Epilogue
“The burden which is well borne becomes light.” ― Ovid
ROSE
1 year later
“ T he amount of times I let you drag me somewhere without knowing where I’m going is appalling.”
Warm breath brushed the shell of my ear, sending pinpricks down my back as my eyes remained closed against the blindfold. “I might leave you like this by the time we get there.” Heat seared my stomach, making it hard to walk in front of Briggs to wherever he was guiding me. “Watch your step here, baby.”
His warm hand slid into mine. “How much further?”
He chuckled and kissed my shoulder. Being blindfolded the minute I stepped into our home wasn’t entirely new, but he usually just slung me over his shoulder—then, seconds later, I’d be either in our basement or on my back in our bed. My feet were tired from standing in the archives all day long, and I was just ready for a—“Surprise.” He lifted the blindfold, and it took everything in me not to cry.
The sniffle gave it away. “This looks…amazing.” I turned in his arms and twined my fingers behind his neck. “I thought you were studying all day?”
He smirked at me. “Princeton can wait.” His lips brushed mine teasingly. “But you can’t.” He reared back and arched a brow, guiding his thumb along my cheek where a single tear was shed. “I bet you’re tired.”
The sigh I gave wasn’t exaggerated. “I am.”
His fingers trailed up my back as he found the zipper of my dress and began pulling it down, his voice turning gruff. “Want some company?”
I bit down on my bottom lip and nodded, fighting the giddiness of having him in the tub with me. We’d bathed together almost daily, yet something about it being set up with candles, bubbles, and what looked to be a bottle of champagne beside it was making me flush.
“What’s the occasion?” I asked as he stripped me bare, taking his time around the straps of my bra. His hands smoothed over the front of my stomach as he worked his way down to where my dress had settled along my hips, being extra gentle as he guided the dress and my panties down to my feet.
His eyes met mine from where he knelt in front of me. “Do I need a reason to want to relax with my wife?”
Every time he said those last two words, my heart swelled. Our wedding had been in our backyard in a small ceremony only a few months ago, but the memories of that day made it feel like it had just happened yesterday. It had been the happiest day of my life, and Briggs loved reminding me of my new last name or the fact that I was his wife every chance he got.
Still, I eyed him suspiciously, the reflection of the tub behind me catching my attention past his shoulder. “Depends.”
“On?” His head tilted.
“Your reasoning behind this. It’s only Thursday,” I replied as I let him lift each leg, removing the fabric from my ankles.
His fingers applied gentle squeezes over my calves as he rose slowly. “Let’s get you off your feet.” Before I could answer, I was lifted and placed in the tub like I was too weak to walk myself backward the few steps into the tub myself.
I remained silent as he stripped off his sweatpants, his eyes unmoving from my body. He settled in behind me, my back arching over his front like two perfect puzzle pieces .
“I’ll never get over the way you feel against me.” Briggs swept his lips over my shoulder, working his way up the side of my neck. I gathered my hair and pushed it to the side, giving him more access. His teeth nipped along the top of my neck and onto my jaw, making me moan.
“We haven’t even had the champagne yet,” I whispered.
His nose nuzzled against my ear. “That’s not champagne, Rose baby.”
“What—” I reached over, turning it to read the label. I fought the laughter of surprise that tried to bubble to the surface. “Sparkling juice? My, you are getting wild. What has marriage done to you?”
His hands moved down my arms, splaying around my stomach as he moved them up to cup my breasts. I sucked in a sharp breath. “Sensitive here?” His squeeze released another moan, his thumbs flicking over my nipple, then the other.
I let my head fall back on his shoulder. “Mhm.” One of his hands slid down until his fingers swept over my clit. I let out another sharp breath.
“Rose,” he groaned, his fingers working me to the brink of an orgasm that surprisingly took little effort. Every part of my body felt like I was on fire, and it wasn’t from the lukewarm tub, or the way my body was so tired lately, or—
“Briggs.” I froze against him, and he stilled. His heartbeat kicked up behind me, and I moved quickly to straddle him on his lap. His face was a kind of calm I’d only started to see from him the day we said our vows, the smile along his lips subtle and completely relaxed. He looked like the happiest person on the planet .
His hands moved to my waist, his thumbs making circles along my front. “Rose,” he replied in a whisper, his jaded eyes falling to where his thumbs still stroked.
My brows furrowed as I did the mental math. “I…I’m…”
“Pregnant?” he asked, his smile growing. “Yes.”
“How’d you know?”
His brow lifted. “I know my wife’s body.” He glanced at the cabinet where I kept my birth control. Or, used to keep it. I’d stopped taking it the night of our wedding. Briggs talked about a family often, and honestly, I was surprised he hadn’t thrown my pills out himself with how often he came inside me, then pushed his cum back in. The plug and the not-so-subtle hints about watching me grow his children with my body were almost comical at first, but when I realized how serious he was about it, I couldn’t deny I wanted the same thing.
“I thought it would take longer,” I replied honestly, staring down at my stomach. My eyes fluttered up to meet his, the green in them seemingly brighter. More clear.
“Are you happy?” His question had a hint of concern.
I quickly pressed my hands flat to his jaw, holding his gaze with my own. “I love you. How could I not be happy about this?” A wave of nausea rolled over me, and I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth. “But I think I’m going to be sick.”
He reached back and pulled a wastebasket from behind the tub. “I wasn’t sure if that had started yet or not. My mom said she threw up for months.” I grabbed onto it and took deep breaths, urging it to go away as he rubbed circles along the small of my spine. “She said to tell you that ginger helps.” I managed to fight past it, and when I pulled my head from the trash bin, he had a bag of ginger chews in his hand. “She also may have dropped some off for you.”
“You told her?”
“Needed advice. I haven’t been around kids…ever.” His jaw worked. Their relationship wasn’t the best, but after spending more time with my grandparents, he decided he wanted to try to let her back in. As for me? Let’s just say I wasn’t the best daughter-in-law. “I hope that’s okay with you.”
“Okay?” I eyed the ginger chews over the rim of the bin I was trying not to puke in. It was hard to feel anything other than the burning in my throat. “Yeah. I get it.” I sighed deeply into the can before pulling away from it. “I’ll be fine.”
My husband eyed me suspiciously—the same eyes he gave me when he knew I was lying because as much as I didn’t want to think about it, I definitely was. “I’m sure you’ll let me know how you really feel about it later.” He carefully took the bin from me and put it back down on the floor. “Better?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I think so. I think I just got excited and—” I pressed my hand to my mouth again, this time lurching up and running for the toilet. The hair that fell over my shoulders and forehead was lifted, the gentle pulls as I released my lunch to the toilet easing the pit in my stomach. When I was done, he carried me to the sink and gave me mouthwash, wrapping me in a towel as I swished it in my mouth and spit it back out. “She said months? Of this? ”
He rolled his lips in and nodded, brushing a few strands of my hair back that had escaped the ponytail he made. “I’m sorry, baby. Turns out, Andrews’ babies are strong little fighters. Maybe this means we’ll have twins.” He laughed, whereas I felt all the color leech from my face. “Relax, Rose. Breathe.”
I scowled. “Says the man who just gets to watch me blow up like a balloon and puke everywhere.” I looked at the taut lines of his body, the dips between each muscle on his stomach, and then glared down at mine. “Pregnancy already isn’t fair.”
His laugh was irritating but still made my heart hammer all the same for him. “I personally can’t wait to see you get bigger with our baby.” My eyes skated to his belly button, where the tip of his cock bobbed, his erection unwavering even after all the puke.
“You say that now,” I said pointedly. “You might—”
His hand cupped my jaw, “I will say that always .” He kissed me sweetly, then pulled back. “I hope the symptoms don’t last that long and you end up enjoying being pregnant because I don’t want to stop with one.” His eyes fell to my stomach, visible through the slit in the towel. “Or two.”
I smacked the back of my hand to his chest. “One. There’s only one in there.”
He bit down on his lip. “Did I tell you just how many sets of twins there have been on the Andrews side?”
My mouth slackened. I only knew about him and Beck. “No.”
His arms planted down on either side of me as he leaned in closer. “Let’s just say the chances of there being two in there are higher than the chances of one.” He was all smiles when he pulled back, and right as I opened my mouth to give a smart-ass retort about him not being a doctor but a businessman and writer, he picked me up and tossed me over his shoulder, slapping my ass roughly.
“I could always keep going, you know.” The towel fell from my body and onto the bed just before he surged into me, sealing his lips to mine as I cried out. I finally found enough breath to tell him it didn’t work like that, but he didn’t care. Briggs pushed my knee up toward my ribs, taking me deeper, driving my back into the mattress with an unrelenting pace and spilling into me the moment my orgasm swept over me in heady waves. He stayed inside me as our breaths came out heavy between us, his elbows supporting him above me so as not to crush my body, being extra careful along my abdomen.
“Make a deal with me,” he said, brushing his lips over the hypersensitive skin under my ear.
“What is it?”
“If it’s twins, which I know it is, you have to agree to more.”
My brows pinched together. “So, if it’s just one?”
He laughed. “You also have to agree to more.”
My eyes widened. “How many children do you want, exactly?”
He bent down, taking my nipple in his mouth as his eyes stayed trained on mine. My back arched toward him, my body humming with renewed desire already. “Dean said you’d be horny.”
“How many people did you tell?” I whisper-shouted.
He smirked. “Jasmine also said congratulations and your grandparents will be here tomorrow to see you and bring you the Jeep. He says it’s done.” My face heated as he continued to suck and flick his tongue, then moved to take the other nipple into his mouth. “And my answer to your questions is however many you give me, baby.”
brIGGS
4 years later
Three large bouquets of the brightest red roses I could find filled my vision, two sets of tiny hands on unsteady feet claiming two of those bouquets while the last was held by my wife, who had to keep chasing after the first two that kept swaying with the spring breeze. The hill would be tough to climb for Iris and Aster, but at least one bouquet would be laid on the grass before we had to tackle that.
Iris’ platinum curls bounced on her shoulders as she burst toward the tombstone while Aster slowed to tug on Rose’s dress. The twins had just turned three years old, and both already had contrasting personalities. I grinned as I reached my wife, both of us watching as Aster darted to meet up with her rowdy sister once she realized how far ahead she’d gone, her mouth running just as fast as her legs.
“She’s trouble,” Rose huffed on a laugh, exhaustion clear in her voice as she looked at Iris across the field.
“She’s like her uncle,” I quipped. “He was just like that, and it’s like she knows.” Sure enough, Iris was sitting on the grass, collecting the few wildflowers that grew around Beck’s grave as Aster approached her, attitude spilling from her like a miniature version of her mother.
Rose wrapped her arms around me from my side while I settled my arm over her shoulder, my other hand falling to rest on the rounded bump that was making her more exhausted than usual. I really wasn’t kidding about the number of twins that filled my family tree, and while Rose took it as a joke the first time I told her, I decided to keep quiet about bringing that up again a few days ago when we found out we were expecting another set of twins.
We hadn’t told the girls they were going to get two brothers later this year, but Aster had already caught on—if the one-sided conversation she was now having with her uncle was any indication. Iris took off the moment we reached the grave, taking the bouquets from both her sister and Rose and running them up the hill toward her grandparents.
I remember thinking they’d be rolling over in their graves if they knew about Rose and me. If they knew what I felt for her after turning into someone I believed was unworthy of her affection. But as the sun broke through the clouds while Iris laid the bouquets carefully down in front of each tombstone, I couldn’t help but feel differently .
Maybe I wasn’t always the right person for their daughter. But through it all, we chose each other. Through better or worse, we were there for each other. And I’d live every day, for the rest of my days, loving my Rose.
Thank you so much for reading My Rose!