EPILOGUE - RYDER

SIX WEEKS LATER Lexie and I flew to Croatia on December 26th. I’d told her we could go anywhere for a week, somewhere to escape the noise and unwind. So when she chose Croatia, of all places, I was taken aback. “Not the Aspen house?” I asked, my eyes drifting to her hand resting over her stomach—a protective, almost unconscious gesture. She gave a small, thoughtful shrug, her fingers lingering over where our baby was just starting to grow. “Maybe next year. Even if I could ski right now, I wouldn’t be able to.” “How about somewhere warm then?” I suggested, slipping my arms around her from behind, pulling her gently to me. Her body melted into mine, her head leaning back against my chest. Even though her belly was still flat, I could almost feel the faint promise of the bump that would soon make everything more real. “There’s a warm pool there. That’s all I need,” she said with a smile, her voice soft, almost drowsy with contentment. Her hair, still damp from the shower, smelled of that