EPILOGUE #2
Bryce gingerly pulls the carrier from the back seat with both hands. Ruby is sleeping like pampered royalty, looking adorable in her lavender Dolce & Gabbana dress.
“The wildflowers on her outfit,” I whisper, tracing the delicate patterns. “They match my ink.”
“Noticed that, did you?”
I brush my lips against his. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“But I love sleep just a little bit more right now,“ I mumble.
He laughs. “Fair.”
We step up to the front door, and I fish out my keys. “Also, thanks for keeping it low-key tonight. CPK, stretchy pants, and hopefully no diaper explosions.”
“You deserve it.”
“I was thinking you deserve to finally see what’s under this ugly graduation gown.”
I unlock the front door and reach for the zipper at my neck, letting the gown fall to the ground.
Bryce gulps audibly.
“Jesus, Petra. You wore the red dress?”
“What, this old thing?” I throw him a mock-innocent look. “You remember what I was wearing the first time you got me naked?”
Ruby shifts in her carrier, still blissfully asleep. I drop my voice to a whisper, then hook my thumb under one strap .
“Thought I’d remind you what this dress does to your self-control.”
My gaze drops deliberately to his pants, where evidence of my success is already showing. He lowers the baby carrier over his bulge. Cute. Like that’ll hide it.
I smirk. “Guess I still got it. Now be a good daddy,” I purr, brushing a kiss against his cheek. “Put her down for a nap, and I’ll help you take care of that. Then you can work me over until I sleep like a baby.”
As I turn the doorknob, I slide the strap off my left shoulder, ready to let my dress fall to the floor.
“Pip, hold on—”
The door swings wide.
“SURPRISE!!!”
“Waaahhhhh!”
I scramble to cover myself while Bryce magically calms our baby with his daddy superpowers.
“Surprise?” he says sheepishly as he bounces her.
I pause in the doorway, soaking it all in.
The living room is half designer showroom, half indie music festival.
Bryce brought the symmetry and muted tones, I brought the vintage flair, framed concert posters, and my record player, which has finally graduated from milk crate slumlord to walnut cabinet royalty—summa cum loud-a.
Together, it’s a magical mess. It’s our home.
But tonight, the whole place has been transformed into graduation central.
A massive Congrats Petra, you glorious badass!
banner stretches across the living room wall in bold silver letters.
Balloons in UCLA blue and gold bob from every surface.
There’s a cake the size of a suitcase covered in edible glitter—three tiers with Petra Sterling, College Graduate scrolled across the top in elegant script.
But the decorations aren’t what make my throat tight with emotion.
It’s the faces.
My living room is packed wall-to-wall with people, all here to celebrate… me.
I gape at the twinkling lights, the presents, the crowd—then at Bryce, who just shrugs like this isn’t the most romantic thing he’s ever done.
My throat goes tight. “You threw me a graduation party?”
“You deserved better than the one you got in high school. This is your do-over. And if I did it right, it will end with your lips all over me again.”
A runaway tear escapes down my cheek before I can stop it. I grab his face and kiss him hard, like I’m eighteen again. We don’t break free until Ruby squawks in protest.
“B, tonight you’re going to get the kind of thank-you that requires soundproofing.”
“Don’t ruin my magical evening with spoilers. Go greet your guests and take our little troublemaker with you.”
He transfers our baby into my arms, and she grabs a fistful of my hair like she’s claiming territory.
We step into the crowd, Ruby serving as a total conversation magnet. Everyone loses their collective shit over her genetic jackpot—my wild black hair paired with Bryce’s knockout blue eyes.
I stop dead when I spot Nigel standing at military attention near our bookshelf, Miss Muffy nestled in his arms. Fluffy, fabulous, and wearing the exact same Dolce & Gabbana wildflower dress as my kid .
“Oh my God, are you freaking kidding me?” I burst out laughing. “Miss Muffy, on behalf of my adorable offspring, I must formally ask that you remove that outfit immediately.”
Miss Von Cashmere II releases an indignant little bark, her tiny diamond collar catching the light.
“Just joking, Your Highness,” I tease. “And no worries. I’m sure my daughter will blow chunks on hers and be changed out by dinner.”
Ruby gurgles and kicks her leg out, ruffles bouncing. Miss Muffy gives her a once-over and— swear to God —nods. Just once. Like the queen acknowledging her smallest subject.
“Might I hold the little princess?” Nigel asks.
Ruby lands in the stone-faced butler’s arms, and he instantly melts into mush.
“Oh, aren’t you an angel sent from heaven!” he coos in the most ridiculous baby voice imaginable. “You’re going to come visit Uncle Nigel at the big beautiful castle, aren’t you? And then Miss Muffy will teach you how to have proper tea parties.”
“I’ll bring her after she’s mobile enough to destroy your priceless antiques,” I promise.
Sebastian Bellini appears out of nowhere, one hand pressed to his chest in mock horror.
“I know what you’re gonna say,” I cut him off. “They’re matching, and it’s a travesty.”
“Ruby was supposed to be in the cerulean blue to complement those devastating eyes,” he says indignantly, “not this ghastly lavender! This fashion crime will get her banned from babybrunch.”
“Sebastian, she’s three months old. Her biggest crime today was a blowout in the car seat. ”
He waves me off like the drama queen he is. “Bring her by next week. The new Baby Dior collection needs to be on that cherub’s face immediately. And I swear to Donatella, if you put her in something from Target again—”
“You will personally burn my entire wardrobe?” I offer sweetly.
“Exactly.”
Hana squeals, “OH MY GOSH! I missed you so much!”
I’m about to return the sentiment when I realize she’s talking to Ruby, not me.
“Hello to you too, Hana,” I laugh.
She launches into baby talk, pulling out an adorable stuffed elephant from her purse. “I brought presents from Africa! The food there was incredible. I tried mopane worms. Crunchy. Earthy. Slightly nutty. You’d love them!”
“I’d rather eat my diploma. So, are you staying in L.A. long?” I ask.
“Not a chance! I’m a woman of the world now, and I’m just getting started,” she says. “I’ve decided not to wait for love to find me—I’m going out to hunt it down. Who knows where my Mr. Right is hiding. London? Paris? Brazil? Greenland? I’ll check ’em all off my list until I find him.”
“Sooo… since you broke off the engagement, have things gotten any better with your parents?”
“They’re still livid, and they’re already plotting another arranged marriage. But I’m standing my ground. It’s true love or nothing.”
My phone buzzes at my hip, and just seeing the notification makes me smile .
GROUP CHAT : CPK FOREVER
Katie: Eating pizza in your honor! Sorry Matteo and I couldn’t get off work. Summer tours = chaos.
Me: No worries. Bryce told me he’s gonna bring us to you.
Cam : WHERE is our niece?? I require my daily dose of cheeks.
I pivot, strike a pose with Ruby—her tiny fist gripping my necklace, drool artfully decorating her chin—and snap a selfie. Sent.
Cam: ?Dios mío! Are her eyes even bluer than last week?
Katie: Stop making me jealous! Auntie Katie is stuck in Italy while you get all the baby snuggles.
Cam: A Ruby sleepover is happening with Auntie Cam the moment Reece and I get back. Mark your calendars for sexy time.
Katie: When I’m home for Christmas, full-on CPK reunion! Matching pajamas and chocolate chip peppermint cookies!
Me: I’m adding matcha to mine, but definitely! Wouldn’t miss it.
I can’t wait for the day we’re all on the same continent again. Who would’ve guessed over one hot mess summer, we’d each find our happily-ever-afters. We may be in different cities and different time zones, but our friendship is the kind that distance can’t touch .
I spot Bryce across the room deep in conversation with both our mothers. He and Judith have been slowly reconstructing their relationship. She learned real quick that her son wasn’t messing around about accepting his new stance on life.
Ruby fast-tracked the peace talks, no question.
But nothing prepared me for the day Judith—yes, that Judith—turned into a babbling, baby-talking idiot over my daughter.
It nearly broke my brain. My mom, meanwhile, has gone into full-time grandma mode.
She lives five minutes away and doubles as our emergency childcare.
There’s heavy knocking at the front door, so I hand Ruby to Bryce and wade through the partygoers to answer. My face breaks into genuine happiness when I see the familiar figure waiting on my doorstep.
Jim. Still wearing his well-worn army jacket, but his silver hair is freshly cut, and his face looks healthier and more rested than I’ve ever seen it.
“I was told there’d be cake,” he deadpans.
“Jim! You showed up,” I say, hugging him.
“Your husband delivered a personal invitation. Couldn’t ignore such fancy correspondence.”
“Come inside! There’s enough food to—”
He hands me a small wrapped package, and I tear it open to reveal a beautiful leather journal with initials embossed on the cover: P.S.
Petra Sterling.
“For when you start writing closing arguments that make grown men’s balls duck and cover.”
My throat clogs. “I love it. Thank you. Now, go grab a plate. Bryce got enough catering to feed half the neighborhood. You’d be helping me out by making a serious dent in it. ”
Jim smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Anything for a friend.”
I slip back inside and search for my husband and daughter. Ruby’s now perched like a princess on my brother’s forearm—her baby fist gripping his tie in a total power move.