Back to Willow (Back Series Book 1)

EPILOGUE

Funny to think how much four years can change one’s life.

If someone had told me all those years ago that I’d find her again and gain a family from that encounter, I would have laughed in that person’s face. But here I am, still wrapped around Willow’s little finger and doting on my nine-year-old.

From an empty walking corpse, finding them was like having the breath of life blown straight into my mouth. Don’t get me wrong, it doesn’t mean it was easy. There have been a few bumps on the road.

From Johanna’s incessant attempts to get together at the beginning—even after my rejection—and my father’s futile attempts to get my brother off the hook when the man himself admitted to his wrongdoings…it’s been a rollercoaster.

At first, Willow didn’t want any problems with my parents, knowing they had the money to overpower us legally, but the law states that when a minor is sexually assaulted, they can only report it until their twenty-third birthday. After that, the statute of limitations applies. For a moment there, I thought we would never have closure from this or have my brother pay the consequences of his actions.

But with her therapist’s help, we did it. And before my father could even swallow us whole with his power, my brother admitted to everything and said he’d accept any sentence that the judge thought fitting. The bare minimum.

John Davis has not stopped harassing us, though. It’s a never-ending cycle that—according to him—will only end when he’s sure Dylan is not my brother’s. It makes me insanely mad because I am his father.

I may not have seen the DNA test with my own eyes, but I knew it from the moment she got out of that kitchen that day. It was her widest and brightest smile—an unforgettable memory. Another hint was the fact that my father’s attempts at custody requests, grandparent rights and so many other crazy court notices we’ve been receiving, haven’t affected her. At all.

And fuck, it turns me on as much as it makes me proud. My girlfriend—soon to be fiancé, I hope—has grown so much and fought so hard. While I know she has been doing it long before I came back, watching it up close has been inspiring.

I want to marry the hell out of her. This ring has been burning all my pockets for over a month now, but nothing ever feels like the right—or perfect—moment. We’re both officially done with school. Willow is going to start next fall as an elementary teacher in Dylan’s old school, and I’m already finishing up my last residency as a paediatric cardiologist. It’s time.

“You think it’s time?” Her round coffee irises look up at me through the dark blue hues of the aquarium. We’ve made it a tradition to come once a year since it was one of our first significant times together—as a family.

Still, my eyes widen in reaction to her words.

Did I say that out loud?

“W-what?” I stutter.

“I was thinking…” she trails off, looking at our boy with his head plastered against that damn thick glass. “He’s been calling you Dad since that Christmas. With your dad asking for custody, claiming Mason is the father, to me, it would make sense if—”

“I told you I don’t care about seeing the result,” I cut her off. “He’s mine, no matter what those papers say, and my father can fuck off with his entitlement.”

“No,” she groans, pulling me back by my hand.

That’s another one of her conquests; there have been several. From her nightmares vanishing to maybe just once or twice a year to barely having that extreme sensitivity to touch or sudden noises. Willow has been doing so much better.

Partly because of the wonderful people that surround her. From the shy, closed-off girl she was, she’s become a social butterfly, strengthening the bond she created with her college friends.

Ethan and Hazel are still a constant presence in our lives. They come around almost every other weekend and most of the holidays, too. So much so that Dylan calls them aunt and uncle. Ethan is the calmness of the three, and Hazel is slightly more guarded but still has that spunk in her personality. But the both of them have always been very protective of Willow. Even after all of these years, Hazel’s greeting signature to me is the cut-throat move, just to make sure I’m on my best behaviour.

And while it can be silly to some, it makes me proud to know she has found people that love her and want to protect her just as much.

Even that professor of hers…with time I’ve come to put my jealousy aside and understand them—their bond. Arthur and Willow share the same kind of pain, and while I wish I could be her only one for everything, I have to accept the fact that this kind of pain, I won’t be able to understand—not to the extent he does.

He is a fucking good friend, always calling to check up on her and everyone else. Not even the three hundred kilometres between them has kept him away, not really. Though, my less rational side surely doesn’t mind the distance.

But my favourite? The way she is more secure in herself—no longer stuttering, no more skittish moments, and she has slowly learned her own way of standing up to others. Even myself—and I fucking love it.

“That’s not what I meant.” She chuckles with a roll of her eyes.

There’s that recognisable hint of annoyance in her voice. It usually comes alongside some of her secret sassiness—which I also love—and I can’t help but feel the urge to entice it even more by irking her up. My hands lower to her backside, kneading her soft curves before I harshly grope her ass and bury my nose in her neck. “What did you mean, then?”

“Stop being crass, Liam.” She tries to pull me away, unsuccessfully.

At that moment, Dylan turns back, looking for us, twisting his face as soon as he sees us. “Ewww,” he mouths to me, and I laugh through a shrug before wrapping my arms around her upper back and hugging her tight.

“What did you mean, love?”

My words seem to finally do the trick as she smiles wide and wraps her arms around my neck. Her back is facing Dylan, but she knows I’ve got my eye on him. I always do, and she trusts me completely. In itself, it means the world to me.

“I was thinking we should finally change his birth certificate.” Her lips move, slowly enunciating every word with care, and her peach-coloured cheeks tighten from her shy smile.

With my eyes set on hers, I don’t move.

“What?”

“His birth certificate,” she repeats. “Not only would it make it official, but I also think it would send your father a message. Maybe…he’ll back off.”

I scoff, “He won’t.”

“Still,” my beautiful girlfriend insists. “I want him to have your name, too, and I’m sure he wants it. We can also ask him if it makes you more comfortable.”

I’m still at loss for words, looking at her.

“Dylan, baby,” she calls.

He visibly huffs before slowly turning back to us and begrudgingly walking toward us.

“Mum,” he hisses. “Don’t call me baby in public.”

“Right,” she giggles, unaffected.

“Daaaad,” he groans, and I finally snap out of my stupor, chuckling nervously. “Tell her not to call me baby. I’m no baby.”

“Sorry, bud. She’s the boss.” I shrug my shoulders.

Willow ignores us, looking slightly down at him to say, “I was telling your dad I think it’s about time you have his surname, too. What do you think?”

His eyes widen, looking at her, then at me. Then at her again, and I’m suddenly terrified. What if he doesn’t agree? What if, despite calling me dad, he doesn’t see me as one?

Fuck. I’ve never had my confidence wavering this hard.

“Oh,” he mumbles, now deep in thought. “Will I no longer have yours?”

My heart somersaults, and I think Willow’s does, too, with the way she instantly lets go of me and hugs him to her. He’s squished against her chest—that’s how tall he is.

“No, no,” she coos. “You’ll have both of our names. Both of us, always.”

He keeps quiet for a long time, deep in thought as fear creeps inside me.

What if he doesn’t want it?

“Why haven’t we done that yet?” he asks instead, the light blue hues of his irises curiously peeking up at me. It’s still daunting at times, how much we look alike.

I shrug, not really knowing why. I guess it never crossed my mind before. The only thing that would change would be the papers. In my life, my head, and my heart, Dylan is my kid. There aren’t enough papers in this world that can tell me otherwise.

“I’ve thought about it often,” Willows mumbles. “But I wanted you to understand what it means and have a say in it, too.” Then she glances at me before continuing, “I feel like it’s time.”

“When can we do it?”

“Oh, um…” she trails off.

I’m still in the same place, looking at them. At a loss for words and movements. I have probably turned into stone by now.

“Whenever you both want,” she finally answers.

“I…yes.” Still wordless.

“Dad,” Dylan calls, coming up to me.

He pulls on my arm, motioning his hand for me to bend down to his height. And finally, I move.

“The ring,” he whispers.

What?

“What?” I stutter, dumbstruck.

“The ring,” he hisses. “Ask her now.”

Oh. Oh!

“Now?” I ask, and he nods eagerly. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Everything alright, boys?”

Looking directly at her, my throat bobs up and down with nerves. Now? I mean, I have been carrying it around for a while…Nana and Jake have been making sure to let me know that they expect it soon, leaving hints and jabs here and there. but…right now?

She’s gorgeous. Her dark brown locks are long and flowing over her arms and back. The fair skin is flushed on her cheeks from the warm temperature inside. There’s an aura in here. The walls of this aquarium are pitch black with the only light coming in through the big central water tank.

It creates these ever-moving blue hues, covering everything around her. The way the shadows created by the water move over her face, highlighting her cheekbones and that special glint in her eyes, draws me in because, in so many ways, she’s like water. Transparent, pure, and capable of creating life.

She created Dylan and unintentionally brought me back to mine. Just like water, I need her to survive.

“Daaaad,” he groans.

“Yes,” I answer hastily. “Everything’s…peachy.”

She’s sceptical, though, suspicion clear in her eyes.

“If neither of you wants to add the surname, it’s—”

“No!” We both cut her off at the same time.

Bewildered at our—my—awkwardness, I take the courage to do what I’ve been wanting to do for a while. It never felt like the perfect moment before because of this. This is where it was always supposed to happen.

My knee lowers, hitting the ground just as my hands fumble with the inside pocket of my jacket. Willow gasps, and from the corner of my eye, I see Dylan’s excited jumps.

“Willow,” I start as soon as the box hits my fingertips. “For years, I was told to be patient because time heals and dwindles feelings for those who no longer are part of our lives. Well, they lied.” I laugh nervously, looking at her shiny eyes. “There wasn’t a year, month, week, or day where you’ve been less loved by me. Even when we were apart, and goddamn those were the longest seven years of my life, but they were worth it. So fucking worth it. Do you know why?”

She shakes her head, her hand covering her mouth, not hiding her light sobs.

“Because it brought me back to you. Having you and Dylan in my life made all of that pain worth it. There’s no other option for us than being stuck together, and I can’t see my life without being able to call you my wife. So, will you marry me?”

With both hands on her face and Dylan excitedly telling her to say yes, she keeps quiet for a moment. The silence becomes deafening and heavy in a room where I know everyone else is focused on us. I don’t care; my sole focus is her. It always will be.

“Yes,” she hiccups the word out, and everyone cheers. Loud.

I don’t know anyone else in here, but they are cheering like they’re my best friends. And inside, I am, too.

All tension dissipates from my body, and I stand up, getting the ring out and sliding it onto her finger. Then I kiss her, and our mouths mould together perfectly, lighting my body up with fireworks. It never gets old.

“Eww,” Dylan groans. “Stop.” Wedging between us, we chuckle, hugging him tight.

Our journey wasn’t easy, but this is. Loving her is easy—and that’s what’s supposed to happen when you love your soulmate.

“W-wait,” she stutters, pulling us slightly apart. “So, you don’t want to change the surname’s situation?”

I deadpan. “I just asked you to marry me, and you think I don’t want my son to have my surname?”

“Well–”

“Yes, I want to,” I answer her.

“I do, too,” Dylan chimes in. “I should have had it to begin with.”

My heart must have grown twice in size because it feels like it’s bruising my ribs with how hard and fast it’s beating. My head feels light with the amount of happiness floating through me.

There’s nothing that can beat this feeling. Not the ghost from our past, or the threats from our future. If we stick together, nothing can tear down what we have built.

Right here and now, I have everything I have always wished for. It was a long, windy, and steep road, but in the end, I knew it was leading me to her.

Deep down, I’ve always known I would always find my way back to Willow.