Epilogue Part Two—Rex
A screech pierces the air and I wince from the microphone feedback. Stepping to the side of the stage where a small fire pit has been set up, I let the staff fix the audio.
I’m about to make a speech—a speech where I’m just Rex, someone dealing with mental health issues, someone choosing to wake up each day to fight.
After the equipment is fixed, I walk back to the podium and the crowd quiets.
“Thank you for coming to celebrate the opening of the Anderson Culinary Arts Therapy Center.”
The audience cheers and I spot Maxwell smiling, his arm wrapped around Belle.
Levi sits on her lap, clapping like he understands what’s going on.
Ryland grins and gives me a thumbs-up as he tugs a smiling Millie against him.
Charles laughs at Taylor, who’s wolf-whistling like a pro, and Steven and Grace cheer loudly.
Alexis is jumping and clapping with a smiling Ethan next to her.
Lana sits next to Dad, who’s smirking, his ankle crossed over his knee, every inch the proud Anderson patriarch.
I glance to my right and spot her, my Olive, standing behind the curtain in a white turtleneck dress because our lovemaking gave her a few fresh marks on her neck.
Sorry, but not sorry.
She blows me a kiss and motions for me to continue.
Turning back to the audience, I say, “As some of you may know, I suffer from a host of mental health issues—C-PTSD, substance dependence, and related disorders. The Rex-a-Million persona was a mask I crafted to hide my problems from the world.”
My hands shake and my pulse skyrockets as I bare parts of me I’ve held under lock and key until recently.
Olivia helped me see the light.
“It wasn’t healthy. It prolonged problems and impacted people I care about.
What I should’ve done was seek help earlier and let others in.
I know how hard that can be, how sometimes even the smallest step can feel like a Herculean effort.
Luckily, I had help. I had the support of my family and the woman I love.
And one day, on this journey to recovery, I took a cooking class. ”
My eyes sweep over the audience and land on Giacomo Valenti, who’s waggling his brows because the fucker knows it’s his class I’m referring to. Begrudgingly, I admit he’s a decent guy underneath all that suave charm.
“Through the process of learning to cook, I felt relief. It has been a passion of mine, something my mother loved and I enjoyed doing with her when she was alive. It has always grounded me. It sparked an idea I later discussed with Dr. Olivia Lin.” The crowd cheers as Olivia steps into the spotlight and waves to the crowd.
I grin, noticing how tall she’s standing, how she’s no longer flustered by the attention.
Because she knows she deserves her own spotlight, one I can’t look away from.
“Studies have shown that cooking can elevate moods and help patients suffering from eating disorders, depression, anxiety, and other mental illnesses. Cooking and eating healthy foods can improve our gut biome, which then improves mental health as well. And so, Dr. Lin and I decided to combine therapy with the culinary arts, resulting in the Anderson Culinary Arts Therapy Center. Here, we will offer mindfulness-based cooking classes, individual and group therapy, and psychiatric help for free to anyone who needs it.”
Lighting up a match, I hold it over the makeshift fire pit before dropping it in. The flames flicker and grow, bathing the space in a warm glow.
“This flame will be transferred back into the kitchen and be used to cook the first meal for all of you as a thank you for supporting this important cause.”
A knot loosens in my chest when I look into the audience again. This is my phase three—looking forward and finding meaning in my life, which to me is helping others in need.
“Because,” I swallow, “mental health is crucial, and access to help should be available for all. Thank you.”
The auditorium erupts into a standing ovation, and I bite my lip, my face heating. I feel out of sorts, suddenly unused to the cheers, whistles, and clapping from an adoring crowd, not because of some deviant behavior, but because I was unflinchingly honest and vulnerable.
Because of something good I’m doing for the community.
When I step down from the podium, Olivia is there to greet me, a wide, beaming smile on her face.
“I’m so proud of you, Rex. So proud of you,” she whispers before pulling me into a kiss.
Warmth ripples through my body. And as our kiss deepens, my roaring heartbeats eclipse the applause still booming in the room.
Quietly, I pull back and brush her hair from her face.
I dip my forehead to hers and murmur, “I love you, my Olive. Thank you for loving me.”
Later that evening, we’re gathered on the rooftop bar at The Orchid. Even Olivia’s parents have flown out to join us. The night sky is exceptionally clear, with stars winking at us amid a swath of dark navy.
My phone buzzes, and I see a text from an unknown number.
Ava.
Unknown number
*Sends a photo of a beach with palm trees and the silhouettes of three women in swimsuits.*
Unknown number
The ABCs are enjoying life in paradise. Don’t worry about us.
Unknown number
And don’t worry, no funny business with the photo this time. *smiley face*
ABCs? I frown, and then I huff out a laugh.
Ava. Bree. Cora. Ava must’ve gotten over Bree’s connections to the Caruso family.
They’re safe now.
Laughter reaches my ears and I slide my phone back into my pocket.
Dad, Ethan, and Charles are smiling as they walk over from the bar, holding trays of champagne and then hand them out to us. Everyone accepts a flute except Grace, who suddenly turns beet red in the face.
Taylor narrows her eyes. “Sis, you aren’t drinking.”
Grace shakes her head, her eyes downcast. I snap my gaze to Steven, finding the man biting back a smile before tipping the flute to his lips.
Olivia gasps, then squeals follow as excitement bubbles from the girls.
Lana elbows her way to stand in front of Grace and stares at her belly, then at her face. “Are you? Am I going to be an aunt again?”
Grace nods. “Yes! We’re three months along.”
“Oh my God, yay!” Lana hugs Grace, and everyone offers their congratulations.
I ask Steven, who looks completely smitten. “Boy or girl?”
He shrugs. “We don’t know. It doesn’t matter. He or she will be perfect.”
“All my grandchildren will be perfect,” Dad agrees.
“There’s a baby inside Auntie Grace?” Levi exclaims as he pokes Grace’s belly, and everyone laughs.
“Yes, sweetheart. You need to take care of him or her when he or she comes out, okay? You’re the oldest cousin.” Belle ruffles his hair and Levi puffs his little chest out, clearly eager to take on the role.
“And while we’re at it, good news and all, Tay and I have something to share too,” Charles murmurs as he tucks Taylor against him.
My goth ballerina half sister flushes, and it’s then I notice her nose piercing—a symbol of her mood as she says—is a red heart today.
“You tell them or me?” Charles bops her nose, and she mock scowls before grinning.
Huffing out a sigh, she faces us and holds up her left hand. “Fuckers, I’m now Mrs. Vaughn.”
More shrieks and whistles erupt as they tell us how they did away with all the pomp and circumstance and eloped at city hall last week.
“Congratulations.” Ryland clasps Charles’s shoulder. “You’re doing a reception, right?”
“Maybe. Depends on what Tay wants.”
“Still debating. I might make you all go to a punk rock concert with me.” Tay grins and we groan.
RIP to my eardrums.
Then I notice a flash of orange next to me. Alexis is rocking on her feet, clearly excited about something.
She whispers to Millie, “Can I tell them? Please? Please?”
Millie rolls her eyes and nods. “Yes. You’re clearly dying to.”
Alexis giggles and says, “Millie and Ryland have finally set a date for their wedding. She’s asked me to help plan it because one of my bucket list items is to plan a big party.”
“This bucket list of yours keeps changing,” Ethan mutters, affection obvious in his voice.
“Oh shut up. It keeps things exciting. You just tag along for the ride.” Alexis pecks him on the lips.
We laugh and heckle Ryland because the damn asshole took long enough to seal the deal with his girl.
“It’s not my fault! I asked so many times, but Millie wants to wait until she gets her PhD,” Ryland grumbles.
“I like following a specific order,” Millie quips.
“Which means I’ll be getting more grandkids soon, right?” Dad murmurs, and Millie turns red.
“Maybe. But after the wedding ceremony…because, order.”
Ryland snakes his hand behind his fiancée’s nape, pulls her to him, and kisses her.
“Damn. Someone wants to skip to the baby making already.” Taylor snickers.
“We’re married first. Don’t let them cut in line,” Charles whispers not so quietly.
Taylor’s eyes snap to Charles, and the two have an entire conversation without words.
“So, when is it your turn, Rex? The last single Anderson male other than little Levi.” Steven nudges me.
Arching my brow, I smile and turn to Olivia, who’s still laughing with the girls, happiness brimming on her face.
“Funny you should ask, because something is weighing down my pocket,” I murmur and tug Olivia’s hand.
My palms grow sweaty and my pulse batters my ears.
She swivels her head toward me, her eyes comically large when she sees me dropping a knee to the floor.
“My sweet darling Olive, the reformer of bad boys, the healer of hearts. I love you so much.” Pulling the black velvet ring box out of my pocket, I snap it open and turn it to face her.
Five carats. Flawless color, cut, and clarity. A central princess-cut diamond framed by a halo of smaller stones.
For my lover, my princess, my life.
“Will you be my forever and let me love you for eternity? Will you make me the happiest man on earth and marry me?”
Someone shrieks in joy—Lana, I think—before the sound is abruptly cut off.
I spot Elias lurking in the background, his hand covering Lana’s mouth and muttering, “Calm yourself, woman. She hasn’t answered him yet.”
Biting back a smile, I wait with bated breath as Olivia stares at the ring, then at me.
I nod to her parents standing behind her. “I’ve gotten permission from your parents. I think I won them over because I’m learning Mandarin and can cook a mean stir-fry. Doesn’t hurt to know I can run a dishwasher and I definitely want kids.” I wink, even though my heart is careening out of control.
The room breaks out in laughter, and her parents beam at us.
Olivia blinks, her lips curving into a watery smile.
Moisture gathers in her eyes.
Then she nods.
“Yes. Yes, oh my God, yes!”
The space bursts with cheers and clinking of glasses. People murmur congratulations to us, but I barely notice, because all I can do is stop my hand from shaking when I slide the ring onto her finger, still not believing she said yes.
This beautiful, bewitching angel and seductress wants me—monsters, scars, and all.
She’s seen my darkness and not only hasn’t shied away from it, but has embraced it.
“You’re worth everything,” Olivia murmurs and slides her arms around my neck, pulling my head toward her. “You’re one beautiful man, Rex Anderson, and I’m so honored to spend my life with you.”
Elation spears my heart, and if I die right now, I’ll leave this world the happiest man alive.
Crushing her to me, I seal my lips with hers just as the fireworks I’ve arranged weeks ago erupt in the sky. The popping sounds and bright lights are a fitting ending, or a wonderful beginning for the rest of our lives together.
When we pull apart minutes later, I twine our fingers together and pull her in front of me, cradling her in my arms as we watch the beautiful firepower display stealing the breath from everyone here.
With my heart full of love, I glance around the bar, taking in the faces of my loved ones.
Maxwell grinning, little Levi perched on his shoulders, clapping as more fireworks bathe the dark skies in light. Belle is trying to adjust the toddler soundproof headset over his ears, no doubt to protect his eardrums.
Dad, smiling contentedly, points out something in the sky to Levi.
Ryland kisses Millie, then murmurs in her ear. Her skin turns pink.
Steven is kneeling on the floor, kissing Grace’s belly as she stares lovingly at him.
Charles dips Taylor in a dance move to music only they can hear.
Alexis whispers excitedly to Ethan, who smiles fondly at his wife. I hear something about adding another item to their bucket list, which Ethan will never say no to because he indulges her.
Olivia’s dad is taking a photo of his wife with the fireworks as a backdrop.
Then there’s Lana scowling at an icy Elias, who has his arms crossed over his chest. She spins away in a huff, and that’s when I notice it—the soft smile curving his lips as the mobster stares at my sister with something that almost seems like affection.
He sneaks a glance at me and falters when he notices my attention on him.
I narrow my eyes, then arch my brow.
He gives me the middle finger, then pulls out his damn lighter, flicking it on and off again.
Shaking my head in amusement, I turn to Olivia, finding her staring awestruck at the colorful fireworks in the sky.
“I never thought I could be so happy, Olive. Never thought it would happen to me.”
Smiling, she turns to me and lifts her left hand—my beautiful ring sparkling on her finger—to my face.
I sigh with contentment. Her touch always grounds me.
“You’ve always been deserving, Rex. Always.”
Drawing her into my arms, I whisper in her ear, “Olive, let’s go back to Valencia next year. Not for the past, but for us. The future.”
She looks up at me, her eyes bright with excitement. “Burn more stuff?”
I smirk. My little secret deviant. “Burn anything you want. But I’m thinking more about creating our own sculptures. Sending our wishes to the universe. Shit like that.”
“You’re a secret softie, Rex Anderson.” She rises on her tiptoes.
“Shhh, don’t let the others hear you. It’ll ruin my image.” I wink.
Olivia laughs and kisses me.
And in this moment, I finally believe my life can end one way.
Happily ever after.
Oh, we aren't done yet. You thought we were, didn't you? Like all good stories, this one doesn’t truly end here.
Where there’s light, there are shadows.
Turn the page to see what waits on the other side of happily ever after…