Epilogue
Leo
Brylee and I stand side by side in our brand new kitchen, the smell of freshly baked bread filling the air. Sunlight streamed in through the large windows, casting a warm glow over the room and highlighting the delicate floral wallpaper Brylee has painstakingly chosen. The countertops are lined with jars of colorful spices and fresh herbs, while a vintage kettle whistled cheerfully on the stove.
I watch as Brylee expertly kneads the dough, her hands moving with a grace that only years of practice could bring. Her laughter fills the room, a sound that never failed to make my heart skip a beat. A soft breeze flutters through the open window, carrying with it the sweet scent of blooming flowers from our garden outside.
As the bread bakes in the oven, I pull out two mismatched mugs from the cupboard and pour us each a cup of steaming tea. We settle down at the rustic wooden table, its surface worn smooth from countless meals shared and memories made. Brylee reaches across the table to squeeze my hand, her eyes sparkling with love and contentment. This is our home, our sanctuary from the outside world. Here, surrounded by love and warmth, we are building a life together that is more beautiful and precious than anything I can have ever imagined. I reach across the table to take Brylee's hand in mine, our fingers intertwining like puzzle pieces fitting perfectly together.
Just as we sit there, basking in the simple joy of each other's company, a pitter-patter of tiny feet echoed through the hallway. Our daughter, Kinsley, burst into the kitchen with an infectious giggle that fills the room. Her four-year-old curls bounce with every step she takes, her bright eyes wide with curiosity and wonder.
“Mommy! Daddy!” Kinsley exclaims, holding up her favorite stuffed bunny in one hand and a crayon drawing in the other. She runs over to us, her arms outstretched for a hug. Brylee scoops her up with a tender smile, pressing a gentle kiss to her rosy cheek.
“Hello, my little sunshine,” Brylee murmurs, her voice soft and warm. Kinsley giggles in response, snuggling closer to her mother's embrace.
I reach out to ruffle Kinsley's hair, feeling a rush of overwhelming love for this precious little girl who has stolen our hearts from the moment she was born. She is the light of our lives, bringing endless laughter and joy into our home with her infectious energy and boundless imagination.
She pulls herself up onto a chair, her blue eyes wide with wonder as she watches Brylee shaping the dough with practiced ease. Unable to contain her curiosity, she leans in closer, her nose nearly touching the edge of the countertop.
Brylee smiles down at her, her eyes alight. “Do you want to help us bake bread, sweetheart?”
Kinsley's face lights up like a Christmas tree, and she nods , her curls bouncing with each movement.
I lift her onto the countertop, careful to support her as she eagerly plunges her hands into the flour scattered across the surface. Together, we form little dough balls that she enthusiastically shapes into lopsided hearts and stars. Brylee beams at our daughter's enthusiasm, her own heart melting at the sight of our family coming together in our cozy kitchen.
“It looks like we got another baker in our little family.” Brylee kisses Kinsley’s forehead.
“Possibly another one coming,” I say, coming behind her and resting my hands on her baby bump. “Our house is going to be full and loud if we keep it up.”
“I wouldn’t complain one bit.”
As the aroma of freshly baked bread wafts through the kitchen, signaling our successful baking endeavor, it is time to wind down for the night. Kinsley's eyes droop with sleepiness, her yawns punctuating the air as she clutches her cuddly bunny close to her chest. Brylee and I exchange a knowing glance, silently communicating that it is bedtime.
After washing her hands, I lift Kinsley off the countertop, her flour-dusted fingers leaving tiny imprints on my shirt. She nestles into the crook of my arm as we make our way to her bedroom, her eyelids growing heavier with each step. Brylee follows closely behind, a storybook in hand.
“Time for bed, my little baker,” I whisper, kissing her forehead softly. Kinsley let out a tiny protest but soon relented, knowing that sleep is tugging at her eyelids. We make our way upstairs to her bedroom, where soft fairy lights are on the ceiling.
We settle onto Kinsley's bed, the soft glow of her night light casting a warm ambiance around us. Our little girl snuggles under her covers, her bunny tucked securely by her side. Brylee opens the storybook, her voice soothing and melodic as she began to read a tale of magical creatures and daring adventures. The words of the story weave a magical tale of far-off lands and brave heroes.
Kinsley's eyes sparkle with wonder as she hangs onto every word, her imagination whisking her away to far-off lands beyond her wildest dreams. I watch with a sense of awe and pride as my daughter's face lights up with joy and fascination, completely immersed in the enchanting narrative unfolding before her. As Brylee reaches the end of the story, Kinsley lets out a contented sigh, her eyelids fluttering closed in peaceful slumber. I brush a soft kiss against her forehead.
“Goodnight, my little angel. See you in the morning.”
As Brylee and I didn't waste any time, I come up behind her and started kissing her neck. She lets out a soft gasp, surprised by the sudden affection, then turns to face me with a playful glint in her eyes.
“Trying to distract me from cleaning up the kitchen, huh?” Brylee’s fingers trail down my chest.
I grin, unable to resist the opportunity to steal a kiss from her lips. The warmth of our embrace fills the room, a gentle reminder of the love that bound us together. The remnants of our baking adventure lay scattered on the countertops, a sweet reminder of the precious moments we shared as a family.
“A little distraction never hurt anyone.”
With a shared understanding, we set aside the task of cleaning up for later.
“Thank you for this beautiful life we have,” she murmurs.
Our love has only deepened with the arrival of Kinsley and the promise of another child on the way. “We did this together, princess.”
I didn’t waste any time putting my lips on hers.
Our bodies are moving as one towards the bedroom. The anticipation crackles in the air as Brylee began to undress, her movements slow and deliberate, each article of clothing revealing more of her flawless skin. My pulse quickens at the sight of her, a goddess standing before me in the soft glow of the night light.
I reach out to caress her cheek, my fingertips tracing the curve of her jaw as she leans into my touch. The warmth of her skin against mine sends shivers down my spine, igniting a fire within me that I can't contain. With a hunger that borders on desperation, I capture her lips once more, our bodies press together in a frenzy of need and desire. She fumbles with my shirts and pants.
The world outside fades away, leaving only the two of us in a bubble of shared passion and love. With a final gasp, we tumble onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and desire, our hearts beating as one in the darkness.
She gets on all fours on the bed and raises her ass in the air. I smack it, and then bite it. “Fuck, women. We are going to have a whole fucking baseball team.” I take my finger thumb and go underneath rubbing her clit. “You sure know how to do me in, don’t you?”
With a low growl, I enter her, thrusting hard, my hips driving into hers. Brylee cries out, her voice echoing off the walls, before grabbing a pillow.
I trace the curve of her hip with my fingertips, then let my hand drift downwards, exploring the sweet valley between her thighs. She cries out, her body arching to meet my touch.
“I'm going to fuck you senseless,” I whisper hoarsely in her ear, my palms grasping her hips. She whimpers, her body trembling.
“Oh, yes!” she cries, her voice thick with passion.
I lean down to kiss her neck, my teeth gently scraping against her skin. Her moans grow louder, fueling my own hunger as I thrust harder and deeper. “I'm going to make you come.”
My words both of us off and we both let go and enjoy the intense pleasure of what our love did to us. Everyone always told me that once we got married, our sex life would deteriorate, but we hadn’t had any issues in that arena. In fact, I still didn’t understand how we didn’t have twelve kids already.
As we lay there, breathless and entwined, the world seemed to melt away into the darkness, leaving only the warmth of each other's bodies and the faint sound of our ragged breathing. We gazed into each other's eyes. My fingers traced the curve of her back, her skin warm and supple beneath my touch.
Brylee and I have built one hell of a live together. We are a family, unbreakable and unstoppable.
“I need to clean the kitchen, but I guess I’m quite distracting.”
I lean in close and whisper. “I have a feeling that’s not all you’ve been distracted by today.”
Our love has never been more alive, more intense than it is in this moment. With every pound of my body against hers, every heartbeat that syncs perfectly with hers, we are unstoppable. The passion that burns between us, the deep connection that only grows stronger with time, is something we vow to protect, to cherish, and to let guide us through life.
As we lay there, splayed across the bed, I trace the curve of her back with my fingers, marveling at the subtle dips and valleys of her skin. I marvel at the way her breaths will sync up with mine, the way our bodies will melt into one another even in our most vulnerable moments.
Brylee is the one constant in my life, the one anchor that keeps me grounded when the world seems to be spinning too fast. And in the quiet moments, after the passion has faded and we lay spent, entwined, I can't help but feel a deep sense of gratitude.
Every day, she chooses me. Every day, she chooses love. And because of that, we are building something extraordinary together. A life filled with laughter, tears, and endless adventures. A life that, no matter what comes our way, we can face together, united by our love and our unwavering loyalty to one another.
And though we are both exhausted from the day's events, our work is never truly done. The dishes will still be there, waiting for us in the kitchen, and the laundry will continue to pile up.
Everything I have today is because I never gave up on the woman I loved.