Epilogue
brONTE
Almost two years later…
She still looks at Prague the same way she did the first time I took her here on our honeymoon.
Her light brown eyes soak and look at everything—every noise, every movement that catches her peripheral, and every note that plays off someone who’s orchestrating their own little concert on the cobblestoned sidewalks.
Mixed with the magic of the holidays, Meirna is back in her element. It brings back all the emotions and feelings of having her as my wife, like it did before.
There’s nothing I’d change about the origins of Meirna and I. Everything we have is uniquely perfect and chaotic. Meirna brings color and depth into my life that I didn’t have before. So much so that I was almost certain she’s going to decorate our new home in pink, fuzzy carpet.
Which would have been fine.
As long as I was able to fuck her in it.
Our home in Boston is on a bit of land. Space that our twin boys, Lennon and Rowan, will roam and cause havoc on. From experience, I know twin boys, and my fear is having them end up like Bobby and me.
However, Meirna isn’t Catherine, and neither has shown signs of being a fucking asshole, so there’s that.
Mind you, their only three months old. But Lennon didn’t try to kill Rowan in the womb or vice versa, so we’re winning there.
Nonetheless, I’m on the lookout for any signs of excessive competition because history will not be fucking repeating itself. To bring any more drama into our lives that I’ve squashed out.
Bobby left New York City ruined. The media dragged him so much, he went overseas somewhere. Hopefully, feeling abandoned and betrayed like I did when our parents shipped me away over his lies.
Except mine were truths.
My sperm donor, Alan, sold Harding Holdings because he was on the verge of bankruptcy. He took a loss bigger than his bruised ego and sold my childhood home because they couldn’t afford it.
Catherine is divorcing him, trying to take everything he has, which isn’t much. She’s dating some CEO in Memphis, I’m sure, to regain her status and wealth, while changing her name.
I may or may not have sent him an anonymous email of her real identity just out of spite. If Alan is going down for his lack of being a decent parent and even a fitting financial advisor, she’s going to do with him.
“Noooo,” Meirna suddenly drones in the kitchen of the same suite we stayed at for our honeymoon. Call me nostalgic. “The frosting came out too quick.”
And, just like the last time, Meirna is making gingerbread cookies because my wife is still a Christmas fanatic.
Stepping up from behind her, I look over her shoulder, and all she messed up was the smile on one of them. “You’re obsessing.”
“It has to be perfect.”
“It is,” I retort, looking them over. “Nothing you do is anything less than.”
She glances over her shoulder at me with furrowed brows. “Except when I’m not naked and waltzing through our house with our infant children.”
“See, that is a problem. I’ve been trying to tell you. We need a bigger house.”
Meirna rolls her eyes and scoffs, shaking her head at me and returning to the gingerbread men—women with pink skirts on. “We just moved into that house. And I told you having children would change things.”
“Not all things, I hope.” I wrap my arm around her middle and pull her flush against my chest. “I can still whisk you away and have my way with you. Regardless of the boys, I liked you spread on the dryer just fine.”
A small chuckle leaves Meirna’s lips, but she tries to suppress it. “Soon, they’ll be hunting us down.”
“Then I’ll build a secret room or tunnel, and everything will be right in the world.”
“A sex room?” she drones. “How about a few locks? That might be cheaper.”
Right.
“All in all, Daydream, I’ll still get my way.”
Meirna pulls the plate of cookies toward us and gestures with her hand, “Our children.”
I immediately push my lips out because “They’re girls.”
My girl is silent for a moment before she slowly turns around with a small smile on her face. “Surprise.”
Blinking, I don’t get the gesture or the joke.
“We’re having twins,” she quips excitedly, her eyes twinkling with enthusiasm. “Girls.”
The fuck?
I heard the words.
I understand what they mean. However, not in our world.
Meirna’s impatience gets the best of her because my lack of response takes too long when she narrows her eyes and explains, “I’m pregnant again, you insatiable animal. Again.”
We just had twin boys three months ago.
And you fucked her the moment the doctor gave her the green light.
Lifting her into my arms, I place her ass on the countertop, careful not to tip over her cookies, and wedge my body between her thighs.
“I told you,” I remind her because I meant it. “To come prepared.”
“I am prepared,” she replies with a lift of her chin. “Bring it.”
A mirthless scoff leaves my throat because I think it was the other way around.
I didn’t come prepared because four kids—when the hell am I ever going to get time alone with my wife?
Attic.
Basement.
Inside the back of your SUV.
Pool house?
I need to build a pool house.
“Are you freaking out?”
I immediately shake my head. “No, I’m building a pool house.”
She frowns. “What—” My mouth collides with hers in a heated and needy kiss, expressing everything words won’t do justice to or for.
Wrapping my arm around her, I pull her flush against my body and explicitly state how happy I am that she’s pregnant again..
Girls.
Fuck me.
I don’t know shit about little girls, but I’m a fast learner. Two little Meirnas running around versus two little boys, we need a new house.
“We gotta move, Daydream,” I mutter against her lips. “Our house is going to be a circus.”
I feel her smile against my lips. “It’ll be fine.”
“You’ll pull your hair out.”
“You just want a bigger place to build a whole wing for us so we can fuck whenever you please.”
I mean…
“We can get more land. A bigger kitchen with two ovens. A wing for us to have some…alone time.”
Meirna gently bites on my lower lip and drags it downward, causing my cock to twitch excitedly in my dress slacks. “With a movie theatre?”
“Mhm-hm. Maybe a jacuzzi for the two of us.”
“A bigger kitchen island?”
I squeeze her ass with, “Stay on topic, Daydream. We’re talking about our sex palace.”
A broken chuckle reverberates off her chest. “I was. So you can get on top and have your way with me all the time.”
Grinding my cock against her core, I reply, “You’ve got yourself a deal, Mrs. Vasiliou.”