Epilogue Two
Two years after
“Ican’t believe he wasn’t kidding this time,” I sigh, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I can’t believe they were trying. I mean, holy shit Brooks, we’re not even forty, and we’re going to be grandparents.”
Brooks pokes his head out of the tiny bathroom, one of those weird-looking green clay masks on his face.
“Well, now that Tally’s out of diapers, we can pass them along to Colt and Nikolas.
Relax, they’re going to make great dads.
Besides, with Tallulah and their little nugget so close in age, it’ll be like you’re doing it together this time, he can see what all you had to go through. ”
“I just wish they’d gotten completely through college,” I grumble.
“Evan,” Brooks sighs and fixes me with an annoyed look, “you and I both know that Nikolas has surgery in mind. I can’t fault them for wanting to make this happen before he can’t anymore.
They’re being responsible and are future oriented.
Besides, Colt is doing well for himself at the studio, and Nikolas’ app is doing well. ”
My husband isn’t wrong, Petro is set to find success with the app he’s been developing, and will likely make it big in the tech world.
Colt is apprenticing at a successful tattoo parlor, and is set to graduate in a couple more years, which is when he plans on opening his own studio.
I let him ink me up a few more times, and currently he’s working on a sleeve for me.
Everyone’s birthflower: his, Miranda’s, Brooks’, Morgan’s, Tally’s—even Ryann’s, because without her, we wouldn’t have been blessed with Captain Morgs.
I guess I’ll now have to save a little space for my grandbaby, too.
Maybe it can go right next to the bee Colton etched into me as a joke, because he thought it’d be funny to remind me how I risked fuckin’ my life battling one in order to get Brooks those flowers years ago.
Kid can still be a prick sometimes, vandalizing my body, but I still love the ever-loving shit out of him regardless.
I’m proud of him, and I’m happy that he does appear to have his, Petro’s, and their baby’s future in mind.
As her DBA, I’m proud of Morgan too. She decided to follow in her father’s footsteps and is halfway through getting her B.S.
in Outdoor Recreation and Leadership. She’s already implemented some necessary changes to the programming at Camp Healing Waters, and the camp is actually one of the top in the state now, even with his specialty designation.
She and I have worked together a lot on the business side of things, allowing Brooks to just work on his therapy—and to take time for himself.
Well, as much as our active four-year-old will allow.
“Are you going to wash that shit off your face and get out here or what?” I call out to Brooks.
He pokes his head back out of the bathroom again. “It gives me, and I quote, flawless skin. Don’t rush me, it’s our first baby free night in”—he pauses to think—“well, heck if I know. I’m practicing some self-care here, that’s all I do know.”
I groan. “You’re already gorgeous, though,” I whine.
He steps fully out of the bathroom now, clad in an outfit that is entirely made of lace and satiny-looking straps. Must be another new one, because I don’t recall seeing this one on him before. As usual, he looks stunning in it, though.
“You really think so?” he asks me, and I’m sure that if his freckled cheeks weren’t covered in that crusty bullshit, they’d be pink.
“You really have to ask me that?” I quip with a roll of my eyes. “I’m sure Gannett’s got a full-length mirror on this boat somewhere. Do I need to dig it back out and show you just what I think?”
He bites his lip, a salacious smirk forming on them.
He grabs a little pinch of his belly. “I feel like I look a little like a hog in this,” he teases, knowing damn well he’s in the best shape of his life now that he's had time to get back into swimming. The lake in the summer; the Y in the winter. He and I also hike a lot too, and I know I’m feeling like I can do that better now that I’ve finally kicked those stupid friggin’ smokes.
After a day of chasing Tally around, however, I feel every bit my age.
I swat his hand away and haul him onto my lap, nuzzling into his neck, minding that mask of his. “I’ve told you a million times already, and I’ll tell you a million more. You’re perfect, Brooks Waters-Gallagher.”
He sinks into me and sighs. “You know, I’m still a little miffed we aren’t EWW BUG anymore, Evan Waters-Gallagher.”
“Who even says miffed these days, babe?” I huff. “Would you like to get divorced, so you can have our old initials back?”
“No! No, no… of course not,” he fires back quickly.
“That’s what I thought,” I say, grinning smugly. “Now, please go wash that shit off your face, or else I will eat your pie instead.”
“Do not touch my strawberry rhubarb pie! You have your own danged apple pie!”
“I ate that hours ago,” I admit.
Brooks huffs now, “What, so you’re just going to sit there while I eat mine?”
“No… I still have something I’d like to eat.”
“If you say my pussy, I swear to god, Evan—”
I chuckle, nipping at his neck. “You’ll what? Enjoy it? Scream so loud all of Ternbay Harbor will know I’ve turned you out?”
He tries to subdue a smile. “Probably.”
I give him a playful swat on the ass. “Get that beautiful ass in the bathroom, and wash. It. Off.”
He mock salutes me, before skipping back into the bathroom. I swear to fuck, I have to be the luckiest man alive. There isn’t a day that goes by that I do not fall head over heels for my husband, over and over again.
I never thought I’d be able to say that, either. I never thought I’d be able to live so authentically, so proud to gush about my talented, handsome partner to anyone and everyone. I never imagined I could be so fucking free to just be me.
It feels damn good, like a giant hug sent straight from the cosmos.
Long gone is that vicious voice in my head, the one that tortured me for so many years.
Well, Gordy’s voice, but the words that came from decades of cutting myself down.
Brooks was riding the surf right along with me the entire time I rode out that tsunami—the ebb and flow of feeling on top of the world one day, and right back at square other days.
He healed me, just like the mental health champion he is.
My phone chimes with an incoming text, while I’m waiting for Brooks to scrub his face.
Gan
Lysol wipes are in the bathroom cabinet, under the sink. Please, I beg of you, clean ALL THE SURFACES before you get back to the marina.
I quickly text him back with a middle finger emoji—yes, the only one I’ve managed to get adept with using—and ditch my phone. I’ve got more important things I need to focus on, like the sight of my fresh-faced man, all dressed up in his lingerie, looking like the perfect snack.
“Babe!” Brooks yelps, shaking me out of the slumber I so desperately needed after last night. “Babe! Wake up! We’re going to be so late!”
“Mmmph,” I groan into my pillow. “Why did you have to tell Morgan we’d do brunch with her?”
“She insisted, you know I can’t say no to her,” he presses, shaking me some more. Without unburying my face, I try to swat him off.
While Brooks has learned to grow a backbone with certain people, our kids and their partners don’t seem to be any of those certain people.
“She insisted, huh?” I ask him, finally looking up and getting blasted in the face with sunlight pouring in through the tiny windows. “She going give us news of another grandbaby now too?”
Brooks’ eyes widen, and his jaw tenses.
“Ha, not so ‘relax, it’s fiiiine’ when the tables are turned, is it?” I taunt.
“I—it would be fine,” he stammers. “Yeah, it’d be fine,” he reiterates with yet no more conviction, even after taking a deep breath.
I reach up and run my fingers through his hair. “Hey”—I tilt his chin down to look at me—“breathe. It was a joke.”
He nods, gulping.
“What would be the scariest thing about it, if she was?” I quiz him, employing one of his tactics. Seeing that look in his eye, I spin over, so I’m laying on my back, and I shove the blanket down, exposing my naked cock.
He sighs and rests his head on my lap, but instead of holding me in his mouth, he just gently strokes me—giving his hands something to do while he calms himself down.
I card my fingers through his hair while he thinks out loud.
“She and Taryn haven’t been together as long as Colton and Nikolas,” he finally murmurs.
I nod. “I worry about that too,” I agree.
“But Morgan’s got a good head on her shoulders.
Good judgement. She wouldn’t have started seeing him if she had an inkling he was still a shit-disturber like he was back in high school.
Like she said about Colton and Noodles years ago—he’s a good boy, maybe just a little misunderstood.
He’s been nothing but a perfect gentleman to her, from everything she’s told me. ”
In the years since that fateful cookout at my parents', Gordy and I have reconnected a few times, whenever I’m back in Ternbay.
He had Taryn formally apologize to Colton and Nikolas for his behavior, and then Gordy confided in me that he felt like he’d fucked up as a parent.
He’s still working on navigating through his own past trauma, but he found a different therapist to work with so that there wasn’t a conflict of interest with Brooks.
He sometimes acts a little apprehensive around me, though, which I guess I can’t fault him for. I neither pry nor do I give him the cold shoulder, however. He’s on his own healing journey, and I know better than anyone that years of torment can take a long time to recover from.