31. Epilogue
Blossom
Four years have passed, and life feels like it’s finally settled into a rhythm.
The kids are starting kindergarten, and it feels like just yesterday they were babies, struggling through sleepless nights and endless feedings. But now, as they run through the house with backpacks and lunchboxes, I can hardly believe how much time has gone by.
Noah and I have found our groove again: parenthood, marriage, work.
It’s all been a balancing act, but we’re making it work. My photography career has taken off in ways I never expected. I’m booking gigs almost every other week, and sometimes, I have to turn down work because I simply don’t have the time.
It’s a good problem to have, but it also means that I’m not as free as I used to be.
The bar? That’s a distant memory now. I’m not bartending anymore. The hotel, Noah’s support, and my own hard work have allowed me to focus on photography full-time, and I couldn’t be more grateful.
There’s so much about our life that has changed, but in the best possible way. We’ve worked hard to get here, and now, I get to do what I love while raising our family. It feels right. I can finally breathe, knowing that I’ve created a life for myself and my children that I’m proud of.
I herd the kids into the elevator after school, all of them chattering at once about their day. Jackson is talking about how he’s learned the color blue, Ruby is excited because she learned to draw circles, and Theo’s just bouncing around with his backpack still on.
I sit down with them at the kitchen table, asking about their day as they pull out their schoolwork.
Theo shows me a picture of a circle and proudly tells me he knows all the shapes now. Jackson points to the square he drew and insists it’s “the best square ever”. Ruby hands me a drawing of a wobbly-looking heart, her face beaming with pride.
We go over their lessons together: colors, shapes, and everything else they’re learning. It’s simple stuff right now, but it makes me so happy. I love being there for every little milestone, every new word they learn.
I love cooking their dinners, helping with their homework, even if it’s just coloring, kissing their boo-boos when they fall, and scaring the closet monsters away at night.
Parenthood isn’t easy, but it’s everything I ever dreamed of. I never imagined I’d get to be this involved, this present. I’m doing it. We’re doing it. And I couldn’t be more grateful for this life.
Theo runs over to me, his little hands clutching a piece of paper. "Look, Mommy, look!" he says, his eyes wide with excitement.
I smile as I take the paper from him and see that he’s drawn a flower. It’s messy, the petals uneven, but it’s perfect.
“This is for you, Mommy,” he says, grinning. “I made it for you because you’re Blossom, not Mom!”
He giggles, as if just realizing my name is actually Blossom.
Ruby and Jackson come over too, each holding a picture they’ve drawn—Ruby’s is a rainbow with big, colorful stripes, and Jackson’s is a rough sketch of a car.
I take all the drawings, smiling as I stick them to the fridge with magnets. It’s the simplest things that bring me the most joy—seeing their little faces light up with pride over something so small.
I start dinner, keeping one eye on them as they run around in the living room, playing with toys and laughing. The smell of pasta fills the kitchen as I stir the sauce, listening to the happy chaos of my kids’ laughter.
There’s something so comforting about this. Something so right.
I can’t believe how far we’ve come. I can’t believe how happy I am, how full my heart feels. This life, this family, is everything I ever wanted.
I hear the door click open, and before I even turn around, I hear the loud chorus of, “Daddy! Daddy’s home!”
The kids scramble to the front door, eager to hug Noah as he steps inside. I watch the scene unfold, smiling to myself. Noah crouches down, his arms wide, as they all jump into his embrace, laughing and shouting about their day.
It’s one of my favorite moments of the day, the moment Noah walks in and the kids surround him, their faces lighting up like he’s the best thing in the world. And he is. To them, and to me.
Noah stands up, cradling Theo in one arm and holding Jackson’s hand with the other. He walks over to me, kissing me on the cheek. I smile, feeling that familiar rush of love every time he touches me.
“Hey,” he says, still smiling, his eyes warm and full of love. “What’s for dinner? I’m starving.”
I laugh, pulling the pasta off the stove. “Pasta and garlic bread. I figured we’d keep it simple tonight.”
He nods, dropping a kiss on my forehead as he helps me set the table. “Sounds perfect.”
We sit down as a family, surrounded by our kids, and I can’t help but feel so full, full of love, full of happiness.
This is it. This is our life, and I wouldn’t change a thing.
We sit around the dinner table, the noise of the kids’ excitement filling the room as they recount their day at school, this time for their father.
It’s a lively, chaotic moment, but it feels so comforting. Ruby starts first, her voice high-pitched as she recites a little poem she learned.
"Roses are red, violets are blue, I like the color green, and so do you!" she sings, clearly proud of herself. I can’t help but smile at how sweet she sounds.
Jackson immediately follows, reciting a poem he’s learned about animals. His voice is quieter, but he’s still so excited to show off what he’s learned.
Theo jumps in, repeating the last line of the poem he’s just heard, not entirely clear on the words, but full of energy. He’s trying so hard to get the pronunciation right, and Noah jumps in, helping him with each word.
Noah, the ever-doting father, gently guides Theo to help him pronounce the words correctly. “It’s like this, buddy,” Noah says softly, his smile warm and full of encouragement.
Ruby starts singing a little song she learned in music class. Noah’s eyes are so full of pride as he listens. He’s such an incredible father. I love seeing him like this, so patient, so gentle, so involved.
The kids adore him, and I can see why. They’re his whole world.
His smile, his encouragement, his pride; he’s not just their father, he’s their hero.
And he’s mine, too.
After dinner, we move to the living room, the kids snuggled up on the couch with their blankets as a movie starts. It’s a goofy, lighthearted family film, the kind the kids adore.
They giggle and laugh, their little faces full of joy as the characters on the screen do something silly. I feel the warmth of the moment settle over me, my family gathered together, safe and sound.
By the time the movie’s over, the house is silent, save for the soft, rhythmic breathing of the kids. Theo has fallen asleep sprawled out on the couch, and Ruby’s eyelids are heavy, fluttering as she drifts into a peaceful sleep. Jackson’s head is resting on my shoulder, his small body already slack with sleep.
I know it’s time.
Quietly, I stand up, careful not to wake them, and lift Theo into my arms. Noah follows suit, picking up Jackson and Ruby, one in each arm. We walk together down the hallway to their rooms, the soft weight of our children in our arms feeling familiar and comforting.
We tuck them in, one by one, kissing their foreheads and whispering goodnight. “Goodnight, little ones,” I murmur, my heart full as I look down at their peaceful faces.
Noah kisses them, too, and we leave their room quietly, our footsteps soft on the carpet.
As we close the doors behind us, I feel an overwhelming sense of peace settle over the house. The day is done, and in this quiet moment, everything feels right.
We’ve created this beautiful life together, and I wouldn’t change a thing.
It’s just Noah and me now. He leans into me as we sit together on the couch, the world outside fading away. He wraps his arm around me, brushing a strand of hair from my face, and for the first time today, I can breathe.
His eyes meet mine, and for a moment, it’s as if the chaos of the day disappears. We’re both tired, but in this moment, there’s no place I’d rather be than here with him.
Our lips meet in a kiss, soft and slow. It’s as if we’re reclaiming the time we’ve missed, letting the weight of parenthood fall away for just a moment. My arms find their way around my neck, and he pulls me closer, deepening the kiss. We both breathe in the quiet, letting go of the tension from the day.
This is what we’ve worked for: the love, the moments like this where it’s just us. I don’t need anything else.
When we finally come up for air, we smile at each other, breathless.
“I love you,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.
“I love you too,” I murmur back, my voice full of tenderness.
We sit there, wrapped in each other’s arms, enjoying the peace before the chaos of tomorrow begins.
Later that night, as we lay in bed, I can’t help but reflect on everything. My life has changed so much in just a few short years. I think about how it all started, with that crazy night at the wedding I photographed.
Who would’ve thought that night would lead me here? Three beautiful kids, a husband I adore, and a life I could never have dreamed of.
My hand glides across his chest, his body warm and familiar. He turns toward me, pulling me close. I nestle against him. The way I fit so perfectly in his arms, it’s a feeling I never want to let go of.
I never could’ve imagined this life. But now that I’m living it, I can’t imagine anything else. Noah and I have created something beautiful together. A family. A life. A future.
I feel his breath steady against my back, and I know he’s fallen asleep. My heart swells with love for him, for everything we’ve built. I close my eyes, feeling content, knowing that this is where I’m meant to be.
I never want to let go of this feeling. And with Noah by my side, I know I never have to.
The end.