Epilogue, Two Years Later

DRAYTON

Lucas was the first one to find his forever woman, but the last one to get hitched. Nevertheless, I was proud of the kid.

For a short period of time, I thought he might have malfunctioned and somehow become this little man whore that I did not raise him to be. But he came through and I couldn't imagine him spending his life with anyone else but Mills. She was his twin flame.

He tied the knot on Abby and Roman's farm. The place had been decked out with floral arrangements, rustic decor, and volunteer staff who were catering and decorating.

The ceremony was beautiful and the vows were as inappropriate as one expected them to be. We'd gathered in one of the barns for the reception and the party was just beginning.

Abby and Roman were well into running their equine therapy program and it was gaining recognition as one of the most effective establishments in the state. My princess was thriving in this world she'd created with her husband and I'd never seen her more herself than she is now.

Part of me thought she'd cling to the modelling life, desperate to make it work because she'd spent most of her life striving for that sort of accomplishment. While I'd always supported her, never bad mouthing that world to her face or diminishing her dreams, there was this imbalance in her walk.

Not a literal walk, the journey, the path she was on. She was this little fish in a big sea and even though she swam against a fierce current, determined to make her way, I knew there were cleaner waters out there for her.

I held onto hope that she'd find her true calling sooner rather than later.

Sometimes I could fucking weep at how far she's come. She's so proud of her work and the people she helps. Roman loves her too. He loves her so much that sometimes I see Dallas and myself in them.

A father couldn't ask for more. It didn't take long for them to tie the knot. Which didn't surprise me one bit. Roman asked me for permission and there wasn't a doubt in my mind that he would care for her, for the rest of his life.

"Pop pop?"

Eliana, Max and Amalia's little girl, my first grandchild, called out for me as Dallas walked across the room with Eliana on her hip. She was almost one and couldn't speak a whole lot, but she had a few words down.

She was beautiful, so beautiful. A full head of dark brown curls, big brown doe eyes, and that Lahey nose. She was the perfect mix of her mother and father. 

"There's pop pop," Dallas nuzzled into her cheek and smiled at Eliana's excited giggle. "She wouldn't stop saying pop pop, pop pop, pop pop. I gave Amalia a break and told her we'd watch her so she can hang out with the girls."

"Good," I took Eliana from Dallas and kissed her cheek. "You stick with me, El. We'll cause some trouble. Should we cause some trouble? You're not too young for a vodka, right?"

Dallas curled herself into my side and stared at our granddaughter. Damn, it blew my mind sometimes. It felt like we were teenagers last week, falling in love, getting into trouble, adventuring, and planning the rest of our lives together.

Now we were here. The last of our children getting married, a granddaughter, and two more on the way. There wasn't one thing I would do differently if I had the chance to re write our pages.

Amalia and Max weren't wasting time. She was pregnant again. This time, with twin girls. Across the dancefloor, talking with Abby and Flynn's girlfriend, Min, she rested a hand on her enormous stomach.

Truth be told, I couldn't wait to have a little hoard of grandchildren I could look after. I wanted to host the sleepovers where I'd load them up on sugar and turn the staircase into a slide and roast marshmallows in front of the fire, and spoil them with new toys, and build forts and all of those things I did with my children, I wanted to do it again.

I wanted to be the best grandfather I could be. Until the clock stopped ticking and my bones stopped working and all that was left were years and years of enriching memories that lived on in the hearts of the people I love.

"Have you noticed Abby hasn't touched a drop of alcohol this afternoon," my wife said from beside me, I looked down at her, momentarily distracted by her tits in that low cut dress. Luckiest man alive.

"I didn't notice," I said, putting one arm around her waist, the other held El as she watched the dancing crowd. "I'm sure that's something you would notice though."

"It's not like she never drinks," Dallas observed. "But she hasn't had a single glass."

"Don't bring it up tonight," I said.

Dallas looked up at me. "I wouldn't bring it up at all. I'm just going to be secretly hoping that she's pregnant."

"You think she changed her mind on wanting kids? She seemed adamant that she didn't."

Dallas watched our daughter again, laughing with her friends. "She explained to me a while ago that it was more about not wanting to raise them in an environment she never imagined she'd leave. Her life is different now. It's quiet and peaceful, the media never reports on her anymore. I think she sees this life as safe enough to raise a family in."

"As long as she does what she wants and what makes her happy."

"If she's learned anything," Dallas said, her gaze meeting mine again. "It's that she should never do anything that doesn't bring her peace. I know she's strong enough to prioritise her happiness."

                   Dallas and I circled the wedding, greeting guests and introducing people to our sweet little Eliana. Milly's family were an extravagant group, loud and drunk and full of enthusiasm for the couple and their future.

Eliana was on her best behaviour. The music didn't bother her, the loud clack of heels on wooden floors and the occassional balloon popping or the shouting and laughter.

Lucas and Milly took a pause on their dancing when we approached, both of them breathless, their hair disheveled.

"El," Lucas grabbed for his niece. "She's so fucking cute. Babe, we need to have a miniature so the kids are all close in age. Cousins are the coolest friends."

Lucas bounced El on his forearm and Mills watched the two of them with that look a woman gets when she's imaginging having a man's children.

"I'm not sure if I want to risk getting knocked up with twins," Mills said. "Amalia isn't even in her third trimester and she's the size of a—"

"Size of a what?" Max interrupted, appearing beside the bride with a teasing grin. Mill's made a zipping motion across her lips.

Max and Lucas shook hands and Max took his daughter back who immediately demanded her father when she saw him.

He was a good dad, now fluent in Spanish and able to raise a bilingual daughter who would know and experience all her heritage had to offer. I know Max and Amalia loved the twelve months spent living in Spain, but I was quietly relieved when they decided to come home. For a minute, I was worried they would make it permanent.

They might have if they didn't have family waiting for them at home, roots connecting them to this soil. I know that Amalia struggled with the time away from her sister and father. At least their decision wasn't divided, both of them missed their people.

"Think I might retire and be a full time granparent," I said, tickling El, she giggled and it made my heart grow.

I think I'd have had more children if Dallas had wanted to. But after she went through so many miscarriages and finally got our princess, she told me she couldn't go through that again and we had three miracle babies to love and raise. That was all we needed.

"What's a full time grandparent?" Lucas asked. "Like, as opposed to a part time one?"

"I don't fucking know," I said. "I just want to be available all the time. So I can see El whenever I'm allowed to."

"You're always allowed to see El," Max said, giving me a tap on the shoulder.

It was hard that he lived in New York. Harder now that he had children of his own. But the distance was probably better. I doubt he'd appreciate me walking through his front door whenever the fuck I felt like it.

"Two out of three of us live in Texas, man," Lucas looked at his twin brother, brow raised in challenge. "Time to come home?"

"I can't see Amalia wanting to go that far from her dad and sister," Max ducked his head, not able to look at Luc's disappointment.

"But you're expected to be far from us?"

"Not the time," Mills mumured to Lucas, resting her head on his shoulder. Dallas nodded in agreement.

This wasn't a new debate. Lucas had been angling at Max to come home ever since El was born. As much as I would've loved that, Max had built a life in New York. I couldn't expect him to uproot his wife and child just so we could have him close to us.

He was managing the gallery, Amalia was in the process of opening her own parlour and that meant she could be at home, raising her children while she ran her business. Her little sister, Bernie was sixteen and while I didn't know all the details, I did know she was going through things that required support. Amalia was that support.

We had the means to travel when we wanted, so as far as I was concerned, we were blessed.

"We can visit as often as we like," I said to Luc, sharing his wish for our entire family to be in the same state again. Still, I'd learned a thing or two about pushing my children into my own ideals.

When Abby spent that time in rehab, and then New York, I just about unravelled. She'd been my best friend for the longest time and when our contact started to fall off, I felt like I was missing a limb.

I'd never forget that sort of pain, how it can feel like shards of glass embedded in the most vital organs and every breath is sharp and agonising.

But she's back, that little girl of mine. I get glimpses of the princess she used to be before the world stole her innocence and I'm glad some of her childlike happiness lingers. I glance out at where Roman twists her around on the dance floor, her smile bright, his attentive gaze never leaving her.

With him, she's free to be her most authentic self. There's no pressure to meet the standards that held her in a vice when she was expected to lose weight for a fucking job. She doesn't have to exude a steel exterior to survive the ruthless cold of New York socialites. She doesn't have to dress like this, or do her make up like that.

She's free to love herself in whatever form she's most comfortable and she knows that Roman will love her just as much.

That's a freeing sort of love. It's the sort of love I know she so desperately wanted to find for herself.

Flynn adored her, but it doesn't always work out and I was proud of her for recognising the steps she had to take to find out where her heart truly belonged. The two of them were still good friends, they always will be.

I'm proud of all my children. I'm proud of their success and I'm proud of their mistakes because they never let those mistakes define who they grew up to be. Teenagers fuck up all the time, take wrong turns, stumble, all that shit. Each of them came out of those years with a ton of experience to guide them through the rest of their lives.

I know they'll be fine.

L U C A S      P O V

I am a married man. Honestly, if someone told me I'd be married to my childhood crush at the little age of twenty two, I'd have laughed. Marriage, for me? Hell no.

But marriage with Mills, that shit feels like the biggest privilege in the world.

This woman is an adventure wrapped in a voluptuous, red haired pretty package. She's my best friend, she's that person who feels specifically designed to stand beside me in life.

We sat in the private cabin of the Lahey jet, heading toward London for our honeymoon. It seemed fitting to go and spend the first weeks as husband and wife in her homeland. She hadn't been back for a long time and I wanted to spoil her from now until forever.

Mills perched on my lap wearing a white silk slip and a veil clipped to her red waves. Her thick, cream coloured legs draped over my thighs and I ran a hand along them, watching her smile like it was the life force behind each breath.

"I quite fancy you," I raised my hips, pushing my dick into her ass so she could feel how wound up her little outfit has made me.

"I should think so," she looped her arms around my neck. "We're hitched now. Until death do us part. I'll accept no other escape clause."

Nuzzling her neck, I breathed her in and felt the thrum of her love shoot straight to my dick. "You got a new chapter I can help bring to life?"

Mills was onto her third erotica novel. She was killing it at self published titles. The woman had an insatiable audience, constantly praising her for the work she's put into the world. I love her success, but what I love more is the fact that she writes down these insane scenes that are so fucking hot I'm erect before I can get through the first paragraph, and then we act it all out.

Guess it's her way of telling me what she wants to try in a subtle but super detailed manner.

I'm into it.

"Hmm, I might," she wiggled in my lap, the friction making me hiss.

I thrust up at her again, grinding hard and causing her to moan. "I've always been a fan of your work, baby."

That's the truth. She's come a long way since high school. The creative writing stories she used to slip under my door so I could read them for her, give her feedback and then go back to pretending we can't stand each other.

But regardless of the content, I've never been able to get enough of her way with words.

Pushing my hands into her hair, I grip the base of her neck and kiss her hard, her squirming picks up and our mouths get frenzied fast. She sucks my tongue into her mouth and my grip on her thigh tightens.

Suddenly, she slipped off my lap and pushed my thighs apart with her hands, settling herself right between them.

"Fuck, you're about to spoil me," I said, settling back into the seat as I watched Mills go for my belt with a seductive grin on her swollen pink mouth.

"You deserve it, baby," she worked at my zipper and then looped her fingers into my pants, getting them down just enough I could spring free.

"How do I deserve it?"

She fisted my cock and pumped. "For being on your best behaviour all afternoon, spinning me around the dance floor, that speech, ugh that speech made had me dripping."

My cock twitched in her hand and I grabbed a fistful of her hair as she brought her mouth to the base, her sweet tongue lapping it from top to bottom.

I tipped my head back and groaned, such a light touch but it was enough to make me delirious.

"That was just the bare minimum, baby." I panted as she lowered her mouth over me and sucked, her peach cheeks hollowing out. "You're stuck with me for a lifetime, I figured I better make the first day of our union a little bearable."

Her lips popped as she pulled herself off of my dick, slapped her hands onto my thighs and stared at me.

"What?" I laughed at her glare and then I used my spare hand to start jerking. "Oh come on, you know I'm a nightmare to live with and you love it. Now suck me off sweetheart."

For some reason or another, Mills was fascinated and aroused by the sight of self pleasure so I knew she'd crumble when I started jerking harder, the saliva she'd left all over me, helping my shaft to slide through my palm with ease.

She sat between my thighs, her lips parted, her breathing hard as I kept a tight fist full of her hair in one hand and wanked with the other. Her watching was just as hot as her touching, there was something so enticing about how she practically trembled at the sight of me beating off.

"Not even married for a day and you've given up on blow jobs?" I grunt, working harder, feeling my climax building at the thirst in my wife's eyes.

She flipped me off but didn't break her focus and then I noticed her hand had slipped between her legs.

Yep, that'll do it.

"Oh fuck," I groaned. "Fuck, open up, now."

I pulled her hair and she followed, sitting up and parting her lips as I pushed down on her head and thrust my cock up into her mouth so she could catch my orgasm as it practically folded me over.

She sucked and slurped and I threw my head back on a guttural groan while she pumped and suctioned me clean. Her lips glistened when she sat back and wiped her mouth with her thumb. I'd never tire of this woman and the things she makes me feel.

"We're not done," I panted, quickly fisting myself again and getting the damn thing to wake right back up. "Strip off, sweetheart. I want those tits bouncing in my face while you ride me."

She stood up, slipping her strap off her shoulder. "Yes, sir."

"Is that how we're doing it tonight?"

She let her breasts fall out of her lace slip and I made a sound of appreciation which was mixed up with the sound of my cock sliding through my hand.

"We're doing whatever you want tonight." Her hips moved side to side as she pushed the lace garment down and bared herself to me.

That was the thing about my wife, she had an attitude, one that I appreciated of course, but her mouth was vile. She'd happily tell me to shut the fuck up if she thought I was being an idiot. She had a dark demeanour and an angry little vixen sitting on her shoulder.

But in the bedroom, she let her control drop, she handed it to me on a silver platter, along with her trust, and she became submissive in a way that no one else would ever get to see. She told me no one else would ever get to see because even in her past hook ups, she'd never let herself be vulnerable.

With me though, she knows all the vile things I say to her are in complete respect and reserved only for certain situations.

Of course, there are nights where she wants to be held and loved gently. I can do that too.

She's my entire world. I'd be whoever she needed me to be, as long as she felt safe and knew how much I loved her.

M A X P O V

Amalia, Eliana and I slept in the little guest house that Abby used to live in at mom and dad's. She called it the cottage, it was decorated like one too. Sitting among garden beds and growing hedges.

We'd offered to spend the night in a hotel but dad wanted Eliana close in the morning so he could cook her breakfast.

Pancakes with a little fruit face and whipped cream for hair.

Eliana sat at the breakfast bar in the main house, practically falling off her chair with delight when dad put the plate in front of her.

Amalia cradled an iced tea, rubbing her big bump. I kissed her, never tiring of her mouth, which is how we've landed ourselves almost three babies in less than two years.

No, it wasn't in the plan to start having kids quite so fast but it happened and we wouldn't change a thing. It hasn't slowed Amalia down at all, she manages to balance home life and work as if she's been doing it her entire life.

Which I suppose, after helping raise Bernie, she has.

My phone chimes with a text and I slip it out of my sweats pocket, one hand leaning on the back of Amalia's chair as I read the text from Lucas.

Managed to fuck five times on the flight. Five. Someone hang a medal from my penis. I'm a champion.

Usually the best course of action would be to ignore the message but I chuckled a little to myself and respond with:

Only five times? Lol

That'll rile him up. Poor Mills, I've probably just unintentionally exposed her to Lucas feeling challenged and the next flight home will be a rutting nightmare, I'm sure. My phone blips again but I don't bother checking it this time.

"Max," dad stands at the kitchen counter with the can of whipped cream, occasionally squirting it into his mouth while he watches Eliana eat her pancakes. "You enjoy the wedding last night?"

"Yeah, it was fun," I slide onto the stool next to my wife. "You?"

"Yeah, I liked the part where Pam got drunk and tried to steal the wall of donuts."

Amalia giggled, both of us remembering Milly's mom trying to shuffle the big board out of the venue. It was a rental piece, a wall full of pegs to hang donuts on. I'd assume it wouldn't be hard to find one online, but she insisted she had to sneak off with that particular board.

"Lucas was the one that convinced her to put it in the backseat of her car," Amalia said, both of her hands cradling her tea. "Mills told me after she left. He was hyping her up to do it."

Dad shook his head. "He's an asshole."

"Drayton," Amalia scolded, gesturing at our daughter.

I backed her up, of course I did, she's my wife, but sometimes I felt like it was a losing battle to monitor the language within this family. Still, she didn't have to put up with it if she didn't want to.

Dad winced, holding his hands in surrender. 

It was about the only time he let someone else tell him what to do.

Mom came wandering in then, her big sweat pants dragging along the floor. At second glance, I realised they were probably dads because the waist was rolled over like three times and they were still too long.

He watched her walk past, staring at her butt.

Doesn't he ever get tired?

"Good morning sweet pea," mom stood behind Eliana and kissed her on the head. "Ooh did pop pop cook breakfast?"

"Pancakes," El shouted, stabbing a blueberry with her toddler sized fork.

Dad squirted another dollop of whipped cream into his mouth, copping a chiding look from mom. "What?" He said, his stare going from defensive to suggestive in a split second. "I have an idea for this."

Mom waved him off. "I'm sure. Later. So, who wants to go to the river this afternoon?"

Amalia and I shared a quick look, shrugging. I wasn't sure that my wife would want to be out in the hot sun being as pregnant as she is, but there was shade and we could take the big bean bag for her. I left most of the decisions up to her when it came to where we went at the moment.

"That actually sounds like it might be really refreshing," Amalia said, not coping with the unbearable afternoon heat of Texas at the moment. "I might sit in the shallow end with El."

Mom tilted her head, grimacing. "It's hot, huh? Can we do anything to help? Is the cottage cool enough? Go and hop into the pool whenever. You know we don't mind."

Amalia smiled at mom. "Thank you, Dallas. I don't think it's much of a fixable situation. It's just hot and I'm enormous."

"I know honey," she gave Amalia a kiss on the cheek and wandered over to the patio doors, swinging them wide open.

Mom and Amalia became pretty close over time, I think Amalia found a comfort in mom that she'd never had in anyone else, a hole filled that was left by her own biological mother. It was special to me, seeing them get along so well, witnessing the long distance phone calls and the FaceTiming whenever they had news to share.

          Amalia took Eliana out to the cottage house to get her dressed while I helped dad clean up the kitchen. He turned on some old school song on the speaker, slipped his cap on backwards and started singing along while he loaded the dishwasher.

The sound of the gate ringing interrupted him about one minute into his performance.

"Dallas!" He shouted.

No answer.

"Woman?!"

"Dad, just get the gate."

The intercom box was in the foyer beside the door and instead of walking to it like a human being, he hollered for his wife who was probably upstairs getting dressed.

"No, fuck that. It's the neighbour. I know it's the neighbour because she shows up every fucking morning now. Your mom made the mistake of engaging in a conversation once and now she never leaves."

I ran a plate under the faucet to rinse it. "What does she want?"

"I don't know, her husband died or something."

"Dad!"

He sighed. "Yeah I know, it sucks but I think she killed him, so, it is what it is."

"You think she what?!"

Dad walked over to the door and aimed his voice at the stairwell. "Babe, the witch from next door is buzzing. Deal with it."

I don't know if I should keep asking questions at this point. Dad walked back over to me and slapped me on the shoulder. "Your mom and I have an anniversary coming up. Ideas for celebrating? At this age we've done about every fucking thing there is to do. I played all my good cards way too early."

"Wedding anniversary?" I was sure that wasn't for another few months.

Dad threw a screwed up paper towel at the trash can before he switched on the screen in the corner, showing the CCTV footage of the house. "Na first time we had anal."

"I can't stand you, man."

He shrugged and the gate started ringing again. Dad threw his head back, sighing at the ceiling. "Babe, I'm about to shave my balls in the kitchen sink."

It was about two seconds later than mom came stampeding down the staircase, a towel around her. "I told you if you ever did that again I'd—"

She paused when she saw us both standing there watching the CCTV footage of the gate.

"That's your friend out there, babe. You taking notes on how to get rid of me?"

Mom's shoulders drop. "She did not kill her husband."

Dad raised his brows, turning back to the sink. "I'd bet my balls she did."

Mom shot him a glare and went out into the foyer. Dad and I listened.

"Julia," she said. "Hi."

"Hi honey, can I co—"

"Listen, we've got our son and his wife in town so I can't hang out today. You do remember I gave you my cellphone number? You need to call me before you come over, alright?"

The voice on the intercom sounded old but not fragile. Rather sharp. "Oh but I would love to mee—"

"You call from now on, Julia. Have a nice morning."

Mom must have switched the intercom off because the sound went dead and she walked past the kitchen without even peering in at us. That was the thing about mom, she had boundaries and she wasn't afraid to enforce them. It became essential spending such a long time in the public eye.

Dad slowly nodded, his face turning into that stupid grin he gets. "Your mom is so hot when she's being a firm bitch. Clean up in here, I'm going to catch her before she puts her clothes on."

Dad ran off and despite him telling me to clean the kitchen after he so rudely gave me too much information, I decided to go out and check on my girls instead.

Amalia was putting on her floor length dress, which streamlined off her bump and El was toddling around in her rash suit and water shoes. She hated the feeling of rocks under her feet in the river so we gave her what she calls her 'wet feet'. She won't go in the water without them now.

"Can I do anything for you, my love?" I asked Amalia, standing behind her and kissing the crook of her neck. "You need a foot massage? Or a back rub?"

She lifted her hand behind her, sweeping it into my hair with a soft sigh. "I fear that's how we ended up in this position."

I hummed and kissed up to her ear lobe. "I promise I won't touch those forbidden places."

She giggled, knowing my help came at no risk of going too far. I couldn't even imagine what it would feel like to spend hours at a time standing up with that much weight fighting to pull you down. It made me feel sort of bad for Spencer who had to lug Lucas and I around for months.

My hands slid down and cradled her bump from the bottom, lifting the weight. She fell even further back into me.

"How long can we stand like this?" Her head fell back against my chest, the relief in her voice was evident.

This was one of her favourite ways to stand. The weight of our twin girls being supported so her back could have a break. Sometimes we'd stand in front of the television like this for hours until she climbed into bed, relaxed enough to get some sleep.

"We can stand like this for as long as you need," I kissed her head and watched Eliana rolling a ball along the hardwood floor.

I had no idea what life would look like when we threw another two kids into the mix. Chaotic I'd assume. The thought of having three girls was surreal too. Growing up with one sister was enough drama for a lifetime, let alone three. Still, I was glad our children would have small age gaps, just like, Abby, Lucas and I did.

It made for the most incredible childhood. Those two are my best friends and they always will be.

A B B Y        P O V

An afternoon breeze rustled the tree leaves surrounding the barns as I took a slow stroll across the farm grounds, dusty gravel crunched beneath my boots and the sound of hooves thudded against the grass in the close paddocks.

The sun was harsh, I hid from it underneath a wide brimmed hat and talked to Bernie on the phone, feeling the heat searing into my skin and warming my legs.

"You know I can't make that call, Berns," I said, smiling at one of our farm hands as she lead a horse back to the stables, the majestic creature glowing in the sunlight. "Your dad has to sign off on those forms."

Bernie made a grunt of frustration on the other end of the line. "I'm so done with school and it's bullshit that he won't let me leave. What happened to creative freedom? The clothing line is booming and I'm failing classes because I've given up on fucking geometry and shit like that. He might as well let me make bank. What is the logic?"

Bernie and her ranting. I wandered over to the wooden fence surrounding our training ring and stood on the slats, watching Roman doing some exercises with one of our new mares. He looked devastating. His dark brown waves peeping out from under his cap, his white t-shirt damp and clinging to his broad frame.

He caught me watching and winked.

"Look," I said to Bernie. "I don't know what his problem is. Eliás didn't finish high school, did he? Perhaps he's feeling obligated to ensure you get a good education."

Bernie scoffed. "He's been brainwashed by western culture more like it."

"What does Kiara think?"

"She agrees with me, but she'll side with dad."

"Well, I feel bad but I can't commit fraud and that's what I'd be doing if I pretended to be a guardian and signed off on withdrawal forms. If you want to get into forgery, sign the papers yourself."

She lightly laughed. "Oh I'm considering it."

"What does Amalia think of all of this?"

"She's totally on my side," Bernie almost shouts. "She thinks dad is being ridiculous. We haven't had a civil family dinner in months. It ends up in a screaming match whenever we sit down. I told her she should become my legal guardian just to sign me out of school. Papa would forgive us eventually, when I'm rich and famous and I can buy back his love."

I laugh at the notion that a man like Eliás could ever be bought with money.

Bernie let's out a long sigh. "I've worked so hard for my clothing line. It's blossoming. His attitude doesn't make sense. I think he's punishing me for coming out."

"No, he was happy for you, Bernie."

"I know," she mumbles.

"How is Natalie?"

"The best thing that's ever happened to me."

I smiled at the shift in her tone. "Look, do you want me to talk to Eliás, see if I can get him to come around or at least explain his reasoning?"

"Well, you are good at being a bitch."

My foot scuffed at the wooden fence rail I was standing on, long grass tickling my exposed shins. "I take that as a compliment. I won't be a bitch though. I'll just have a conversation with him."

I have to remember that Bernie is sixteen, she's mature and self assured but she's still just a young woman that needs people to have her back. If I agree with her, why wouldn't I do what I can to support her?

We talk for a while longer, she tells me all about the new designs she's working on and let's me know to keep a look out in the mail for a parcel containing some cute summer ranch wear. I had no idea what to expect but I knew that with Bernie, I wouldn't be disappointed.

I was still an investor of sorts in her line, so I sent her a sum and helped with legal costs and in return she made me clothes, all the time. I've barely bought myself anything in a long time.

We end the call and I slip my phone into the little front pocket on my overalls. A cute sage green pair with patch work sunflowers on the shorts. Super cute and sweet, which is how Roman likes to describe me. It's comical that I could ever be described as sweet when I think about the high maintenance bitch I used to be.

"You good, beautiful?" Roman shouted, petting Florence, the mare. It looked like classes were over for the afternoon.

"Yeah," I shouted back. Roman started leading Florence over to us, dust kicking up behind her hooves. "She's doing well."

Roman kissed me as he came through the gate and we walked back to the stables together. "She is. I think she'll be ready to join the program in a few weeks."

We discussed a few of our new comers as we put Florence back in her stable with fresh hay and water, thanks to one of the farm hands assigned to cleaning the stalls this morning.

It was getting to the point where we had so many new people sending in applications or coming in on referrals from their therapists or doctors, we were running out of space. Roman and I were in the talks of expanding our accomodation, a stretch of cabins on the eastern side of the farm.

There was more to expanding our client base though. We'd need more help in the kitchen, more therapists and horses. It was achievable but it was a process.

Roman slung his arm around my shoulder and tucked me into his side as we walked out of the barn and out into the hot sun, not a cloud in the bright blue sky.

When Roman held me, when I could smell the scent of his cologne, mixed with his natural sweat and the earthly aroma that seemed to run through his veins, I still felt like this was all brand new.

Butterflies and jitters and smiles that made me want to hide my mouth because I must look like such a cheese.

Roman kissed the top of my head. "How has your morning been, beautiful? I love those overalls. You look stunning."

He never went a day without telling me I was beautiful, or noticing something new I was wearing or if my cheeks were a little pinker from the sun, or if my hair glowed a bit more golden. He made me feel like I was the sole object of his focus and there wasn't a single thing about me, he wouldn't notice.

"Cute right?" I tip my head back and grin at him. "Gift from Berns."

"She's so talented. Is that who you were talking to?"

"Mhmm. Called her to thank her for the outfit and we caught up."

Roman slipped his arm off my shoulder, lowering it until his hand intertwined with mine and we slipped into the cool air conditioned staff room. There were a few people getting lunch, a drink or standing beside the fan.

Roman and I passed through, greeting our friends until we were outside again in our private garden. It was made up of rocks and shrubs and little stone tiles. An old wooden bench seat sat beside a small water feature. Across the garden was our own little cottage, built from the same company as the one at mom and dad's house.

It was perfect. A tiny house with walls of windows and an iron spiral staircase up into a platform where our bed sat. Plants hung from the support beams and it was a rustic design with brass fixtures and wooden walls.

Roman used to live in the main house with his sister and parents but when we started talking about moving in together, it made sense that we'd have our own space. Rian wasn't here full time anymore either, she'd left to go and live with her boyfriend and ran a lot of administration from home.

Inside, Roman and I dropped into our hammock seat, a two seater swing that hung beside the window. It wasn't convenient for hosting guests but we liked it. I curled into Roman's side, resting my head on his firm chest.

"I had a thought," Roman ran his fingers up and down my arm. "You could invite Bernie here to visit? I know you miss her."

"I don't know if the farm life is her speed, babe."

I'm sure Bernie would handle it if I asked her to come but she was growing into a fan of glam and I couldn't even imagine her in the hot rural life of our farm. Dust and smells and bugs. Although, this wasn't the sort of place I imagined falling in love with either.

"You wanna go there?"

I pinched his tank top between my fingers, rolling the fabric. "If I was in Philadelphia, I'd have to visit Max and Amalia in New York. I'm not in a rush to do that."

"You do whatever makes you happiest then, beautiful," Roman said, and in one swift movement, he lifted himself over me and gripped me by the hip, pushing me onto my back.

"Well this is happiness," I slid my arms around his neck and spread my legs so he could settle in.

The hammock seat swung, making the world around us feel a little less real, as if we were in an existence of our own, moving at a pace made only for us. Which is how I felt most of the time I was with him.

Caged beneath Roman, his arms beside my head, I looked up into the way his dark brown eyes saw me. All of me. His gaze left no question as to whether he loved and accepted all of the parts that make me who I am.

The near relapses I've had since I met him, threatening my peace because even though I've come so far, I've had moments. Moments where I heard haunting voices telling me I'm still not enough. Meals staring back at me with the threat of ruining my life if I put a single bite into my mouth. Taunting and vicious but not stronger than the way Roman loves me.

Every struggle I've had has been met with his strength. He worships me. He holds the pieces of my body I used to hate and kisses promises into them that are impossible to ignore. He's spent hours running his mouth along the curves and his hands have held me like he's afraid of any part of me to change because he loves me and my body, just how it is.

He's never told me he's scared, scared of what I might end up doing when I tell him I'm struggling. He's just shown me and reminded me what he finds so beautiful and through his eyes, I find it in me to see the same.

Roman kisses my throat, his tongue lapping out at the ridge of my neck and his hand moves into my hair, bunching it in his fist.

"Roman," I mumbled, getting lost in the euphoria he provides. I have to tell him something before I can't think straight because that's what happens when he takes me into his arms and loves me from head to toe.

"Yeah, baby," he must've heard something in my tone because he lifts his head, his brown licks of hair peeping out from under his backward cap.

He watches me so intently, so focused on what I have to tell him. He has never let me talk to the side of his face, or the top of his head or his back. If I'm talking, he's listening, his gaze on me, his focus sharp. It makes my heart swell to know how safe I am with him, how I would never have to doubt that I'm his entire world.

"I'm pregnant."

His gaze goes wide, his eyes darting down to my stomach. He lifts a little, as if he's aware that his body is crushing mine. I giggle because I'm not surprised that his first instinct would be to protect the little bean he's just finding out exists.

"You're pregnant?"

I nod, biting down on my lip. I wasn't sure how I wanted to tell him, if I wanted to do a big exciting reveal, or write it on a t-shirt or put it on a cake. In the end, it felt like the right moment, so I said it.

"Baby, I thought— well, I thought—"

"I know," I said. He thought I didn't want to have children. For a long time, I didn't and when I told him that, he didn't press it, didn't assume I'd change my mind or tell me that he wanted kids of his own and it wouldn't work out.

He accepted what I wanted and told me I was all he'd ever need.

But this life that we share, this place where healing happens, and nature thrives and peace exists, I started to realise that not having children was more about the threat they would face in a world I never imagined leaving.

I decided that I wouldn't mind seeing a little version of us growing up in this sanctuary.

I knew when I stopped taking birth control, Roman wouldn't be upset. He would be an amazing father and letting nature take its course, happened a lot faster than I thought it would. I was only off the pill for three months. Still, I'm not upset, I'm not scared, I'm excited, and from the look on Roman's face, I can tell he is too.

"You're sure about this?" He asked.

"I'm sure," I felt a tear slip down my cheek.

His breathing was quick, his eyes darting all over my face. "Because you have options with me baby, I don't want you to feel like—"

"Roman," I leaned up and kissed his mouth. "You're going to be a dad. We're having a little mini, babe. I'm happy."

My tears were falling faster and when I saw his own gaze glistening, I tried not to fall apart. I drew my legs up and wrapped them around his waist, pulling him back down into me. He resisted a little, probably worried he'd crush the baby. It made my heart flutter. His protective nature, even if it was impossible for his body weight to hurt me.

"I'm going to be a dad," his voice quivered, a little breathless. "You're going to be a mom. Baby, you're going to be an incredible mother. Shit, I can't wait to see you holding our child. Baby, you're going to be the best mom ever. You know that right?"

A tear rolled over his lip and I wiped it with my thumb, cradling his face with both hands, stubble beneath my fingers. "You make me feel like that's true, Roman. I think I could do anything with you beside me."

He kissed me, hard, his tongue sweeping in and his low laughter rumbling in his chest. When we broke apart, he kept his forehead on mine.

"You're my strength," he whispered. "You're the reason I know we can do this. You're perseverance, courage, kindness. My wife, there is nothing in this world I would want to do without you."

I angled my head up again, kissing him and the tears that salted his lips because while he was a poet, I often didn't know how to use words to explain what he meant to me. Instead, I would show him. And I would show him for the rest of our lives.

The End.

____

First and foremost, I have to apologise for how long it took me to finish this book. Honestly there were just new things that I wanted to work on and I got to the point where I did not know how to wrap this up for you guys. I wanted to make sure the stories had endings that made y'all happy with how their lives turned out. I know it's impossible to please everyone but I hope you enjoyed it.

Thank you so much for reading this book, for loving these characters enough to stick around and be patient with me. It's hard to say goodbye.

Don't even think about asking me for a story about the grandchildren. This has to end somewhere 😂😂

I love you all so much ! I'm currently working on a Nathan book, if you can't get enough of the QB universe. It's a sequel of sorts but slightly different from Playing for Keeps.