Epilogue
Aiden
Five years later
WAVES RUSH UP the golden beach of Bibione before retreating back into the Adriatic Sea. The shushing of the water kindles distant memories of running up and down the sand, giggling as my parents chased me on one of our only vacations to the Jersey Shore.
The memory is bittersweet, one of the few happy ones that includes my father. But instead of shoving it away, I embrace it, latch on to the tiny details I suppressed for so long. The warmth of the sand beneath my feet. The sweet scent of Mom’s perfume.
“Daddy!”
I turn, a big smile spreading across my face as Shaun runs across the beach as fast as his three-year-old legs will carry him. I crouch down and open my arms, a laugh escaping as my son throws himself against my chest.
“Are you enjoying the beach?” I ask as I stand up with him clinging to me like a spider monkey.
“Yup!” he replies with a big grin. “I love sand.”
I run my hand through his thick brown curls, grimacing at the granules of sand that shower down over his shoulders.
“I noticed.”
I smile when I see my wife slowly walking toward us. More like waddling, although I’ll never tell her that. Seraphina’s pregnancy with Shaun had been textbook-perfect. But this one has challenged her. Small wonder given that she’s carrying two babies this time instead of one.
“I think he’s gotten faster,” she says, her voice slightly breathless as she reaches us.
Her stomach is round even though she still has four months to go The wind catches her hair and pulls loose strands of gold across her face. Dark half-moons are etched in the fragile skin beneath her eyes.
She’s stunning. Gorgeous. Possessiveness grips me as her hand slides down to her stomach.
“And how are you?” I ask my wife as I stand with Shaun wrapped safely in my arms.
Her tired smile lights up her face as she stops in front of me. “Tired but happy.”
“You could have stayed back at the villa,” I murmur as I cup her face and run my thumb across her cheek.
Seraphina nods toward Shaun, who’s happily splashing in the waves. “And miss this?”
I grin as Shaun lands on his rear and lets out a delighted squeal. “Fair point.”
Seraphina leans into me. I pull her closer, savor the heat that burns just as bright and hot as it did that night our eyes met at the gala.
“Daddy!” Shaun squeals. “You kissed Mommy!”
I lift my head and smile down at my wife. “I did.” I turn to my son, drop a kiss on his button nose. “Because I love your mother very much.”
“I love her, too!”
“As you should.” I kiss my son once more before looking back at my wife and smiling. “She’s incredible.”
Seraphina’s smile fills me. My wife, mother of my children, and my partner.
Hawke Financial is thriving, thanks in no small part to her continued work as my head of client services.
A promotion that took over a year—and hours spent in bed—to convince her to accept.
Her attention to detail and superior communication have made our clients feel even more valued.
Clients like Senator George Randolph. He lost his first campaign, but he kept his promise on the New Field proposal.
It took a year, but we finally flipped the board and ousted Victor Hale.
Randolph nominated several candidates he trusted to the board while serving as the face of the campaign against New Field and everything they’d done to hurt the prisoners entrusted to their care.
His follow-through despite his political loss led to his being named as the face of prison reform and a successful comeback in last year’s election.
“What’s that smile for?”
I look down at my wife. “Where to start?”
Her green gaze softens. I’m grateful that while our son has inherited my hair and smile, he took after his mother and grandmother with his vivid green eyes.
“We’re pretty lucky,” she agrees as she leans into my embrace.
I drop a kiss on her forehead and glance over at the sea.
We married in Venice four years ago in the Palazzo Pisani Moretta.
Dominic and Cassian served as my groomsmen, and David did me the honor of being my best man.
A week after I proposed to Seraphina at the Met, I flew to South Carolina to visit him.
We talked for hours on the beach, sharing our mutual guilts and hardships at moving on from our pasts.
When I left, he came with me to meet Seraphina, who welcomed him with open arms. He’s even come with us to Italy a few times after I purchased a small villa just outside of Venice.
I have my brother back, thanks to the quiet patience and encouragement of my wife.
I gaze out over the water. Out of all the trips we’ve taken, this one is my favorite. Not just for visiting the place my mother dreamed of, but for finally easing the grief with happy memories.
Hawke Financial will be waiting for us when we return.
So will Grace’s Refuge, where Seraphina and I both now volunteer.
After the showcase at the Met, she offered an exclusive interview to a different magazine about why Grace’s Refuge and Cirque Obsidian were so important.
She donated her check to another women’s shelter in the city.
That it was a rival magazine of Gilded still makes me smile.
She still dances, too, performing several times a year for Obsidian.
She insists she will get me to try a fire dancing class one day, although she thankfully paused on classes during her pregnancy.
I love watching my wife dance, love seeing her increasing skill and confidence.
But the protective side of me is also very glad she’s taking a break.
I wrap an arm around Seraphina’s waist and pull her closer, my hand settling on the side of her swollen belly.
“I love you,” I murmur against her hair.
“I love you, too,” she whispers back.
Beneath my hand, the babies shift. New life waiting to burst into this world. And I know, as I stand on the beach with my wife and son in my arms and our future children beneath my fingertips, that choosing Seraphina and giving her the chance to choose me is the best decision I ever made.