Epilogue #3

“Clover,” he says before shaking his head and starting over. “Calla was the girl who saved me before I knew I needed saving. And Clover is the woman who waited for me when she had every reason to give up.”

“Valen—” I’m not sure what I want to say. Even after all this time has passed, I still don’t resonate with Calla. Clover is who I became, who I created from the ashes of Calla.

“I’m not done.” He squeezes my hand. “Even when I was surrounded by family, I still felt alone. There was a hole in my chest that nothing could fill. Not my relationship with my cousins, not my aunt, who went above and beyond to make me feel loved. Nothing could ease the ache in my chest. But then I found you—or you found me—and everything finally made sense.”

He pauses, and I see him choosing his next words carefully.

“I used to think I needed to make up for what happened. Save so many people that the past couldn’t touch me anymore.

But I’ve learned that the boy who cut those brake lines—he’s part of who I am.

Not all of me. Not the best of me. But I can’t pretend he doesn’t exist.” His voice steadies.

“I’m learning to carry him instead of running from him.

And you—you taught me that carrying something doesn’t mean carrying it alone. ”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small velvet box.

My heart stops. The air in my lungs freezes as if they forgot they’re actually supposed to move air through and not trap it.

“I’ve already chosen you,” he says, opening the box to reveal a ring—a delicate gold band with a center stone the color of honey, flanked by two beautiful diamonds.

“I chose you when I came back. I chose you when I stayed. I choose you every single day when I wake up beside you and can’t believe I get to have this life. ”

He lowers himself to one knee. “But I want to choose you forever. Officially. In front of this whole ridiculous town and every single person who helped us find our way back to each other.”

I’m a blubbering mess who doesn’t know where to look.

“Calla O’Connell. Clover Danes. Clover Danforth. My Honeybee.” He looks up at me with certainty shining in his eyes. “Will you marry me?”

I don’t even hesitate. “Yes!” I say, barreling into him and sending us both careening into the tent. It crashes down around us while everyone on the outside hollers and shouts as they attempt to right the thing.

And amidst the chaos, Valen slides the ring onto my finger—a perfect fit, because of course it is—and then he’s on his feet, holding the fabric of the tent up with one hand and me with the other.

Then he kisses me like we’re the only two people in the world.

But we’re obviously not because the tent lifts away from our bodies and suddenly, we’re surrounded.

Chief is sobbing. Madi is sobbing. Savvy is pretending not to sob while Elle hands her tissues.

The Harrington brothers are doing that masculine back-slapping thing that men do when they want to express emotion but don’t know how.

Greyson and Braxton are grinning like idiots.

Agnes is proclaiming that she knew it all along while Pothole squeals his approval.

Chief raises his thermos. “To the happy couple. May you have a long life, and may Valen never forget that I know where to hide bodies.”

“Romantic as always, Chief,” Pops says. “Truly a poet.”

Valen pulls me closer, his forehead pressed against mine, blocking out the chaos for just a moment.

“Worth the wait?” he asks quietly.

I think about everything it took to get here. The letters. The years. The fear and the hiding and the counting my way through panic. The man who chased away my nightmares, and a life I never dared to dream of.

My hand drifts to my pocket, where the small wooden bee still lives—worn smooth, almost featureless from decades of anxious touching.

I no longer need it for good luck, but I keep it anyway—not as a talisman against fear, but as proof that even in the darkest places, love finds a way to plant seeds.

“Every single day,” I say. “Every single day was worth it.”

We’re not fixed. I know that. Some nights I still wake up with my foot on the floor, and some mornings Valen stares at his hands like he doesn’t recognize them.

We still have hard days, still have therapy appointments penciled into our calendars, still have moments where the past feels closer than it should be.

But we have this too—this messy, imperfect, loudly loved life. And that’s enough. It’s more than enough.

He kisses me again, soft and sweet, and around us, Happiness—the town, the feeling, the life we’ve built—celebrates.

Somewhere in the distance, the welcome sign glows with its lopsided honeybee standing guard over a town full of people who showed me what it means to bee-long.

And I’m never letting go.

What happens in Happiness, Georgia ten years later? A new, blossoming childhood love, reluctant bromances, and of course, chaos that can only come from big found families…