Epilogue
THREE YEARS LATER
My first year in therapy, I swear I cried every session. It happened a lot less frequently these days, and it was always a relief to get to the end of an hour and feel lighter as opposed to emotionally ravaged and exhausted.
“I think this bi-weekly schedule is going well,” said Dr. Redford as she set aside her tablet and pen. “I’d like to continue with this cadence for the next couple of months. We’ll discuss your progress and if we need to make any further adjustments then. Sound good?”
I nodded, drawing in a deep breath as I rested my hands on my bare knees. “Yeah. Sounds good.”
Dr. Jennifer Redford was exceptional at her job.
It wasn’t simply that she was a good listener.
I went through two other therapists who were good listeners but not at all helpful before I found her.
We’d been seeing each other for nearly two and a half years, and I’d come to trust her in ways that changed my life.
“Ali, before you go—can I ask one more question?” she inquired as she stood.
She was a tall, slender woman with curly, dark brown hair streaked with gray.
I wondered if it was the burden of patients like me who caused her hair to lose its pigment.
She couldn’t have been much older than Ben.
Then again, he was starting to sprout some gray hairs that had me convinced he was only going to get hotter the older he got.
I grabbed my purse as I joined her on my feet, looping the strap over my shoulder as I replied, “Sure.”
She smiled then jerked her chin my direction. “You two ever going to have a wedding?”
“Oh…” I coughed out a laugh, lifting my hand as I reflexively spun the three-carat, princess cut, solitaire engagement ring I’d been wearing for the last two years.
Dr. Redford knew Benson never officially asked me to marry him.
One morning, I woke up, and the ring was just…
there . I’d been wearing it ever since. The only time I took it off was when I was gardening or doing the dishes.
I understood it was a symbol, but I always considered it more a statement than a promise.
Moreover, it wasn’t a statement meant for me but everyone else.
Our promises were far more permanent and the statements held therein bigger than a diamond could ever convey.
I took on the title of his ol’ lady three summers ago, and I bore his ink shortly thereafter.
The little black and gray tornado, in homage to my old man, would spin forever in the center of my left forearm.
I didn’t need him to ask me to marry him.
Neither did I need or even desire a wedding.
All I wanted was to wake up to Ben and our little family for as long as both of us were still breathing.
I dropped my hand back to my side and scrunched my nose. “Doubtful,” I answered. “Though, it wouldn’t surprise me if my friends showed up one day with a white dress, just my size, and told me the wedding was on, get dressed, everyone’s waiting at the clubhouse.”
She hummed a laugh. “I realize you’re speaking hypothetically, but I believe they mean well. Just remember, it’s okay to set?—”
“Boundaries. Yeah. I know,” I interrupted. “I was only teasing.”
I think.
I hope, I thought.
I made a mental note to text Alexia and tell her, if Tess or Jenna ever got the wild idea, I was trusting her to shut it down.
“Alright. See you again in a couple weeks?”
“I’ll be here. Have a good night.”
We parted with a wave, and I made my way through the quiet reception area of her office. I was her last appointment on Tuesdays. As I stepped outside into the summer evening, I pulled out my phone and checked for notifications. I had two—a text from both Winnie and Ben.
I opened Ben’s first.
It was a photo.
I laughed softly to myself as I approached the Bronco, my gaze still aimed at the photo. I’d been gone for less than two hours, and he knew I planned on coming straight home. Our little man wouldn’t change much in ninety minutes, but Ben couldn’t help himself.
When Maverick first became a dad, Benson would tease him about how many pictures he took of Lane.
As it turned out, my man had no room to judge.
I don’t think either of us anticipated how much he would enjoy being a father—but he adored Kash.
His love for our son helped heal me. More than that, it satisfied a desire I thought unattainable.
In birthing Kash, I was able to give Benson a gift I believed he deserved with my whole heart.
The life he’d given me wasn’t something for which I could pay him back.
And while Kash was the most precious gift to both of us, he gave Ben something I couldn’t.
The fact that I could help make that possible was beautiful.
I blacked out the screen on my phone and tossed it into my purse before climbing up behind the wheel.
Seeing their faces made me anxious to get home.
It wasn’t so long ago when home was a solitary place.
Now, the peace of our abode wasn’t synonymous with silence or solitude.
Since I moved in with Benson, he’d adopted a new attitude around the meaning of home, too—and his version included putting butts in all the seating I made sure we had, both indoors and out.
Our house had become a gathering place second only to the clubhouse.
Between our growing toddler, Ben’s Stallion brothers, their ol’ ladies, and their offspring, I was hardly ever alone.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Not ten minutes later, I was pulling into the garage.
It hadn’t taken much for Ben to convince me to move out of my house and into his. He told me I had free reign to decorate it however I wanted. He also promised he wouldn’t put a cap on the budget for the backyard.
It was a dangerous promise for a woman like me—especially given the massive potential that was his yard.
But he’d meant what he said. Every word.
And when I sold my house and moved out, I didn’t so much feel as though I was letting go of something I needed.
My house was my sanctuary for as long as I needed it to be. It was my safe place. My hiding place.
But I wasn’t hiding anymore.
As I entered our home, I hung my purse on the hook mounted on the wall behind the door and immediately went in search of my two favorite guys.
“Ben? I’m home. Where are you?”
Kash’s high-chair had been abandoned, evidence of his earlier snack still smeared across the tray.
When I was met with silence, I ventured out to the yard.
As soon as I pulled open the sliding glass door, I heard my little man squeal in excitement.
I caught a glimpse of him running across the thick bed of grass beyond our covered patio before he tripped over his little feet and landed on all fours.
Rather than get upset, he glanced over his shoulder, squealed again, and began to crawl as fast as he could.
Benson growled playfully, chasing after him. As soon as he was in reaching distance, he scooped Kash up and catapulted him high into the air.
“Oh, shit ,” I gasped instinctively, my heart leaping out of my chest at the sight.
As he always did, Benson caught our giggling boy with ease.
Predictable as the whole thing was, I still didn’t like it.
Both my guys looked at me as I closed the distance between us. Ben smirked and Kash wiggled in excitement before shouting, “Mama!”
“Hi, honey bunch.” I reached up and combed my fingers through his overgrown wavy hair, clearing his forehead and uncovering his pretty green eyes.
His mane was a reddish brown, like his father’s, and just as wild, too.
He was eighteen months, and he’d yet to have his first haircut—but I couldn’t seem to bring myself to do it.
Ben leaned over and pressed a kiss against my temple. “How’d it go?”
He always asked. Every time.
“Good,” I said on a sigh. “We’re going to stick with this schedule for a little while.”
He nodded and Kash squealed, pounding his fists against Ben’s chest as he rambled.
“I should probably take him inside soon. Feed him, give him a bath, let him calm down before I throw something together for dinner.”
“Don’t worry about me tonight. I’ll grab somethin’ quick. Got club business to see to. Shouldn’t be too late, but you go ahead and eat.”
“Oh,” I hummed, disappointed at such news. Even though it was only Tuesday, it was the end of my weekend, and I was hoping for some quality adult time with my old man.
Since Kash was born, Benson and I had managed to make our opposing shifts work in our favor.
I cut back on my hours at the bar. Most nights, I was home by midnight.
Kash was usually a pretty good sleeper, which meant I got to sleep, too.
It was even better that Ben always took the morning shift, getting up with Kash before heading into work.
In the late afternoons, when both of us needed to be away from home, Shep would come over and babysit for us.
He was, officially, the Stallion grandpa.
All that to say, even though we fell into the same bed every night, I didn’t always get my man the way I wanted.
“Everything alright?” I probed, wondering how much information he’d give me.
“Nothin’ for you to worry about, sparky.”
“Okay,” I replied easily, knowing better than to doubt him. I held my hands out for Kash, and he came willingly into my arms. All three of us headed inside—Ben to don his boots and his kutte—Kash to eat his dinner.
On his way out the door, Benson came to the kitchen to kiss both of us goodbye.
“Wait up for me, you hear?” he muttered against my lips.
I smiled, realizing he’d heard me loud in clear out in the yard, in spite of all I hadn’t said.
Fuck—but I loved him.
“Okay, daddy,” I whispered in return.
He smacked the side of my ass, tossed me a wink, then headed for his hog.