Epilogue
Dominik
Seven Months Later
Life with Talia... I never thought it could be better.
But she proved to me that it could.
Yes, we still bickered, and we always would.
Just like we did this morning on whether or not she should go back to work.
See... we hadn’t listened to the doctor after she gave birth to the twins.
Nope. Not us.
So, we were waiting for baby number three to come into this world, any day now, and he or she would be an Irish twin to the twins.
That’s a tongue twister if I’ve ever heard one.
But ultimately, when I placed Isaiah in her arms, and then Ryder, she agreed.
The way to get to my woman was through her babies.
She was an amazing mother.
And I knew that had the baby I’d made with Jillian... Talia would have loved him or her equally.
She had also surprised me with something for Christmas.
It was a frame with a piece of artwork in it.
To the right, it read, Big Angel, with a halo atop it. Then beside that was Isaiah’s name and his footprints above it. And beside that were Ryder’s footprints above that.
And I thought I couldn’t love her more.
Her water broke seventeen hours later, and then Zada Elouise Davis was born.
Zada for my mother.
And Elouise was Henrietta’s middle name.
It was fucking perfect.
I was cursed.
Because my little Zada looked just like her mother.
We were home after the birth, and everyone had shown up.
Three kids under a year old.
We weren’t doing that again.
I did what Garrick did, and Talia had smiled and gotten her tubes tied as well.
Because, according to her, we had four kids and that was the perfect number. One of them just flew around us all the time, being our guardian angel.
***
The moment the song came on, I gathered Zada in my arms and started dancing with her around the house.
I started humming along to Dance In The Rain by Charles Wesley Godwin .
And that would be the song I would dance with her to at her own wedding.
Talia smiled and waited until the next song came through on our new surround sound speaker system.
Then she tagged the boys and danced with them.
Talia
Ten Years Later
I glared as all three of my kids came into the house covered in motor oil and grease, and then I glared at my husband.
“You didn’t.” I snapped.
The kids were used to this, and they loved it.
Their eyes ping ponged back and forth.
He lifted a brow, “What?”
“Do you know where we have to be in thirty fucking minutes?” I asked with a growl.
He shook his head.
He. Shook. His. Head.
The kids gasped.
Then giggled.
“Are you serious?” I asked.
He stared at me and lifted his brows.
“Are you telling me that you forgot all about Larson’s wedding? The wedding where our kids are supposed to be ready to help usher guests to their seats? Where Zada is a flower girl? Is your fucking phone broken?”
His eyes flared and his face paled, “Fuck.”
I glared.
Then I snapped, “Fix this. Fix it fucking now.”
He nodded, then ushered the kids to the bathroom.
We were over an hour late, and at the sight of the kids with wet hair still, Penelope winked.
***
He buried his face in my neck and whispered, “I’m sorry.”
I sighed, “Who started the fight?”
He chuckled, “Zada.”
I lifted a brow and asked, “Why?”
“Ryder told her that girls don’t know what spark plugs are.”
I looked at my girl, then I winked, “Good job.”
“Mama!” Ryder gasped.
Isaiah chuckled, “Warned you.”
I took in our kids, then my husband and I planned.
That next night... I may or may not have been the first to fling peas at him.
Needless to say, the kids had a ball, and we spent the better part of four hours cleaning our house from peas, mashed potatoes, and meat loaf.
Guess it’s a good thing that one fractured soul recognizes another.
Because we were both living our best lives.
And we had more to look forward to.
If I didn’t smother my sons in their sleep.
I didn’t know that a deviated septum was genetic.