me, she starts laughing.

The sound is quickly drowned out by everyone cheering. Zayla’s eyes snap up and widen as she realizes everyone cheering is here for her. For us.

I slip my ring on her finger and grin so damn big that my cheeks hurt.

I know now that I had to go and stay gone. At least for a while. Now I’m home and I’m never leaving again.