Epilogue
Gio
I step out onto the balcony and take a deep breath of the fresh sea air.
I raise the coffee cup to my lips and sip the fresh, strong French coffee as the city unfolds in front of me.
Duke is curled up in the corner under the small table, dozing in the morning breeze.
He’s gotten lazier since we moved, just like a proper French dog.
It’s a beautiful town, Saint-Tropez. Situated in the south of France between Cannes and Marseille, it’s a small place that’s not jam-packed with tourists. It’s absolutely breathtaking, just like most of southern France, with gorgeous pastel-colored homes and a sprawling view of a deep blue ocean.
Grace picked it out. Out of everywhere in the world, she wanted to come here.
It’s our home now. And she loves it. That’s all that matters to me.
I don’t remember how long it's been. Two months, maybe three. Time doesn’t really matter anymore.
Life is slow in Saint Tropez, which is exactly what I wanted.
I don’t kill anymore. Ever since leaving Chicago, the cravings disappeared. The darkness never appears anymore, not even in my worst moments.
I take another deep breath, feeling calm and content for the first time ever.
I turn around and look into our bedroom. Grace props herself up on one elbow, smiling at me. The breeze from the open doors blows her hair out of her face. She’s goddamn beautiful. I’m a lucky man.
“You’re up early,” she says with a yawn.
I walk in and kiss her gently on the lips. “I wanted to get your breakfast together.”
“You’re spoiling me.” She laughs.
I shrug, smiling. “You’re damn right I am. You’re my princess.”
“What’s on the agenda for today then?” she asks, stretching her arms above her head.
“Whatever you want. I thought we might walk down to the market, get something for lunch and dinner, and then walk along the beach. Maybe stop for a drink somewhere.”
“So, what we did yesterday?”
I grin. “Exactly. I also thought we could visit that little private outcropping of rocks… “
She laughs. “You dirty man. You’re just trying to get into my panties again.” She rests her head on the pillow and looks up at me as though she’s innocent. She’s just as dirty as I am. And she knows it.
“Damn right I am.” I kiss her rough on the lips as the memory of fucking her on that public beach the day before comes back to me.
After everything went down, I picked up Grace and Duke from my house, packed some bags, and we left that night. We drove around the States for a while, living off my cash, until one day we met a guy that made fake passports in Philadelphia.
From there, we flew into London. We traveled around there for a while before heading into Germany. We hit up Italy, Spain, northern France, and finally settled in Saint-Tropez.
I ended up buying this apartment, and for the first time since we left my house, we settled into a normal daily life.
Well, normal enough. I still have a shitload of money saved up, which means neither of us are going to have to work for a very long time. If ever.
For her part, I can tell Grace is the happiest she’s ever been. I made sure she got to visit everything she wanted and see and do everything possible. She had so many experiences to catch up on, and I loved watching her find herself in the world.
She’s free. She’s my princess, but she’s free. She can leave at any time if she wants, but I know she never will.
Not when we’re so stupid happy together. Not when it feels like we finally make each other complete, and the horrors of our past no longer matter.
I’m going to treat her like the princess she is for the rest of her life. She’ll never work a day in her life if she doesn’t want to. Or she can do any job she wants. It doesn't matter to me, so long as she spoiled, pampered, and happy.
That’s my life now, and it’s more fulfilling than anything else. We eat, sleep, fuck, and I take care of her. That’s the way life should be.
“You shouldn’t let me sleep in,” she says finally, sitting up and taking a look around the room.
“You need rest now. You know that.”
She sighs. “Just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean I’m incapacitated.”
I laugh. “Sure it does. You have to let me take care of you.”
“You already do.” The soft smile that plays on her lips makes my heart clench.
I glance down at the ring on her finger.
The wedding ceremony happened in Spain at an ancient church on the coast. We didn’t speak a word of Spanish, but it was beautiful and perfect and most importantly, it made her happy.
One look at the church, and she knew she wanted it to happen there. So I made it happen.
She sighs and stretches again. I walk over to the table and pour her some orange juice. She accepts the glass gratefully.
“You’re still going to love me when I’m big and fat, right?”
I smirk at her. “You’ll never be big and fat.”
“Correct answer.”
I crawl into bed next to her and kiss her neck. “You know, princess, we could always stay in.”
“Oh, can we?” She smiles at me, a little mischievous. “And why would we do that?”
“You need your rest.”
“You’re not going to let me rest, and you know it.”
“True. I’m a bad liar.”
She laughs at my joke, and sets the orange juice down on the nightstand. I take my chance to crawl on top of her.
I kiss her full and deep, joy welling up inside of me. Soon, we’ll be a proper family. I’ll raise my son to love and respect people, and I won’t let him have the life we had.
All that matters is that Grace can find herself and we can live together, peacefully, loving, a family in paradise. Her French is wonderful, and I’m getting better. Soon we’ll be proper French citizens with little French babies.
I never imagined that in my whole life. But I couldn’t be happier.
With Grace and our baby, I’m more content than I could possibly imagine. The ocean stretches out into the distance and I have her, my princess, my love, the only thing that keeps me going. I’ll take care of her until my heart stops beating, and forever after that.