Epilogue
DANI
Eighteen Years Later
The doorbell rings, and I halt halfway through packing this box up.
“Alexander, can you get that, please?” I yell as a loud thud hits the floor above.
I have no idea what he’s doing up there, nor do I want to.
Rolling my eyes, I hear the door shut loudly before I see him flying down the stairs.
His size twelve combat boots echo, hitting each step with a solid thunk as he rounds the banister before flashing me a guilty smile.
“I don’t want to know,” I tell him as he chuckles loudly to the door.
All chuckling stops as he opens it. His posture is stock-still, and his mouth is slightly open.
A surge of worry grips me. I stand abruptly, dropping the items onto the floor with a sudden clatter, and I move quickly toward the door.
Standing behind him, I see a girl in her mid-twenties, staring back at him.
When she sees me, she smiles. She waves timidly.
Dark brown hair cascades over her heart-shaped face.
Her eyes are the same, but this time, they sparkle, light, and happy.
“You may not remember me,” she says guardedly, “I’m R—”
“Rose,” I finish for her. “My God, Rose. Look at you, honey.” I walk to the door, past my son, and open the screen door, pulling her into a hug. “Come in, please. Vic is here, let me get him.”
I run up the stairs where my husband is just getting out of the shower. He drops his towel, and I can’t help but be drawn to the sight of him. Snapping myself out of my lust-filled haze, “Babe, I need you.” He walks over to me, his cock standing at attention.
“We don’t have much time, baby, but you can choke—” I laugh, making him stop mid-sentence, his brows furrow in confusion.
“I’ll take care of that,” I wave my hand around his genital region, “later, but I need you to get dressed quickly and come downstairs,” I say before walking toward the door. I turn to address him before exiting our bedroom. “And hurry. There’s someone here you need to see.”
With sparked curiosity, he turns abruptly, already pulling his shirt over his head as I walk out, bumping straight into a mousy little girl with pink hair and a nose ring, leaving my son’s bedroom.
She gives me a sheepish wave as she runs down the stairs, past Alexander, and straight out the door.
Alexander doesn’t spare her a glance, his focus solely on Rose.
Rose looks from him to the girl who ran past, disapproval in her eyes as she turns her head away from him, not sparing him another moment’s glance.
This makes him smile more, and I feel sorry for poor Rose, who obviously has my son’s full attention now.
Vic comes bouncing down the stairs much like his son, but when he sees who is waiting there, he stops.
“Rose,” he says, almost in shock as he makes his way toward her.
Tears run down my cheeks watching them reunite.
She runs over to him and hugs him as tears also run down her face.
Alexander stiffens, not understanding what this means to us.
We lost touch with her, but it's clear that she found us after all these years.
He pulls back to take in her appearance.
She is dressed nicely. Her frame is still small, but healthy, and she looks good. Most of all, she seems happy.
“Come sit down and let us get you something to drink.” She follows us and looks at the pictures displayed on the wall in the hallway leading to the back kitchen area.
But she stops at the picture she recognizes.
It’s one she drew long ago that Vic had framed, and placed proudly along with all our best accomplishments and memories. Her hand goes up to her mouth in shock.
“You kept it after all these years?” she asks, bewildered as if she just remembered the drawing.
Vic comes to stand next to her. She looks up at him, smiling, and he looks down at her.
It’s almost the same picture, but today, here in this house, after all those years.
Alexander stares at them, understanding in his eyes, and something else I haven’t seen in him before, besides with his family. Love.
I beckon them to come into the kitchen, as we take our seats at the eight-person island in the center of the room.
She is just about to pull out a chair when Alexander comes out behind her and pulls it out for her.
She thanks him, her posture stiff, and when he sits next to her, she stares at him.
I look over at my husband to see if he is catching this, and he must notice the same thing because he smiles and winks at me.
I walk to the refrigerator and pull out four bottles of Jarritos soda.
I open each one using the new opener by the fridge, which has a little wooden box that catches all our tops, so there is no need to dispose of them immediately.
We bought this at an antique show popular in the area, and it’s one of my favorite items that I used to have in my house before we sold it.
I hand out each one, and we catch up on all the years that have passed since we were away from Boston and out of the loop in Rose’s life.
“So do you still live in Boston, Rose?” Vic asks, and we all turn to her. A smile graces her lips as they tip up slightly, as if recalling something.
“Well,” she says carefully, “I actually live in New Hampshire at the moment.” She hesitates briefly before continuing.
Alexander immediately sits straight up, and I look over to Vic, seeing if he notices, and yep, he does.
Nothing gets past that man. “I go to school there,” she comments and then looks to Vic.
“Remember that last conversation we had, the day before I left with my aunt to go and live with her?” She looks over at me because I was there, too.
My hands go to my mouth to hide the gasp that comes, because I think I know what she is going to say.
Vic leans in closer as if he could hear her better.
He nods, waiting for her to continue. “You told me that this moment doesn’t define me.
That I make my own path and choose how I want to live my life.
” Tears start to flow down my cheeks, and my son looks over to me and then at his father.
When he turns to look at Rose, her eyes have a sheen to them, but she isn’t sad, she’s happy.
I went to college. I graduated from Dartmouth and am in medical school now.
” She says proudly, and Vic comes around the corner to hug her.
He tells her how proud he is of her and how special she is to him.
Before she tells us she needs to get going, she shares how she came here with some friends and needs to get back soon.
We hug and make plans to keep in touch. “I’ll walk her out," Alexander says, and I already know this is a bad idea, but we stay close by, listening as best we can, hopeful we don’t have to intervene.
Our son has some of his father’s obsessive qualities, but it hasn’t ever been a problem before.
She gets to the door, and we lean our bodies into the hallway out of sight, but still in hearing range.
He opens the door for her, and he stops her from exiting, her body half in and out of the house as he holds the door.
“You know,” he says, leaning forward just as she turns halfway to him, waiting for him to finish what he has to say so that she can leave, “I’m going to Dartmouth, too—my dad’s alma mater.
Guess I’ll be seeing you there. Maybe we can hang out? ” She stiffens.
“I don’t know if your girlfriend would appreciate that.”
He laughs cruelly. “Oh, my little Rose, she isn’t my girlfriend. Don’t worry.”
He lifts his hand to her face, staring at her. She doesn't move. They are mere inches away as he tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear so softly. Her eyes soften for a minute before she pulls away just as he starts to lean in.
“Maybe I’ll see you around, little Alex,” she taunts. He rises from the doorframe, and Vic and I can’t help but chuckle.
“Nothing little about me, baby,” he says, standing tall at his six-foot-four frame.
“Promises, promises,” she sings as she rounds the corner, meeting his stare and waving as she drives off. We walk out of the kitchen as he stands there in the doorway, his head hung down. He hears us approach and stands upright, closing the door, and not meeting our stare.
“You are so fucked,” Vic says as he laughs, taking my hand in his, leading me back up to our bedroom.
“Alex, finish packing up these boxes, please. I need to help your father with something,” I say as Vic tries to stifle a laugh.
“Gross! I don’t want to know,” we hear him yell up the stairs as the door to our bedroom shuts. Vic comes prowling towards me and pushes me down onto my knees. His eyes sparkle with humor.
“I hope he knows what he’s getting into,” I say, before pulling his cock free from his joggers. His eyes darken with lust as his hand comes to cup my cheek, tilting my head up and looking down at me adoringly.
“I hope he does,” he murmurs affectionately, "because maybe she is the only one that can calm the beast within.”
I take his thick cock in my hand, giving it a firm stroke, as he hisses through his teeth. I look up at him, as he stares down at me through hooded lashes, “And what if,” I press a kiss to the tip of his cock, licking the precum that’s collected there, “the monster is the only man you need?”