Epilogue
SIENNA
ONE YEAR LATER
I’M STANDING AT THE EDGE of the world. Well, on The Cliffs of Moher in Ireland. A gradient of muted blues stretches out below and above, the ocean blending with the gray sky. The wind whips through my newly dyed crimson hair, and I can taste the salty tang of the Atlantic on my tongue. I close my eyes and stretch out my arms.
Feels like I’m flying.
Free.
Declan’s warm, familiar arms wrap around my waist, and he rumbles in my ear. “It’s endless.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“Is this a place you’d like to stay for a while? Or should we pick our next destination?”
I consider the question, my hand unconsciously reaching for the locket around my neck. Inside, nestled next to the picture of my grandfather, is a photo of Declan. He had the whole thing cleaned and restored for me, erasing the tarnish and any lingering bits of charcoal dust. It’s now shining like new and bursting with so much love.
“I think we can stay here longer. Explore some of the history.” I tip my head back and his comforting lips press against my forehead. “There’s a cute bed-and-breakfast in Doolin.”
“Whatever you like. I’m just along for the ride.”
I snuggle back against him, holding onto his forearms as we gaze at the ocean together. We’re completely warm inside our bubble despite the biting wind.
This past year, he’s told me that a lot: “Whatever you like.”
I felt guilty at first because he gave up so much to live this nomadic lifestyle with me.
He stepped down as CEO of NexaProtect, handing the reins over to his VP, Davis. Thankfully, the lawsuit against him got dropped, so he sold his house, cut ties with his old life, and now devotes himself entirely to supporting my dreams and goals.
I struggled for months to accept that, until one day, he finally sat me down in a hotel room and asked, “Sienna, why are you so against giving me what I want?”
“What you want?” I responded. “The scales are completely tipped toward me now. It feels like I’m being selfish because you pay for all our travel, everything I need. I get every bit of your attention. I worry I’m taking away your life. Don’t you want to, I don’t know, work on your boxing career again?”
He laughed, an abundance of new laugh lines surrounding his smile. “Boxing? First of all, I’m too old to start that again. And second, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to devote myself entirely to you. That’s a decision I made. You didn’t force me into this. I’ve accomplished a lot in my life. I’ve won matches against top opponents. I built a successful company. I’ve supported charities and done volunteer work in different countries, which I continue to do. And now my life is with you.” He pressed my palm over his heart and grinned—so wide and so vibrant. “I’m fucking happy. And life is too short and too precious for me not to spend every goddamn minute with you I can. Do whatever you like; I only ask that you let me follow. I only care about being with you for as long as you’ll have me.”
I was so moved that I asked if he’d follow me to Vegas.
We eloped the next day in a tiny white chapel lined with flowers.
Jada was pissed that she wasn’t there, so we had an extremely small beach ceremony for our friends the following month. It was on a San Francisco shoreline with a view of the Golden Gate Bridge during sunset. It was a perfect day.
Sean even attended, after months of keeping to himself.
Declan told me he feels responsible for what happened in Hawaii, even though I don’t blame him for anything. He tried to quit working for NexaProtect’s Executive Protection branch, but Declan wouldn’t let him. He gave him a huge amount of money for helping with my rescue and told Sean, “You’re on leave. Take as long as you want, but you’re not quitting.”
Sean was grumbly but agreed. He’s been really distant, though. We call him every month to check in, but he still seems…torn up.
I worry about him and hope he’s okay.
But, after getting married, Declan and I have been traveling, leaving our footprints in different U.S. cities and around the globe.
We’re exploring. The world is too big and too beautiful to be tethered to just one spot, and I get restless when I feel stuck somewhere. I prefer to keep moving.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Declan says, pulling out his phone. He shows me the screen. “As requested, two front row tickets to Jada’s opening night show in two months.”
“She’s going to be so amazing,” I say.
I’m so happy for her—she finally landed a spot in a Broadway touring company. She doesn’t expect me there on opening night, so I want to surprise her with a dozen red roses.
I turn to face Declan. He opens the front of his large wool trench coat and swallows me in the fabric. “I’d like to stop by the office next month,” I say. “Let’s stay here for a few weeks, drive around, and then I should do some responsible adult stuff.”
“Of course,” he says. He lifts my hand to kiss the inside of my wrist, right below my Phoenix tattoo, where there’s a date inked in my skin: our wedding anniversary. So I’ll always know where I belong.
Pressing my cheek against his left pectoral, where he has a matching tattoo, I close my eyes. I try not to think about everything waiting for me at my office in San Francisco. With Declan’s help, I finally established my art program under NexaProtect’s umbrella. It’s starting to take root and grow, spreading through word of mouth. Some teenagers and young adults are even beginning to visit weekly, either for one of the free art classes or just for open studios. There are also a few rooms where anyone in crisis can stay overnight and get help with finding resources for their situation.
NexaProtect and the non-profit employees have done a lot of the heavy lifting, but I still help to manage it remotely, helping with expansion efforts, always staying behind the scenes and stopping into the office every other month. I also like to teach some of the watercolor classes.
The role fits perfectly with my new lifestyle and the artwork I continue to make, because I’ve discovered that I prefer to work incognito. Using various pseudonyms, I’ve been getting my pieces into galleries across the U.S. A few savvy art collectors have connected the dots, realizing that the paintings were all done by the same artist. They’ve started rumors about who the mysterious artist might be.
I kind of love it.
Overall, life is better than I ever could have hoped. I only wish…
Declan lifts my chin to kiss me. I fall into the moment with him, savoring his warm lips when the rest of my face is so cold. Then I turn toward the ocean again.
Anthony.
I only wish things had ended differently for Anthony.
Underneath it all, he was just a broken little boy, searching for something he could never find.
Even after a year, the memory of that day still haunts me. Two bodies were found in the rubble of Anthony’s burned house, but both were so badly blackened that neither was officially identified. One is presumed to be Anthony, the other a guard, but a part of me still wonders…
No. He’s dead.
I need to stop wondering and let his memory rest.
Still, his memory reminds me why I want to keep growing my art program, spreading it to more cities. When he was young, if he’d had a place to go or had someone who cared about the living hell I’m sure Victor put him through…maybe his life would’ve been different. He would’ve been different.
I want to give that hope to other teens in trouble.
Shaking my head, I push the thoughts away, turning my focus back to my husband, to this beautiful moment.
I rest the back of my head on his chest. “You know, you don’t always have to agree with me. You can say, ‘Screw Ireland. Let’s go to Paris.’ I want to accommodate you too.”
He wraps his muscular arms around me again, securing me against his torso with one hand. The other hand pushes down the front of my jeans.
I gasp and glance around. I don’t see anyone, but I still feel scandalous about him teasing me like this in public.
“I have plenty of demands,” he says against my ear. “You know that. If you think my dirty princess doesn’t have to get on her knees whenever I command it, you’re very mistaken.”
I squirm against him. “Fine. So you want me on my knees, getting arrested for public indecency.”
He chuckles. “I doubt that. No one else is here. But no…you’ll be doing everything I want once we get to the bed-and-breakfast.”
“Then let’s go.”
He pulls his hand from my pants, sucking on his fingers before holding me again. “Not yet. I want to watch the sunrise with you.”
As I stand here, wrapped in my husband’s arms, watching the sun rise on a new day, I think about Margaret. She’ll always be a part of my past, but she no longer defines me. Even Sienna doesn’t define me.
I’m just…an artist, an idealist, a survivor. Someone with the freedom to change into newer, stronger versions of herself whenever she’s ready. Because I’ve learned that holding on to hope is so much better than drowning in despair.
That running toward my future is better than running from my past.
That life is a continual work in progress, with all its imperfections and happy accidents, its light and shadow.
That’s what makes it my greatest masterpiece.
~
Thank you so much for reading!