Epilogue
Two years later
I shift on the hard metal bleacher, trying to find a comfortable position that accommodates my growing belly.
Twenty-eight weeks pregnant with twins means I'm roughly the size of a small car, and the bleachers weren't designed for women carrying two babies who seem determined to practice synchronized swimming in my womb.
"Come on, Charlie!" I call out, my voice carrying across the dusty softball field. "You've got this!"
Charlie waves from second base, her dark hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, her purple uniform a size too big but still looking perfect on her growing frame.
"Bases loaded, two outs!" Trenton calls from the third-base coach's box. He's wearing a purple t-shirt with "Coach" printed across the back, his arms crossed over his chest as he watches the game unfold.
Matthew paces behind home plate, clipboard in hand, his coaching cap pulled low over his eyes. "Just make contact, Lily! Just put the bat on the ball!"
The opposing team's pitcher winds up, and Lily swings with all her might. The crack of the bat echoes across the field, and the ball soars into shallow center field.
"Run!" Matthew shouts, dropping his clipboard and waving his arms. "Run, Lily!"
Charlie takes off from second base as Lily races toward first. The center fielder fumbles the ball, and suddenly the bases are clearing. Charlie rounds third, her ponytail flying behind her as Trenton waves her home.
"Slide!" he shouts.
Charlie hits the dirt in a cloud of dust, her foot tagging home plate a split second before the catcher's glove closes around her ankle.
"Safe!" the umpire calls, and our side of the bleachers erupts in cheers.
I struggle to my feet, wincing as the babies choose that moment to practice their own form of celebration. "That's my girl!" I shout, though I doubt Charlie can hear me over the noise.
She's already on her feet, high-fiving her teammates with the kind of unbridled joy that still makes my heart ache in the best possible way.
Two years have passed since Evan, and while the memories of that night in the barn still haunt our dreams occasionally, they've receded to manageable shadows rather than all-consuming darkness.
"We did it!" Charlie shouts, running toward the dugout where her teammates are jumping and hugging. "We won!"
Trenton and Matthew meet at home plate, exchanging a complicated handshake that involves a ridiculous number of steps but always ends with them clasping hands and grinning at each other like proud fathers.
"Mom!" Charlie breaks away from her team and runs toward me, her face flushed with excitement. "Did you see? I scored the winning run!"
"I saw every second of it," I tell her, wrapping an arm around her dusty shoulders. "You were amazing."
She looks up at me, her blue eyes shining with pride. "Papa said I have natural instincts for the game. He says I could play in high school if I keep practicing."
"High school is a long way off," I remind her, smoothing her hair back from her sweaty face. "But if that's what you want, we'll support you."
"Daddy says I can try out for travel ball next season." She bounces on her toes, unable to contain her excitement. "He says the team needs a good second baseman."
I glance over at Trenton and Matthew, who are gathering equipment while the other parents congratulate them on the championship.
Two years ago, I wouldn't have imagined them coaching a girls' softball team, but here they are, planning practices, teaching fundamentals, and cheering louder than anyone in the stands.
"Go help your coaches," I tell Charlie, giving her a gentle push. "I need to sit down before these babies decide to make an early appearance."
Charlie nods seriously. "Papa says they're going to be soccer players, but I think they should play softball. It's the best sport."
"Go." I laugh, settling onto the lower bleacher with a grateful sigh. "We'll discuss their future athletic careers later."
She races off, and I watch her go, marveling at how far we've come. The adoption was finalized and Charlie has thrived in the security of our home. She still sees Dr. Elaine once a month, but the nightmares have become rare, the anxiety manageable.
"Need a hand?" Matthew appears at my side, offering his arm as I struggle to stand.
"I need a forklift," I grumble, but take his hand gratefully. "These two are practicing their karate moves again."
He places his free hand on my belly, his face softening as he feels the movement beneath his palm. "They're strong, just like their mom."
"Just like their big sister," I correct, nodding toward Charlie, who's helping Trenton load equipment into the back of his truck.
Matthew's smile is warm as he watches them. "She had a great game today. That slide into home was textbook."
"Where did she learn to slide like that? I certainly didn't teach her."
"Trenton's been working with her in the backyard." He guides me toward the parking lot, his arm a steady support at my waist. "Every evening after dinner. They've got this whole routine: he pitches, she hits, they work on base running. It's pretty cute."
I lean into him, enjoying the solid warmth of his body. "You're not jealous of their softball bond?"
"Are you kidding? I'm the one teaching her how to keep score." He pats the clipboard tucked under his arm. "I've got pages of data on every player. Trenton may know how to slide, but I know Lily's batting average against left-handed pitchers."
I laugh, the sound carrying across the nearly empty parking lot. "My two former special forces operatives, reduced to softball statisticians and base-running coaches."
"Hey, coaching is serious business," he protests, but he's smiling. "We've got a championship to defend next season."
"Speaking of which," I say as we reach the car, "Charlie mentioned travel ball?"
Matthew opens the passenger door for me, his expression thoughtful. "We've been talking about it. She's good, Morgan. Really good. The local league is great, but if she wants to take it to the next level…"
"Then we'll make it happen," I finish for him. "Whatever she needs."
He nods, helping me into the seat with gentle hands. "That's the plan."
I watch him circle the car, admiring the way he's filled out in the last two years, not just physically, though the coaching has kept him in excellent shape, but emotionally. The hard edges have softened, the shadows in his eyes lightened. He's found peace in this life we've built together.
Trenton and Charlie arrive at the car, Charlie chattering excitedly about the game-winning play.
"And then I saw the ball get past the center fielder, and I just knew I had to go for it," she's saying, her hands gesturing wildly. "Daddy always says to be aggressive on the base paths."
"That's right," Trenton confirms, ruffling her hair. "You read the play perfectly, kiddo."
Charlie beams up at him, and I feel that familiar ache in my chest, the one that comes from witnessing pure, unconditional love.
"Mom says I can play travel ball next season," Charlie announces, climbing into the back seat. "Does that mean we need to get me a new glove? Because Lily's dad said travel ball is really competitive, and I should probably have a better glove if I'm going to try out."
Trenton and Matthew exchange a look over the roof of the car.
"We'll see about the glove," Trenton says diplomatically. "First, we celebrate with ice cream."
"Yes!" Charlie pumps her fist. "Can we go to Scoops? Please? They have that new birthday cake flavor I've been wanting to try."
"We can go to Scoops," I agree, buckling my seat belt with some difficulty around my enormous belly. "But only if you promise to shower before we go. You're covered in dirt."
Charlie looks down at her filthy uniform and grins. "It's the dirt of champions, Mom."
As we pull out of the parking lot, Charlie chattering about the game and the upcoming ice cream celebration, I catch Trenton's eye in the rearview mirror. He's watching me with that look, the one that still makes my heart skip after all this time.
"What?" I ask softly.
He just shakes his head, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Nothing. Just thinking about how lucky we are."
Matthew reaches across the console to take my hand, his thumb tracing circles on my palm. "Three years ago, if someone had told me I'd be coaching a girls' softball team and planning for twins, I would have laughed in their face."
"Two years ago, I was trying to keep a terrified little girl alive," I remind him. "Now look at us."
We stop at a red light, and Charlie leans forward between the front seats. "Can the babies come to my games when they're born? I want to teach them how to play."
"Absolutely," Trenton assures her. "But they might need a few years before they can swing a bat."
"I can wait," Charlie says seriously. "I'm patient."
The light changes, and we continue toward home, toward showers and ice cream and the comfortable rhythm of our lives. In the back seat, Charlie has moved on to planning what flavors everyone should get at Scoops, her championship medal clutched proudly in her hand.
I watch the familiar streets pass by, feeling the twins shift and kick beneath my hand.
Our family is growing, expanding in ways I never imagined possible when I first found Charlie at that gas station.
The road that led us here was dark and dangerous, paved with blood and fear and impossible choices.
But we made it. We built this life from the ashes of what came before. We became the family Charlie needed, and in doing so, became the family we all needed.
"Mom?" Charlie's voice interrupts my thoughts. "Do you think the babies will be good at sports like me?"
I turn to look at her, our daughter, our miracle, our reason for everything. "I think they'll be exactly who they're meant to be," I tell her. "Just like you."
She nods, satisfied with this answer, and returns to her ice cream planning. Trenton's hand finds my knee, squeezing gently. Matthew's thumb continues its steady circles on my palm.
We've come so far. We've lost so much. We've built something beautiful from the wreckage.
And as we pull into our driveway, the house where Charlie's purple bedroom waits and the nursery we've been preparing stands ready for the twins, I know with absolute certainty that we would do it all again.
For her. For them. For this.
For family.
Carter and Trixie is next <3