Epilogue
LIZA
One year later.
I wake before the sun.
It’s not unusual anymore. My body has learned the rhythm of our life. And it’s early mornings with sounds of safety. The low hum of the thermostat, the faint clink of dishes from downstairs as Danyl makes coffee, the gentle creak of the mattress as I roll onto his side.
His scent lingers in the sheets. Clean and warm and mine. All mine.
A year ago, I never thought I’d associate mornings with peace. Or that I’d wake with my chest full instead of tight. Or that happiness could fill you up to the brim.
I stretch beneath the covers, smiling into the pillow like an absolute idiot, because my life, my marriage, is perfect and yet it gets better in every single way.
And still every day I wake up a little stunned that this is real.
That he is real.
I slip out of bed, wrap his robe around me, and pad barefoot downstairs. The smell hits me before I hit the landing. Rich roasted coffee and pancakes.
I stop in the doorway to the kitchen. Danyl let me put up holiday decorations, even though he grumbled the entire time.
He’s standing at the stove, wearing gray sweatpants and nothing else, hair damp from the shower, tattoos shifting over the muscles of his back as he flips pancakes in the pan. He looks like sin and Sunday morning all at once.
And he’s humming.
A deep, gravelly rumble I can feel across the room.
A year ago, I married this man in blood and fear and chaos.
Now I’m watching him hum while making me breakfast.
My heart expands so fast it almost hurts.
He must sense me, because he glances over his shoulder. And there it is.
That smile. The private one he does for me and only me.
Slow and warm. A smile that softens all the sharp parts of him.
“Good morning, wife,” he murmurs.
My whole body melts.
“Morning,” I say, coming to stand behind him. I slide my arms around his waist, press my cheek between his shoulder blades, breathe him in.
He covers my hands with one of his, thumb brushing the platinum ring he bought me the day after my abduction.
“You slept well?” he asks.
“I always sleep well with you,” I say, and it’s true. I didn’t for a couple of months after the kidnapping. But Danyl woke me every time I thrashed, holding me through the nightmares. Even when I shoved at him in panic, he never once let go.
But the nightmares are gone now.
He turns off the burner, spins in my arms, and tilts my chin up with one knuckle. His eyes search mine, like he still checks, every day, that I’m alright. That he hasn’t lost me to the ghosts in my head.
“I have something to tell you,” I say, heart tripping.
His brows draw together. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I shake my head quickly. “No, it’s nothing bad. Actually, it’s good. Really good.”
His body relaxes immediately. “You’re scaring me a little.”
I bite my lip. Because we’ve been talking about it for months.
And after waiting my whole life to feel safe, to feel loved, to feel like I had a place in the world, I’m finally ready.
“I want a baby,” I whisper.
For a moment, he goes completely still.
Then something breaks open in his expression, something raw and bright and so tender it steals my breath. He cups my face in both hands.
“Liza,” he says, voice rough. “Are you sure?”
I nod. Tears sting the corners of my eyes. “I never wanted kids before. Not because I didn’t like them, but because I didn’t want to treat them the way my father treated me. I didn’t want to repeat that cycle.”
Danyl’s thumbs brush my cheeks, slow and reverent.
“You never could,” he says. “You love too fiercely.”
“It’s because of you,” I whisper. “Because now I know what it feels like to be safe. To be loved without conditions. And I want to give that to someone else. I want our child to grow up knowing they’re wanted every minute of every day. I want a family with you.”
He pulls me into him so hard my breath whooshes out, but I cling right back. He kisses my temple, my cheek, the corner of my mouth, like he can’t decide where to start.
“You’ll be an incredible mother,” he murmurs against my skin. “The best.”
“And you’ll be the gentlest, scariest father in history,” I tease.
He huffs a laugh. “Blyat. No one will even look at our child unless I allow it.”
I laugh, but emotion catches in my throat.
Because this, this warmth, this teasing, this life, it’s everything I dreamed of as a kid. Everything I thought I’d never have.
His hand strokes down my spine.
“When?” he asks. “When you want to start trying?”
My smile grows. “Now.”
His answering groan vibrates through my whole body.
But he reins himself in, kissing my forehead once more before stepping back.
“Eat first,” he says, voice low and thick. “You need strength.”
I roll my eyes playfully. “Bossy.”
“You love it.”
He’s not wrong. I do.
He plates the food, and we eat at the kitchen island, like we always do. This is where we laugh. Where we talk. Where we exist as just ourselves, away from the outside world.
At one point he says, “Rik wants us over for dinner tomorrow. Perla bought an outfit she wants you to try.”
I smile. “I love Perla.”
“She loves you more.” His tone grows softer. “You know she says you’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”
I blush and hide it behind my coffee cup.
But then I look into his face, and I ask the question that’s lived quietly in the back of my mind for the past year. “Do you know anything about my dad?”
He freezes. A long, heavy beat. “Why?”
“Because I haven’t heard from him. Not once.” I swallow. “And I worry sometimes that he’ll show up again. Or that he’ll hurt someone to get money.”
“Liza.” His voice is final. “He will never hurt you again.”
The way he says it makes something in my chest loosen.
“Is he…?”
“Gone,” Danyl says simply. “And not in a way that will ever touch you.”
The relief hits so hard it almost knocks me back. I nod slowly.
I don’t care how Danyl handled it. I don’t care where my father is now, or what happened to him. I don’t care about any of it, because that man lost all rights to my heart the moment he sold me out. And I don’t want the possibility of him hurting my future child.
I slip out of my chair and climb into my husband’s lap, wrapping my arms around him. “Thank you,” I whisper.
His jaw works, like he wants to say something else, but instead he just holds me tighter.
“Come here,” he murmurs, grabbing my hand and leading me upstairs.
In our bedroom, sunlight spills through the curtains, catching on the silver rims of the photos on our dresser. Pictures documenting our year together. Trips I never expected to take, holidays I never believed I’d celebrate. Moments where I’m smiling without fear for the first time in my life.
I look at them and feel something inside me settle.
Belonging. Home. Love.
Danyl steps behind me, arms circling my waist, chin resting on my shoulder.
“You’re happy?” he asks quietly.
I reach up and touch his cheek.
“I’m more than happy,” I say. “I’m whole.”
His breath catches.
“I love you,” he says, voice breaking in that way it only does when the words punch too deep.
I turn in his arms and kiss him. Then I whisper against his lips, “Let’s start our family.”
And he smiles against my mouth, a slow, wicked, tender thing.
“As you wish, zhena.”
Wife.
His wife.
And some day, I’ll be a mother.
Thank you for reading this book!