Epilogue
“Ollie, Anthony, I’m home!” I called out, slipping off my shoes by the door. They joined the more than a dozen pairs that occupied the entryway. After he came home from the hospital, the only place Anthony let me sleep was in his bed. It hadn’t taken long for all of my stuff to migrate up from the basement and the space once again became a functional guest room.
Ivy had stayed in it for some time, mainly to help with Ollie while I tried to force Anthony to take it easy. He had to take a medical leave of absence for a month after being shot and, while he complained every day about not being at work, we both knew he secretly enjoyed being home.
After Matt had kidnapped me, I had horrible nightmares of Anthony being shot. My mind was finally trying to process everything that had happened to me, and it wasn’t going well. Anthony was patient with me, letting me handle it how I wanted, but when he started back to work, the traumatic dreams only got worse.
He called in a few favors, helping to set me up with a department therapist who specialized in post traumatic events. I had been seeing her for over six months, and I felt like a better version of myself. It had taken some time, but slowly, I was able to sleep peacefully at night and trust that Anthony would do his best to stay safe. Now, it was just nice to have someone to talk to about things.
Strong arms wrapped around my torso, tugging me against a hard chest, and reorienting me to the present. I giggled, relaxing into Anthony’s hold, and tipped my head to the side. He nuzzled his nose into my neck and planted kisses along my skin, a trail of goosebumps following as he went.
“I missed you, amore mio,” he whispered into my ear, my stomach heating from the gentle caresses of his hand. My heart fluttered like it always did when he called me that. Something about the Italian paired with his lust filled husky voice had me immediately weak in the knees. I turned in Anthony’s arms, his rich brown eyes peering down at me, and stepped onto my toes to plant a kiss on his lips. It felt natural, me in his arms, like it was where I was meant to be all along.
Tiny hands embraced my leg, and I chuckled as Ollie squirmed his way between our two bodies. Nothing like a moment ruined by a toddler. I looked down at him, his dimples well defined as a huge smile spread across his face.
“Daddy, did you tell her we have a surprise?” Ollie tugged at Anthony’s arms as he asked.
“No, figlio mio,” Anthony said. “Why don’t you go show her?”
“Okay!” Ollie squealed, grabbing my hand and yanking me through the house. I flashed a questioning look over my shoulder at Anthony, who was following behind us at a leisurely pace. He simply shrugged his shoulders and smiled. I shook my head, returning my focus to Ollie and making sure I wasn’t pulled into any walls.
We rounded the doorway into the kitchen and I stopped in my tracks when my eyes fell upon dozens of bouquets of daisies. Some were in vases while others were just laid onto the countertops. I looked down at Ollie, who was beaming up at me with a sparkle in his eye.
“I helped Daddy pick them out, Mommy,” he stated proudly, his hands making fists on his hips as he looked around. My heart skipped, just like every time when Ollie slipped and accidentally called me mommy. It made me happy knowing he saw me as someone he could trust. I truly did love this boy with every fiber of my being. Maybe one day I would be able to be his mommy, but I wasn’t going to pressure Anthony.
Scooping him up, I pulled Ollie against me for a tight hug, his little giggles filling the kitchen. “Thank you so much, buddy. I love them,” I said. “But remember, I’m not your mommy. You can just call me Gwen.”
“No,” he muttered, jerking his body away from mine and crossing his arms across his chest. Ollie’s eyebrows crinkled just like Anthony’s did when he wasn’t getting his way.
“What’s wrong, buddy?”
“Daddy said I can call you Mommy,” he huffed. “I want to call you Mommy.”
Would Anthony have really said that?I spun on my heel to ask him and nearly lost my balance when I saw Anthony. He was down on one knee, a ring box open in his outstretched hands. I stopped breathing as Ollie slid down from my arms. My hands flew up to cover my mouth, silencing the gasp that escaped.
“Luce mia, the first time I laid my eyes on you in my living room, I knew you were going to turn our world upside down. You have brought so much happiness and love into my life—our lives. I never want to think about a future without you. Gwendalyn Brookes, will you marry me?”
I lunged toward him and he caught me, hauling me against his chest as our lips collided. Tears ran down my cheeks as I kissed him. He deepened it and I was immersed in an overwhelming sense of bliss. Time slowed as we sat in the moment, our bodies pressed so tightly against one another it was difficult to tell where one of us ended and the other began. Finally, I pulled away and Anthony smiled down at me, his dimples that I had gotten so used to seeing forming near the corner of his lips.
“Is that a yes?” he whispered, his eyes darting between me and the ring.
“Yes, a million times, yes,” I squealed. Anthony slipped the ring on my finger just as Ollie wiggled his way between us once again. We fell into a pile on the kitchen floor, all of our laughs mixing as we embraced. It was a perfect moment, and it was then I realized something.
I had found myself.