Epilogue 1
LEONARDO
Two years later…
I stood outside the community hall, taking a breather as I readjusted my hold, ensuring my oversized onesie didn’t smother the cake.
We were celebrating Gabriella’s fifty-fourth birthday, and based on the sounds of festive, echoing screams, the party was in full swing.
With all the organised chaos, my wife had forgotten about the chocolate cake she had ordered from a couple of towns over, sending me on a last-minute errand, hence my fashionably late arrival.
Originally, she requested something low-key, however, as more people were added to the invite list, I knew the little shindig was going to be an all-out party. What I hadn’t anticipated was the dress-up theme.
I wiggled in the uncomfortable, cheap, fabric trying to relieve the itch, since my hands were occupied.
I’d barely worn the damn thing for fifteen minutes, and I swore I was getting a rash.
But my wife had picked the costume out specifically, so there was no way I wasn’t going to wear it.
I was willing to do anything to make her birthday a success, including donning that ridiculous rodent’s suit.
It felt like a lifetime ago that we were in such a low place, our marriage tethering on collapse, my body recovering from near death, our family wading through the aftermath of trauma.
Hell, sometimes, we were still thrust back into those debilitating days of sorrow and uncertainty. But as time moved on, those unpredictable triggers became less and less frequent. Our lives steadily pushed out the black to make room for a brighter future.
None of it was easy. My physical recovery initially had some setbacks due to putting all my energy into everything else. My concern primarily lay with my wife and kids, ensuring they were receiving all the help they could get.
Gabriella was adamant that she never wanted to return to our home, where she watched me bleed out on the floorboards. I held the same sentiment, hence our immediate departure from the place that held so much pain. And let it remain and die there.
The task was mammoth, and at times, felt impossible. However, anxiety had become an ever-present thief, stealing my sleep. I didn’t wallow, and took advantage of the available extra hours to get more done, neglecting my own needs to prioritise those of my family. I held no regrets.
Though, as predicted, that soon took a toll on my healing, causing me to rebound into hospital due to infection, which sparked my wife’s anger and concern.
Gabriella already held immense responsibility, so I refused to be another burden on top of the rest. Even so, with my reluctance to pull back, reinforcements were called, my stubborn nature conjuring the chief of petty and cunning herself, Daisy.
My wife’s best friend was petite and could play the angelic woman well, but you’d be a fool to let that sway you. Daisy was legitimately the only person I was scared of, and proved her strength by strong-arming me back into my hospital bed, to then take over Operation Relocation.
In the next six months, there was great change.
Rehab was consistent, intensive therapy was a must and open communication was encouraged.
Gabriella wanted to move out of the city and chose the most readily available option to be near Austin.
We planned on the small town being a temporary abode, which soon became permanent as we fell in love with the lifestyle.
Acacia Falls was a supportive, tight-knit community that rallied around us in our darkest moments.
Angelina and Celeste quickly adjusted to their new surroundings, happy to be closer to their brother.
And the Thornes welcomed us into their extended family, fostering a positive environment for all involved.
Gabriella had also found a close companion in Daisy’s friend, some bigwig lawyer named Stella.
They’d fast become the three musketeers, raising havoc in all their men’s lives—not that we ever complained.
If anything, I was thankful for the connection as those strong, independent women became a solid support system for my wife. For that alone, I was truly thankful.
It was a year later, on a spring evening, that Gabriella randomly turned to me and said, “I feel safe here, Leo. This community has become a protective factor for me, a sense of security I wasn’t expecting. I want to stay. Do you?”
She had given me a precious gift that night. Recovery was hard work, and sometimes took everything out of us. But with that statement, my wife had planted the seed of newfound hope.
“I’ll stay wherever you are, darling,” I said, my voice catching.
“But?”
“But,” I said, skirting my fingertips against her hairline, “I want to be your safe place again, Ella. I want you to trust me again. I want you to surrender your fears to me so I can protect you against them. Give me everything, and I’ll give you everything in return.”
Gabriella returned my locked gaze, freely permitting me access to her underlying emotions. “You nearly died for us, Leo. I already know you would sacrifice everything.”
“For us, for you,” I said, pressing forward to bring her lips to mine. Each word rang with truth as I meant it with the entirety of my soul. In the past, I’d recklessly hurt my wife. I vowed that it would never happen again.
The air shifted around me, pulling me back to the present.
I turned to catch Curtis, Stella’s husband, approaching with a pinata hanging from one hand. My eyes widened on his mouse costume—the same as mine, just a different shade of grey.
“Nice choice,” I said.
“Stella’s idea. Fucking uncomfortable though,” he said, scratching the inside of his collar.
A wolf whistle cut through the air as we were soon joined by Dylan, Daisy’s partner, and Curtis’ father-in-law—yeah, it’s complicated.
“Looking good, boys,” he said, broad smile popping beneath the furry incisors poking out of his black mouse onesie. “Dais messaged me to hurry up with the speaker. Ready?”
Curtis and I grumbled, following Dylan, who swaggered into the hall carting a big boombox behind him.
As soon as we entered the common room, realisation struck hard. Of course we were the only ones conned into dressing up.
A memory resurfaced of the moment Gabriella had requested I wear the outfit. “For the kids,” she’d said. Though I swear I saw a flicker of guile in her eyes—her two besties were obviously rubbing off on her.
Oh, and look at that, there they are now.
Gabriella, Daisy and Stella were front and centre, heads bowed together, probably in the throes of planning world domination.
My theory was soon proven correct as the three witches shifted their gazes towards us, the rest of the party following suit, all staring at the idiot men imitating the three blind mice.
The place fell silent as everyone paused with initial shock, then amusement.
Truly, we should have known better.
Curtis chuckled underneath his breath, Dylan released a raucous laugh and I merely raised a brow at my wife.
Right on cue, our women fell over themselves in laughter, cackling in amusement at our ridiculous show. We were soon rushed by the kids climbing and pulling on our furry tails and ears.
I jumped into character and decided to play the part, squeals and giggles permeating the space with contagious excitement.
It was in that moment that my stare locked with emerald-green, utter joy reflecting brightly in those two pure gems.
A conspiratory smile pulled up the side of my mouth as I held my wife’s attention across the room. We were enveloped in the presence of those who loved us, providing an undeniable warmth and calm peace we never thought possible.
Unable to deny her touch any longer, I took chase and soon caught Gabriella between my oversized paws, pulling her flush against my chest. I proceeded to sway, ignoring our surroundings in favour of keeping my wife close, which she didn’t seem to mind.
I bowed my head until my lips met the shell of her ear and whispered, “Everything’s going to be okay, my darling.”
My birthday girl sighed and laid a cheek on my shoulder. “Yes, I think it is, husband.”
Gabriella had been through so much. She deserved a future full of laughter, joy and love. And that’s exactly what I would strive to give her every single day for the rest of my life.