Epilogue 01 #3
“With these, it isn’t patience that matters,” I tell him, nodding toward the water thirty yards off the stern. “It’s aggression. They hunt by sight. If you stop retrieving, they lose interest. Keep the bait moving. Fast.”
Ethan nods, focused. We get along well; our conversation flows naturally, and he always seems interested in my opinion. I know he watches me carefully, waiting for something to slip. I don’t take it personally, his caution was earned long before I came into his life.
I don’t try to prove myself or rush him. I’m simply here. I will be part of his mother’s life—and, by extension, his and his sister’s—for as long as I live. Time isn’t a pressure point; it’s an ally. Eventually, he’ll see me for who I am, not through the lens of what the past taught him to fear.
Beside him, Alicia grips her rod with nerves and excitement, her ponytail snapping in the breeze.
“And remember what I said about the teeth,” I add, checking the wire leader on her line once more. “Bluefish don’t forgive nylon; they cut through it clean. If you hook one, keep the tension. Give it slack, and they’ll spit the hook or sever the line.”
She nods, eyes fixed on the water.
I glance over my shoulder. Cecilia is lying on one of the cushioned sun loungers, shielded from the worst of the wind.
She’s wearing a cream cashmere sweater and oversized sunglasses, her e-reader in one hand.
At her feet, Sam is sound asleep, his broad body sprawled across the teak, golden fur soaked in the sun.
I suppress a smile. Traitor. He always chooses her when she’s around. But watching them like that, I can’t fault him. I understand the instinct well. I would make the same choice.
I can feel her attention on us, the faint curve of her mouth betraying her. That sight—her at ease, watching her children move comfortably in my presence—will never get old. No closed deal has ever brought me this much peace.
“Alex!”
Alicia’s voice snaps me back. The tip of her rod bows toward the water, the reel whirring as the line pays out.
“Firm your stance, Alicia,” I say, stepping in beside her. I stay close, ready if she needs support, but I don’t touch the rod, letting her own the moment. “Tip up. Let him run if you have to—don’t lock the drag.”
“It’s so strong!” she laughs, adrenaline high in her voice.
“It’s a blue,” I reply, watching the line cut cleanly through the surface. They fight aggressively. “Ethan, reel yours in. We don’t want crossed lines.”
“Already on it,” Ethan answers.
“Alright,” I continue. “Start bringing him in. Pump the rod up, reel on the way down. No rush. Keep the tension.”
The fight lasts several minutes. When the silver-and-green flash finally breaks the surface beside the hull, we all laugh. I reach for the net and the pliers. With one smooth motion, I bring the fish aboard.
It thrashes violently, nearly nine pounds of muscle and teeth, jaws snapping on the teak. The noise makes Sam lift his head, huff once, then find his place back down, unimpressed.
“My God,” Alicia says, stepping back, eyes wide. “Look at the size of that.”
“Watch your fingers,” I tell her, securing the fish and removing the hook with precision. “Excellent work, Alicia.”
I glance up briefly and catch Cecilia watching us. She’s lowered the e-reader completely now, her chin resting in her hand.
“I think we have lunch,” I say, smiling her way.
“Only if you clean it,” Cecilia calls back, her tone light.
“Fair enough,” I reply, turning back to the kids. “Who wants to learn how to fillet?”
We clean the fish right there on the stern bench. Alicia and Ethan tease each other the entire time. All week she’s been insisting that her brother needs to stop calling her Buttercup now that she’s about to turn fourteen.
I brought them out here as an early celebration, before the official party. I’ll admit, I considered skipping the main event entirely. I thought about showing up the next day, or perhaps stopping by briefly afterward, all to avoid the inevitable tension.
Montgomery makes no effort to hide his displeasure. Every time he looks at me, he seems ready to throttle me on the spot. I endure it. I would endure far worse if it meant keeping the peace for Cecilia and the kids.
I didn’t want Alicia’s day burdened by his behavior.
But Alicia asked me to be there. She looked me straight in the eye when she did.
And in that moment, I realized I would face the fury of a thousand jealous fathers if that’s what it took.
Refusing her was never an option. Next week, I will be at her party.
I will show up for her, no matter the cost.
“Alex, I think I cut it wrong,” she says, pulling me back to the present.
I lean closer. “Let me see. No, it’s good. Just angle the blade a little more. Like this.”
Once the fillets are seasoned, we set them on the grill with vegetables. When everything’s ready, we eat together, along with the pasta salad Cecilia prepared.
I take them in one by one: the kids laughing, the sea breeze tangling our hair, Sam at my side waiting for a dropped scrap.
Yeah, I think, there is nowhere in the world I would rather be.
I wake to an empty space beside me, the sheets already cold.
Sleep evaporates. I drag a hand down my face, forcing out a long breath, but my thoughts have already gone back to yesterday’s scare. To finding her far out in the water, alone on an empty beach. I made her promise to wake me if she wanted to go into the ocean this early.
I pull on sweatpants and leave the room, moving down the hallway with care so I don’t wake Ethan or Alicia.
When I reach the glass door to the porch and look out, the tension in my shoulders fades as I see her.
She’s sitting on the hanging swing, wrapped in a light blanket, watching the horizon with a calmness that is miles away from the turmoil that lived in my chest only seconds ago. Sam is sleeping at her feet, as expected.
I slide the door open, and the sound of the ocean floods in. I cross the porch and sit beside her, pulling her into my arms. She leans back as I kiss her temple.
We stay like that for a moment, watching the sun rise on the horizon.
I brush a strand of hair away from her face, my gaze lingering on her profile. This view doesn’t even come close to the feeling of having her in my arms.
“One of these days,” I murmur, my lips pressed to her temple, “I’m going to get down on one knee for you. You know that, don’t you?”
Cecilia arches an eyebrow and turns to look at me, that spark I adore, defiantly lighting her eyes. “But you already do that at least three times a week.”
A laugh slips out before I can stop it. I nip at her chin. “Sassy,” I say. “And you know exactly what I mean.”
Her expression changes into something that dismantles me every time. She lifts a hand and traces my jaw. I turn my head, pressing a kiss into her palm.
“I know,” she whispers. I feel my heart answer immediately, pounding hard into my ribs. “And I want everything with you, too.”
She gives me a half-smile. “I kept my promise,” she adds. “I stopped running.”
She leans in and kisses me. When her tongue brushes mine, for a moment, the ocean, the sleeping house, the world itself cease to exist.
She pulls back to look at me. “Ti amo, Alexander. Sei ogni stella del mio universo.”[LXXX]
There’s no resisting that. Not with her looking at me like this. I pull her into a deeper kiss, hunger and tenderness colliding without apology. Our foreheads touch, our breath mingles, and everything aligns in that perfect way.
“Sei tutto il mio mondo, Cecilia,” I murmur to her lips. “E io sono tuo per sempre.”[LXXXI]
I hold her closer, feeling the beat of her heart meeting mine, knowing—without question—that after everything, we were always meant to be.