EPILOGUE #2
Finding ones for Oliver’s birthday is always a challenge, especially since he tends to decide at the last minute when he wants his birthday to be.
Last year, I had this idea to dress us up as the cast of Twilight for Halloween, but Grey flat-out refused to play Edward Cullen and put glitter on his face.
I pouted, of course, but Oliver saved the day by declaring that Halloween was his birthday and that his birthday wish was for us to dress up as I’d planned.
I loved him even more for it.
Misha was Jacob, and Oliver dressed up as Carlisle, whispering to me with a mischievous grin that he always thought Bella had a thing for the father of her boyfriend.
Let’s just say I found glitter in places where it doesn’t belong for days after that.
“What are you writing over there?” I ask Oliver, trying to sneak a peek at his notebook. He pulls it away with a playful grin, holding it above his head and squinting his eyes at me teasingly.
“You’ll read it soon enough,” he says, smirking.
I put on my best puppy dog eyes and lean in closer. “But I wanna know now.”
He sets the notebook down and kisses the tip of my nose. “Same old, same old. Talking about how you’re my favorite person, how living with you is my favorite life, and how kissing you…” he leans in to press his lips to mine, “… is my favorite thing to do.”
“Doesn’t it get boring after all this time?” I whisper against his lips, a smile playing at the corners of my mouth.
“There are a thousand ways to describe how something becomes my favorite,” he murmurs, pecking my lips again. “And why it’s my favorite out of all the other options out there. Loving you will never get old, my Fave.”
“I love you, too,” I reply, kissing him once more before leaning against him and closing my eyes, soaking up the warmth of the sun while my hand reaches over him to absently stroke Peanut’s fur.
After a few peaceful moments, Grey joins us, having finally managed to leash Doctor, who comes barreling up and nearly plops right into my lap. Right now, it’s still almost possible for him to fit, but soon, he’ll be as big as Peanut, and I can only hope he’ll realize he is, in fact, not a lap dog.
“What do you guys think? Want to head home? All this chasing around has made me hungry,” Grey says, smiling down at me as he pulls Doctor off and extends a hand to help me up.
I smile back and take his hand, letting him pull me to my feet.
Oliver and Misha stand as well, gathering up the blanket and our things while I clip Peanut’s leash onto his collar.
Grey keeps a firm grip on Doctor’s leash, trying to prevent him from dragging us home while Peanut ambles along at a leisurely pace beside me.
I glance up at Grey, who’s already looking at me with a warm smile. “You ready for next week?” he asks, his eyes searching mine.
Next week, August and his family are coming to visit.
I hadn’t heard from him in almost three years before he finally reached out, and we started to rebuild our relationship.
It took him some time to figure out how to steer the law firm in a better direction, but he did it—even with our father’s reluctant blessing, though August said he doesn’t share all the details with him.
Apparently, he and Abigail did make up, and she and the girls will be visiting, too, and I’m genuinely excited to see them.
“Ready as can be, but definitely excited,” I tell Grey, and he squeezes my hand reassuringly.
I haven’t heard from my parents since everything happened. I didn’t reach out to them, and they never tried to contact me—not a single call, letter, or message. Not even through August.
But that’s okay.
It’s more than okay.
It’s good.
Maybe closure isn’t what I thought it was. Maybe I don’t need to revisit every detail or rehash the past one more time. I don’t need to seek healing from the people who hurt me.
Maybe what I truly need is to honor my own feelings—to be the one who stands firm in the knowledge that the situation no longer serves me and its time has passed. Perhaps closure comes from trusting what I already know to be true.
If someone’s absence brings you peace, you absolutely did not lose anything.
But even though I’m good now, more than good, I feel a little vindicated.
I hope my success offends the shit out of them.
Not only am I good enough, I’m more than enough.
It’s a lesson I learned from therapy. It helped me work through my family issues and coping mechanisms. I’m feeling so much better and grounded.
Enough.
Talking to Grey during our many puppy walks helped a lot too.
He also has a therapist now and seems to have finally found his own sense of closure with his parents.
They send the occasional card and call every now and then—suspiciously, it all started once our success went public and the accolades began pouring in.
At first, I was worried about how Grey would handle their obvious two-faced attempts to reconnect, but he’s taken it all in stride.
He’s polite but distant, keeping them at arm’s length, just as they did with him his whole life.
I’m so proud of him, words don’t even do it justice.
We’ve built our own family, and after visiting Misha’s family two years ago and seeing firsthand what he meant by they’re a little much, I’m even more grateful for the way ours is. Misha’s family is amazing but big—his four siblings all have at least two kids each.
Having this small, close-knit family of ours, packed with meaning and filled with our favorite people—it’s all I ever wanted.
More than I ever wanted.
Approaching the house, Grey glances over at me and asks, “What do you want me to cook for dinner tonight? Something special?”
Grandpa and Morgan are sitting on the garden porch, soaking in the beautiful late afternoon.
“How about we order something instead?” I suggest, not wanting to make him spend two hours in the kitchen today.
I want them all to be as close as possible, which is my way of celebrating our life together.
“Pizza!” Misha shouts from behind us, making me snicker.
Of course.
“Who eats pizza for an anniversary?” Oliver mutters, but I hear the smile in his voice.
“People with taste,” Misha fires back.
Well, facts.
When we reach the fence of our expansive garden, we step through and unleash the dogs. Doctor immediately bolts toward Morgan while Peanut takes his time, leisurely making his way to Grandpa.
“How was the meadow?” Morgan asks with a smile as we come to stand beside them.
“Amazing, as always,” I reply, returning her smile. “But the garden looks just as beautiful. You guys did an incredible job with the flowers.”
Morgan beams with pride. “I just planted them. Grandpa decided which ones would look best together. When one set of flowers stops blooming, the next batch starts right on time.”
I glance at Grandpa, who strokes his mustache with his right hand. “Everything has its time,” he says, his eyes twinkling.
“It does,” I agree with a grin.
“And it’s almost time for dinner,” Misha chimes in. “You guys good with pizza?”
“Oh yeah, that sounds perfect.” Morgan beams. “Let me text Rob. He’s finishing up work in a few minutes, and he can pick up the pizza on his way home. That way, we won’t have to wait for delivery.”
“Amazing. Just get the usual, please,” Oliver says with a smile.
A moment later, Morgan’s phone buzzes, and she reads out, “Sounds like it’ll take about an hour. He has to drop Willow off somewhere first. Do you still want him to bring it, or should we order instead?”
“No, let him bring it,” Grey says with a mischievous grin. “We can find something to do for an hour.”
“I don’t want to know.” Morgan puts up a finger at him. “Just let me keep the puppies, and I’m happy.”
I stick my tongue out at her, and she returns the gesture, making us both giggle as the guys and I head inside.
“So, what are we doing for the next hour?” Misha murmurs in my ear when I come to a stand inside.
“Well, I’m going to change into something more comfortable, and you still have flowers stuck all over your hair,” I tease with a grin. He grabs the flower from my ear and twirls it in between his fingers.
“Sounds like we all should lose our clothes,” Grey murmurs.
I turn and find all three of them giving me that familiar, hungry look. Without another word, I sprint up the stairs, laughing as Jamie’s voice chimes in through the speakers.
“Hello, Amelia.”
“Hey, Jamie. I’m a little busy right now,” I reply, panting as I run, the sound of the others chasing close behind.
“I’m detecting an elevated heart rate. Are you all right?” Jamie asks, sounding concerned.
“Oh, I’m more than all right, but thanks for asking,” I pant out as I reach our shared bedroom, dashing for the attached bathroom. “Jamie?”
“Yes?”
“Standby!” I shout just as Oliver catches up, wrapping his arms around me and lifting me off the floor, making me squeal with laughter.
“Gotcha,” he says triumphantly, holding me tight as I kick the air in front of me, my laughter echoing through the room.
His arms are strong around my waist, and I squirm playfully, trying to get free even though I love being in his hold.
When Oliver turns me, I catch sight of Grey and Misha right behind us before his lips meet mine, and a spark ignites within me, setting my skin ablaze.
The others close in on me, too, their hands starting to roam my body, the curve of my waist, my hips, pushing my hair behind my shoulder to kiss my neck. Then, someone starts to undo my pants.
“Wait,” I breathe out, breaking away from Oliver’s intoxicating kiss. I look into his forest-green eyes, then turn to Grey and Misha, who are already looking at me like predators closing in on their prey. “I want to see all of you first.”