EPILOGUE
FIVE YEARS AND EIGHT MONTHS LATER
The wind rustles softly through the tall grass, carrying the scent of wildflowers on its gentle breeze, and sunlight filters through the leaves, casting playful shadows that dance across my arms as I chew on a Twizzlers.
It’s one of those perfect days.
There are a lot of them lately.
We’re in the meadow just twenty minutes from the house we bought—a peaceful retreat away from the bustle of Seattle.
The house is more like two and a half homes combined into one.
The largest section is ours, complete with a spacious shared bedroom for all of us, featuring a massive bed.
Each of us also has our own room, a personal space for our belongings and clothes, and a quiet place to retreat or work.
But we also have a big home office where we can all work together, an amazing kitchen where Grey is constantly experimenting with new recipes for us, and a music room with a beautiful Steinway piano the guys gifted me for my last birthday. It even has an engraving on the front.
Ivor E. Key the Second.
I absolutely love playing on it.
Playing for them.
In the center of our connected homes is a cozy, accessible section just for Grandpa.
Despite still not having full use of his left arm, he recovered well, is in good shape for his eighty-seven years, and is enjoying a slower, more peaceful pace of life.
Morgan is still with us as well, taking care of him, but she’s now living in the final section of the house.
With Hendricks and Willow.
After we left Elysium, it took us months to figure out our game plan—to decide exactly what we wanted our company to be and what values we wanted to uphold.
We only knew one thing for certain.
It’s about technology that’s meant to help, not to take.
Once we had our vision clear, we launched our company with purpose and precision, making our presence known in the industry.
Despite the time it took to get everything right—eight months spent living at Grandpa’s—we ended up revolutionizing the market and turning ourselves into billionaires.
All the while, Elysium tried to sue us, but with Grandpa’s knowledge and connections in the legal community, they didn’t stand a chance.
As our company grew, so did our family. When we began involving Hendricks more in our plans and hired him as head of operations, he and Willow naturally became closer to us.
It was during this time that Morgan developed a crush on Hendricks—something that might have gone unnoticed if it weren’t for Willow’s matchmaking talents.
She made sure they spent plenty of time together, and before long, Hendricks was just as smitten.
Now, they’re part of our family in more ways than one, and I couldn’t be happier for them.
The house is nestled close to Misha’s favorite hiking trails, offering us a close connection to nature while still being conveniently near the city for those rare days we decide to go to the office.
Which, to be honest, isn’t all that often.
One of the perks of being the bosses is the freedom to work from home, where we can focus on projects and innovations without distractions. Hendricks handles the day-to-day operations at the company, always having our backs.
Tetra Technology—that’s the name the guys chose for us.
Tetra, for the fish that started the path that ended my loneliness.
Tetra, as in four, represents the four of us.
A team.
Our little stolen aquatic friends have become an integral part of the company, thriving in an enormous aquarium at the center of our office since Morgan didn’t want them at the house.
The aquarium is a space filled with everything a tetra could ever want—lush plants, vibrant corals, and plenty of room to explore. From time to time, we even buy—not steal—new tetras to join them, keeping the tank lively and reminding us of where we started.
It’s a living pillar to our story.
Today marks the five-year anniversary of Tetra Technology, and what better way to celebrate than by taking the day off to simply enjoy each other’s company?
The sun is warm on my skin, the sky is a perfect blue, and the birds are singing in the trees. It’s the kind of day that makes everything feel right in the world.
Grey is playing with Doctor, our new Bernese Mountain Dog puppy, who’s bounding around with endless energy. I snicker as I watch Grey try to catch and leash him. Doctor is all floppy paws and enthusiasm, darting just out of Grey’s reach every time he thinks he’s got him.
Next to me on the blanket, Peanut is lying contentedly beside Oliver, who’s absorbed in writing in his notebook.
Peanut is an old boy now, his muzzle graying and his movements slower, but his eyes still light up when he watches Doctor play.
Sometimes, the puppy’s energy is a bit much for him, but he loves his little buddy and keeps a watchful eye on him.
Misha is lying on his stomach on my other side, casually flipping through a tech magazine, completely oblivious to the fact that I’ve been plucking daisies from the edge of the blanket and weaving them into his curls.
His head is now a riot of white and yellow blossoms, the flowers standing out vividly against his dark hair.
He’s so relaxed, so content.
We all love our new home out here, but for Misha, it’s like he’s found a deeper peace.
Since moving here, his insomnia has almost vanished.
He’s able to sleep next to us every night, curled against me, and the dark circles that once lingered under his eyes have faded.
On the rare nights when sleep still eludes him, he either channels that energy into work or takes me to a certain twenty-four-seven burger joint for milkshakes and fries.
Being closer to the trails means our hiking trips can start later, allowing us to catch the sunrise without losing too much sleep. It’s a small change, but one that’s made a world of difference for Misha.
Still, we have never missed a sunrise we wanted to see. Even on those mornings when Oliver and Grey join us—Oliver with enthusiasm, though a bit clumsy on the rocky paths, and Grey with his grumpiness that only fades when the first rays of sunlight break the horizon—we always end up in awe.
By the time the sun is fully up, we’re all cheering and dancing with Misha on the mountaintop.
Ba doo doo ba!
And thanks to all the hikes I’ve taken over the years with Misha, I’m finally able to keep up with him.
Almost.
I laugh quietly to myself when I realize there’s no more space for another daisy. Misha, sensing my amusement, turns to look up at me with a smile. “What are you up to, Bug?” he asks teasingly.
I feign innocence, holding back a grin. “Nothing.”
But then he notices the daisy still in my hand and reaches up, feeling the flowers woven through his hair. Smirking, he moves quickly, grabbing me and pulling me down onto my back beside him. He hovers over me, stealing the daisy from my grasp with a playful glint in his eye.
“You little minx.” He snickers before tucking the flower behind my ear. “There,” he says, his eyes sparkling as he admires his handiwork. “Perfect.”
His gaze is soft, filled with warmth as he leans in to kiss me, a sweet brush of lips that makes my heart flutter.
After almost six years, they still give me butterflies.
“How’s the weather inside you today?” Misha murmurs, his hand on my shoulder and his thumb brushing over my collarbone.
I smile at him, bright and full, reaching up to stroke his cheek. “It’s a never-ending sunrise.”
“You’re my never-ending sunrise,” he murmurs before leaning in to kiss me deeply, his lips lingering on mine as he holds my throat gently, probably feeling how much my heart is racing.
When Misha breaks the kiss, he returns to his magazine, flipping the pages with a contented smile. I turn my attention to Oliver, who’s sitting cross-legged with his notebook balanced on his knee, scribbling away.
We took creative writing lessons together a while back, and ever since, he’s made it a habit to write me even more letters.
Love letters.
Sometimes once a month, sometimes even weekly, depending on our schedules and whatever’s going on in our lives.
Each one is a treasure, and I’ve bought a beautiful chest to store them in my room.
I love reading through them from time to time.
They feel like a journal of our relationship, a diary of our journey and the depth of our feelings for each other.
It’s my favorite thing.
As for me, I’ve mostly used my creative writing lessons to craft digital sticky notes that pop up around the house when triggered by specific actions or locations.
The last one was, It needs more cheese, I love you, which appeared when Grey was putting lasagna into the oven.
It made him jump and spill some ricotta on the floor, and I almost laughed my head off.
The AR technology I’ve developed has advanced so much over the last few years and combined with the guys’ AI expertise—and Jamie’s brilliance—we’ve created something truly powerful. It’s the vision I’ve always had in mind, a dream I once only dared to imagine.
The current version of Jamie, coupled with my lensless AR, is a groundbreaking product that will lead the market. Once again, we’re poised to revolutionize the industry.
Everyone knows our name, and we’re determined to stay at the forefront.
I glance at Oliver’s socks peeking out of his sneakers—a blue pair adorned with bright yellow rubber ducks—and can’t help but smirk.
We have this tradition called Silly Sock Sunday, where Misha, Grey, Grandpa, Morgan, Willow, and even Hendricks join in, and we all wear goofy socks while having brunch together.
But Oliver and I wear our silly socks every day. It’s become such a thing that everyone gifts us socks for birthdays and Christmas, and I love it, even if it’s getting harder to find unique pairs.