EPILOGUE #2
As if he can read the direction of my thoughts, Nick gives me a wry smirk before he takes my hand and leads me up to the deck. The shift from the cool cabin to open air hits me as we climb the companionway into the vast brightness of a Mediterranean morning.
The teak deck is warm beneath my bare feet, the sails billowing overhead against a sky so blue it almost hurts.
The Mediterranean stretches endlessly in every direction, its surface glittering like scattered diamonds, and the salt breeze lifts my hair as we settle into the cushioned seating near the bow.
A crew member immediately starts setting out breakfast: fresh fruit, pastries, omelets, coffee for Nick, herbal tea for me. The attendant withdraws just as discreetly and then it's only us again, alone with the horizon and each other.
I reach for a croissant and start buttering a big chunk of it.
I pop it into my mouth, and I can't hold back my pleasured moan as I munch on the flaky, delicious bite.
The rest of the pastry is gone in mere seconds.
Nick's eyes warm as he watches me fill my plate with enough breakfast to choke a lumberjack.
"Don't say it," I warn him around a mouthful of omelet.
He holds up his hands, chuckling now. "I wasn't going to say anything."
I narrow my eyes at him. "You were thinking it."
"I was thinking how beautiful you look. Happy." His hand brushes my knee beneath the low table, casual and warm. "I was thinking I like seeing you enjoying a nice meal with the breeze in your hair and the sun on your cheeks."
"I like it too," I admit, reaching for another croissant.
My appetite has finally returned—and then some. This morning, I woke without any queasiness at all, and the relief of feeling normal, of wanting food, is its own small gift.
Nick pours his coffee and reaches for his tablet.
I arch a brow, but I know he can't completely check out from real life.
That restless mind of his needs something to chew on, even in paradise.
Beck has been keeping us apprised of the situation with Nadiyah, not to mention all the other Baine International business concerns, handling all of the details so we can enjoy our time away.
I sip my tea and watch Nick scroll for a few moments, his screen filled with today's headlines from the New York business section. But then something catches his attention. Surprise flickers across his face before a low chuckle escapes him.
"Well, I'll be damned."
"What is it?"
He turns the tablet toward me. The headline reads:
ROTH HOSPITALITY EXECUTIVE ANNOUNCES ENGAGEMENT
Skimming down to the article, I read the first line.
Billionaire Sebastian Roth, President of Global Development at Roth Hospitality Group, confirmed his engagement this week to Vanessa Hawthorne, daughter of Conrad Hawthorne, whose company competes directly with Roth Hospitality in several key markets.
I sit back in my seat, surprised and confused. After the fundraising gala where Nick first met his cousin, he told me Sebastian made a comment that marriage held zero appeal for him.
"That's certainly a quick about-face for a man who talked about getting married like it was some kind of punishment."
"Yeah." Nick shrugs, setting the tablet aside. "Apparently something—or someone—changed his mind."
He doesn't linger on it. His attention returns to me, his gaze settling on my face with that warm, proprietary focus that still makes my skin heat after all this time. I reach for my tea and let Sebastian Roth's engagement fade into the noise of waves and wind.
Still, the mention of Sebastian nags at me, and after a moment I have to know. "Have you thought any more about reaching out to him? Or anyone else in your mother's family?"
Nick's gaze drifts to the horizon. I watch him consider it, his jaw working slightly, a small furrow appearing between his brows.
"Some," he admits. "I don't know, though.
Sebastian knew about me for years before he said anything.
I'm still not sure what to make of that.
" He takes a drink of his coffee, his thumb rubbing idly on the cup's rim.
"But he's also the only link I have to that side of my family.
The only door that isn't already closed. "
I reach for his hand, threading my fingers through his. Not pushing. Just present.
"Your grandmother's door isn't closed, Nick. Not yet. Not as long as she's still alive."
"That's different. I'm not sure I have it in me to forgive Constance Xavier for what she and her husband, Philip, did to my mom.
Casting her aside. You say that door isn't closed, but they slammed it shut years ago.
" His voice is matter-of-fact, but I hear the edges beneath it.
"I don't know how anyone can come back from that. "
"Maybe one day, we can find out," I say quietly. "Together."
He looks at me then, something softening in his face. "Maybe."
His hand tightens around mine, and I squeeze back.
Later, after we've both eaten our fill and let the morning slowly wash over us, Nick takes my hand and we walk to the bow. The Elysium cuts through water so blue it seems to merge with the sky at the horizon, and the wind is warm against my bare arms as we stand against the rail.
Nick's arm wraps around me, pulling me against his side. I lean into the solid warmth of him, my head finding the hollow below his shoulder, my body curving into his. He presses his mouth to my hair, and I move in closer.
The sails billow overhead, catching wind, carrying us forward.
Toward what, I don't know. It doesn't matter.
What matters is the sun on my skin and the soft wind in my hair and the man beside me.
This man who has seen every broken piece of me and stayed.
He let me see his scars and trusted me not to leave.
Now, we have this… and everything still to come.
Nick presses a kiss to my temple. "What are you thinking?"
"That this is what forever feels like."
His arm tightens around me. I feel his smile against my hair. I smile too, leaning deeper into his embrace, the warmth of him steady against me.
The Elysium carries us forward, her sails full, the horizon wide and open.
And I relax into my husband's arms, knowing that whatever our future holds, we'll face it—and find our way through—together.