OZZY
TWO YEARS LATER
Reunited, and it feels so good.
After six months, we’re seeing Pepper and Lex, and with some serious convincing, Max is here, too.
It’s their wedding, and I’m the best man, with Fallon serving as the maid of honor.
The last time we saw them was for the birth of their daughter, touching down in central Florida for the special occasion.
We were appointed as the Godparents to baby Vivianne, and while we’re here, she’ll be baptized.
She’s the cutest thing, with her light blonde hair and blue eyes shining in the light, and Fallon cannot get enough of the precious girl, always having her in her arms whenever we’re nearby.
Oliver is never far, and at this point, I’m happy he’s able to mingle with people he knows other than us.
I love him to death, and our bond has only strengthened since we began traveling the world together, but fuck , sometimes I need a break.
Tonight, we're attending their rehearsal dinner, and we’re on Vivi duty, keeping the baby entertained, fed, and comfortable while everyone practices for the big ceremony tomorrow.
Lex beams with pride every time he looks at his daughter, like everything makes sense now that she’s here, and Pepper is no different.
The loud, weird, slightly insane girl I once knew has been replaced with a woman I couldn’t be happier to call my technical sister-in-law.
She has made Vivi her world, and it’s evident by how big that baby smiles the second she hears her mother’s voice.
Parenthood has done wonders for both of them, and I can’t wait to help make their wedding weekend absolutely perfect.
In true Pepper fashion, the accent color is hot pink, and we’re drowning in it as we sit at the head table.
Even Fallon’s dress is pink, and although she bitched about it the entire time we got it fitted, she looks fucking incredible in the lacy garment. That, plus the baby on her hip, has me completely weak in the knees.
Her hair has grown out, almost touching her waist, but the signature lilac shade hasn’t changed, and she’s still the most perfect woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.
“Go see Uncle Ozzy, Princess. Auntie has to go potty, okay? I’ll be right back, I promise,” she coos, passing the baby to me as she excuses herself from the table.
I can’t help myself, keeping an eye on her as she crosses the floor and not blinking until she’s safe in the ladies room.
Vivi gurgles, drool spitting from her tiny lips, but once I start bouncing her on my knee she begins to laugh, and it’s the purest sound I’ve ever heard.
This little girl won the lottery with her parents, and she’s so innocent, only aware of the good things in life.
My only wish is that she stays this way as long as possible, never knowing an ounce of pain until it’s completely necessary.
“You look good with a baby.” Oliver laughs, holding his hands out for his turn with the girl of honor.
“Be gentle with her,” I advise, but he just shakes his head, ignoring me as he turns on the baby voice, speaking to Vivi with remarkable enthusiasm.
The three of us have lived to the fullest since we abandoned the States, finding the sweetest corners of the world to explore and call home until we wanted new scenery.
Our favorite trip is a toss up, but Jamaica, Cancun, and the ten-day cruise we took through the Bahamas are the ones we can always agree on being the best.
We stay where it’s warm and the sand isn’t too far away, becoming bonafide beach bums, fully immersing ourselves into different cultures.
Now, the only thing that would make traveling better is if Olly could find a woman, someone to entertain him on the days where Fallon and I need a little break from him.
Trust me, we are actively searching, but so far, nobody has made the cut.
I stride across the room, following the same path that Fallon took, my nerves growing as I realize she’s been in the restroom for a while now.
The few times we’ve come back to the States always ignite anxiousness in my chest, the fear tightening its grip until I realize there’s no threat, or until we board another plane.
On those tropical islands we’re nobodies, tourists, but here, we’re many things, and I’m always afraid of being around for too long.
It’s already been three days, the longest we’ve stayed in the country since we left two years ago, and I’m almost waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“Bambi? You okay?” I ask, tapping on the wooden door before pushing it open.
“Yeah … uh, I’m okay. Come in!” She shouts, and I slowly make my way into the ladies room, noticing that we’re alone and the two stalls are empty.
“What’s the matter? I thought you’d be stuck to Vivi all night,” I tease, wrapping my arms around her waist, waiting for her gaze to meet mine in the mirror.
It doesn’t though, and I notice how sad she looks as she stares down at her hands inside the sink.
“Vivi is why I’m here, actually,” she chuckles, but it sounds forced, like something is tugging at her, but she can’t find the words.
“Can I see what you’re holding?” I ask, attempting to help her through whatever’s got her stuck.
If there's one thing I’ve learned, it’s that Fallon needs her space sometimes, but in other instances like these, she needs a gentle switch in power, and that’s where I come in.
We’ve taken the time to know each other so well that sometimes it seems like we live inside each other’s minds, and this moment is no different.
“Ozzy, we’re pregnant,” she whispers, her eyes finally meeting mine in the mirror as she holds up a digital pregnancy test.
Sure enough, the word is clearly spelt out, and it confirms that we’re having a baby of our own.
A million things run through my mind, but all I can do is spin Fallon until she’s facing me, a smile on my face that’s so big, it's beginning to hurt my cheeks.
“You’re pregnant?”
“I think so,” she breathes, her eyes reluctantly meeting mine.
We’ve been through this before, had this moment where we thought it’d finally be our turn to have what we missed out on all those years ago, but that didn’t turn out how we expected, and the depression that followed nearly killed her.
I can’t help but be excited, yet I see her hesitation and have to tone it down, empathizing with her biggest fears.
“It’s our time,” I say softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead, but I feel her body shaking against mine, the fear she carries radiating off her so strongly that I’m afraid she’ll break.
“I can’t lose another one, Ozzy. I can’t … I want to be a mother in this universe,” she cries, clinging to my shirt like she’ll collapse if her fingers let up just slightly.
I’m holding her up, keeping her feet on the ground, but her pain is heavy, so I lean her back, taking a second to look into those beautiful dark eyes before I drop my hands to her belly.
It’s small again, not as big as the last time we went through this, but even so, I drop to my knees.
“Hi, Son. You hang onto Mommy, okay? We kind of need you,” I say softly, and she sighs, her breath ragged as I can feel her body beginning to sob.
Having a stillborn daughter – Valentina, named after the holiday she was conceived on – at twenty-two weeks was devastating, something that’s taken almost a year to heal from, but the fact that she’s pregnant again is an incredible sign, and I have the utmost confidence that we’ll make it to the end this time.
“I can’t do this again,” she cries, slipping to the floor with me, her arms latching around my neck.
When we first found out, we were over the moon. We tracked the baby’s growth, made plans for a nursery, and she did everything right to ensure she had a safe pregnancy.
It was nothing we did the doctors had said, but it doesn’t help the guilt we both felt. We heard that little heartbeat, saw pictures during the ultrasound, picked out her name, and decorated her bedroom, but we didn’t get to take her home.
It’s a cruel punishment that I wouldn’t wish upon anyone.
“It’ll be different this time, Fallon. We’re having a baby, and I know you don’t want to get your hopes up, but I do. I want to enjoy every second just like we did before, okay? Right now, we have to get back out there, but tonight, we’re going to talk until we can’t anymore, is that alright?”
“I just need a minute, then yes. You’re excited?” She asks, her mascara-stained eyes looking up into mine, holding all the hope in the world in her dark irises.
“We’re having a baby, Fallon Mariano. Nothing is more exciting than that,” I tell her, and just slightly, I see that glow in her eyes, like maybe she’ll try to believe in my words.
“Fuck, we need to get back to Vivi,” she panics, tossing the pregnancy test into the trash and washing her hands quickly.
I wrap my arm around her, imagining how beautiful she’ll look once she begins to show again, and I can’t help the reaction in my dress pants.
“Stop imagining me pregnant! Jesus Christ, we’re on church property,” she whispers, her smile finally returning as she manages to read my mind.
“I can’t help it, Bambi. You’re growing our baby, and there’s nothing – absolutely nothing – fucking sexier than that,” I confess, and she rolls her eyes, but I catch the moment her cheeks flush, her mind wandering to places that mine has already been.
For the rest of the night we play with our Goddaughter, mingle with Max, and steal moments with the bride and groom.
It sucks not being with them through all these changes, but we’re here for the big moments, and that’s what truly keeps us all glued together.
Tomorrow, we’ll stand beside them as they tie the knot, our speeches highlighting the fact that they’re complete opposites, yet absolutely perfect for each other.
All we have to do is make it through one more day and we’ll be free again.
There’s no more commitments tying us down and we can spend this pregnancy back at the home we bought, preparing for a baby that I’m certain will come home this time.
* * *
A pounding on the door wakes me up, my fight or flight instincts kicking in, and instantly I jump to protect Fallon from whatever danger could be on the other side.
Slowly, I reach for the weapon on the nightstand while she scoots behind me, and making her way to the floor behind the mattress.
I’m in nothing but boxers, but I’d gladly put a bullet in someone who dares to come at my family, my woman, and most importantly, my baby.
I peer through the peephole, relieved to see it’s just Max, and I quickly remove the chain, opening the door to let him in.
“What the fuck, Max? It’s barely daylight,” I protest but he shakes his head, walking straight to our shitty hotel TV, fiddling with the remote until he lands on a news station.
It’s national, so unless the President has been assassinated I don’t understand what is so urgent, not until I see a grainy video appear on the screen, and by this time, Fallon has slipped into my clothes, joining me on the bed.
“The Federal Investigation into Ali Amos continues, with trafficking charges spanning from Mexico to the border of Canada, where he was detained.
The son of highly regarded stock broker, Aaron Amos, who was found murdered in his Florida mansion two years ago, has allowed us into his home, offering surveillance footage from the night his father was killed.
For the first time in two years, there’s finally a suspect, and ABC74 has the exclusive footage of the woman who was behind one of the most silent, quiet, and ruthless murders in the state of Florida.”
My mouth goes dry as the video plays on the television, exact footage of us, in his office, where Fallon executed Mr. A.
He was kneeled on the carpet, tied up and completely a prisoner when she shot him, and even so, there’s no paper trail of the things he did to us.
She looks like a modern Judas, and there’s no doubt in my mind that we need to go .
The TV screen now has her photo blown up, with the words ‘ armed and extremely dangerous ’ flashing along the bottom of the ticker.
“How? How is there a video, Lex?” I ask, pacing the room like a caged animal.
“I don’t know! It’s angled from the desk, he must’ve had a hidden camera somewhere in the room.”
I know it’s not his fault, but fuck, this is such a blindside.
We’ve lived for two years without even thinking of that night, and now, our lives are completely flipped again, this time with dire consequences.
That’s not all, though, the footage of her stabbing Raz in the neck has also surfaced, and within two hours Fallon has gone from suspect, to wanted murderer, every agency hunting her down as we try to gather our things and flee the country.
Luckily, Lex kept all of our old passports, and we travel light as it is.
Everyone is running around, scrambling to get the three of us packed, loaded into a car, and on the next flight out of here.
Realistically, we can make it to the closest airport, through gates, and past security in about two hours, and according to the schedule, that would put us on a flight to Spain.
Fourteen hours, one layover, and it’s perfect.
“Book it, Oliver. I don’t care, just get us three seats on that fucking plane!” I yell, not worried about the particulars.
I knock lightly on the bathroom door, listening as Fallon’s morning sickness is taking center stage at the worst possible timing.
“Come in,” she coughs, flushing the toilet as I crack the door open.
“You okay? Need any crackers? I don’t have your favorites, but these should do,” I offer, holding up a small bag they had in the lobby.
“No, I’m alright. I need to do this.” She stares at her reflection in the mirror, a certain sadness in her eyes, and my heart is breaking for her.
The lilac hair was her way of breaking free from her stepfather, painting over the natural blonde hair she was born with, but now, she has to change it.
In the video of Mr. A.’s murder, her hair was covered, but not in the footage from when she stabbed Raz. It was free-flowing, recognizable as hell, and if we have any hope of escaping, she has to dye it.
The box of light brown is sitting on the counter, the only color I could find from the drugstore that she’d go for, and I help her mix the chemicals, splitting her hair into parts as she instructs.
Slow tears roll down her cheeks, and I gently kiss her neck, apologizing countless times, knowing how much this hurts.
It’s just a hair color, but it’s her identity, one she created all on her own, and I hate seeing it covered up with something so basic.
“We’ll fix it, I promise,” I remind her, and she nods, but I know it’s not helping.
Since we saw the news, she’s been in a daze, the whole situation coming as a mind fuck to us all, but the pregnancy hormones amplify everything.
She’s emotional, switching from raging anger to uncontrollable sobbing at an alarming pace, but I do my best to keep up and console her.
She’s upset that we’re missing the wedding, ruining Lex and Pepper’s day by fleeing before they can say their vows, and this is likely the last time we’ll see them.
I’m in over my head, so I call for backup, and right on cue, she arrives.
“Fal? It’s me,” Pepper calls from the other side of the door, slowly opening it and slipping into the small room with us.
“I’m so sorry, Pep. We’re destroying your big day,” Fallon cries, but Pepper isn’t having any of it.
“No, you’re not. We’re getting married whether there’s a thousand people there, or just us and a pastor, alright? I promise, your safety is more important to me.”
“I’m not what they’re saying, you know that right? I only did what I did because they were going to kill us, can’t I just explain that?” Fallon sobs, sinking onto the floor again, and Pepper’s eyes widen, absolutely shocked at the sight.
I’m afraid I may have to drag her through the airport at this rate because time is ticking, and we’re literally racing against a clock.
“Bambi, listen to me. You have the purest heart, and the most gentle soul, but men in suits with badges don’t care about that. You are wanted for murder, and we have to get out of here before you spend your life in prison, do you understand me?”
My tone is harsh, much more stern than I usually talk to her, but I need to get through that stubborn little mind of hers.
“Okay, Ozzy, okay.” I lift her off the floor, and she hugs Pepper again, quickly jumping in the shower to rinse the dye.
We’ve got about ten minutes until the car is here, and when I exit the bathroom, Max and Lex have all our bags packed with the passports ready.
Oliver is holding baby Vivi, saying his goodbyes to her.
“Thank you, both of you. This is probably the last time we’ll talk for a while,” I say somberly, shifting the energy in the room once again.
“We’ll use the website, okay? Do you remember it?” Lex reminds me, and it takes a minute but our emergency SOS back up plan eventually comes to me.
“European GoldFinch, right?” I jot it down as Lex nods, slipping the paper in my wallet.
Fallon steps out of the bathroom, her wet hair tossed into a messy bun while she opts for comfort in my sweatpants and old T-shirt.
The goodbyes begin, and when Fallon takes Vivi in her arms, she walks over to the window, whispering as she points to the sky.
“If you ever miss Auntie all you have to do is look at the stars, and you’ll know I’m never too far away, okay my princess? I love you,” she says softly, kissing the baby one last time as she passes her back to Pepper.
“I’ll erase your tracks until you get to the airport, from there … you’re on your own,” Lex warns, but he’s already done so much for us.
“Come on, it’s your wedding day. Go do your makeup or something,” I joke, but he insists.
“I’m not doing anything until we know you guys made it, and that’s final,” he says, and I put my hands up in defense.
“The car is downstairs,” Oliver whispers, taking one last look at everyone before he rolls his suitcase down to the lobby.
“You’re going to be a beautiful bride, Pepper. Congratulations to both of you,” Fallon says softly, kissing Lex and Pepper on the cheek one last time.
Before, there was always ‘ see you next time ’ but now it’s really goodbye, and that’s way harder than I expected.
I’ll likely never see these people again, that baby was supposed to be our Goddaughter, and we were always going to come back for the big stuff.
We’re now in exile, being forced away from the only family we’ve ever known, and it’s weighing on me heavily as we take the cab ride to the airport.
“Like an oath,” Fallon whispers, lacing her fingers through mine, her touch instantly relieving the spinning thoughts in my mind.
“I love you, you know that right?”
“It’s the only thing I’m certain of.” She smiles, resting her head on my shoulder.
We’re in for a long trip, and I know her morning sickness will be tough to manage, but she’s the strongest woman I know.
After we lost Valentina, she was broken, barely recognizable as her body went through all the postpartum hormones, with no baby.
It took about a week for her milk supply to dry up and once it did, she didn’t get out of bed for two weeks.
Now, after some serious soul-searching she’s back to her old self, not letting the pain and loss rust her sparkle.
She’s still grieving, and always will be, but she’s so resilient, finally choosing to take comfort in the idea that Angel has someone to play with.
Following tradition, there’s a V carved into us both, something we just recently did when she felt that she could emotionally handle it.
We both cried the rest of the night, the euphoria we used to chase replaced by a deep sadness that never seems like it’ll go away.
It’s been hard on me too, I lost twenty pounds from not eating, and I was stuck in bed beside her while we spent days sobbing, asking why this happened to us, but watching her deteriorate was the most difficult part of the process.
Seeing the life slowly come back into her eyes is what’s propelling me forward and keeping air in my lungs.
She doesn’t want to get excited for this baby, but I’m not going to let what we lost keep us from celebrating what’s to come.
Pregnancy is a miracle, and we don’t take it for granted for one second.
We may be fleeing the country as fugitives, but we’re meant to be parents, and I won’t give up on that dream.
It’s always been ours, and it’ll become a reality one day.