Extended Epilogue
CHLOE
Five years later…
The alarm chirps at six-thirty, and I groan, burying my face into Cade's shoulder. His arm tightens around me automatically, still asleep.
"Five more minutes," I mumble.
"Mama!" Emma's voice rings out from down the hall, followed by the telltale thump of tiny feet hitting the floor. "Mama, I'm awake!"
So much for five more minutes.
Cade stirs, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "I'll get her. You shower first."
"You're my favorite person."
"Tell me something I don't know."
I watch him roll out of bed, pulling on sweatpants before padding down the hall. Through the baby monitor, I hear Emma's delighted squeal when her father appears.
"Daddy! Up, up!"
"Good morning, sunshine. Let's go wake your brother, yeah?"
I smile, sliding out of bed and heading for our bathroom. The house we bought three years ago is bigger than the penthouse—four bedrooms, a backyard, actual space for children to run and play. Cade insisted on it after Lucas was born, wanting our family to have room to grow.
Our family. Still surreal sometimes.
By the time I'm dressed, Cade has both kids in the kitchen. Emma sits at the table, carefully coloring in a princess book. Lucas bangs his sippy cup against his high chair tray, babbling nonsense.
"Coffee's ready," Cade says, kissing my cheek as I pass. "And I started eggs."
"Have I mentioned you're my favorite person?"
"Once or twice this morning."
I pour coffee, savoring that first sip before moving to kiss Emma's head. "Morning, baby. What are you drawing?"
"Princess with a dragon. The dragon is nice. They're friends."
"I love it."
Lucas reaches for me, and I lift him from his high chair, settling him on my hip. He immediately grabs my hair, tugging gently.
"Mama. Mama, mama, mama."
"Yes, Lucas. I'm Mama." I kiss his chubby cheek, breathing in that perfect baby smell.
Cade plates scrambled eggs, setting them in front of Emma before taking Lucas from me. "Eat. You have to be at the center by nine."
"Yes, boss."
"Don't tempt me with that word before the kids are in bed."
Heat flashes through me at his low tone, but I just smirk and dig into my eggs.
Finishing my degree took longer with Emma and then Lucas, but I did it—graduated two years ago with honors. Six months later, I opened The Haven, my non-profit art therapy center for children. Grant funding covers most expenses, with donations filling the gaps.
It's everything I dreamed of. Helping kids heal through creativity, giving them a safe space to express themselves.
Cade shifted to working primarily from home after Lucas was born, supporting my career the way I supported him for years. He still consults, still manages investments, but does it from his home office so I can focus on the center.
Partnership. Real partnership.
The doorbell rings at eight-fifteen. Emma leaps up, shrieking.
"Grandma! Grandpa!"
She races to the door, and I follow, opening it to reveal my parents. My mother immediately crouches, catching Emma in a hug.
"There's my girl! Did you sleep well?"
"Uh-huh! Daddy let me pick my pajamas all by myself!"
"Very grown up." Mom kisses her forehead before straightening to hug me. "Morning, sweetheart."
"Morning, Mom. Thanks again for watching them today."
"Are you kidding? Highlight of my week."
My father enters behind her, heading straight for the kitchen where Cade's cleaning up. "Cade. How's Lucas handling those molars?"
"Screaming bloody murder at two a.m., but otherwise fine."
"Emma was the same way. Give him a frozen washcloth—works wonders."
Watching them talk so easily still amazes me sometimes. Five years ago, my father disowned us both. Now, they're trading parenting advice like old friends.
Not quite friends. There's still careful respect, boundaries neither crosses. But genuine warmth. Mutual love for the grandchildren bridging gaps that once seemed impossible.
"Alright." I grab my purse and jacket. "Lucas's bottles are in the fridge. Emma knows she gets one episode of cartoons before lunch, but good luck enforcing that."
"We'll manage," Mom assures me. "Go help your kids at the center. These two will be spoiled rotten by the time you get back."
I kiss Emma and Lucas goodbye, hug my parents, and let Cade walk me to my car.
"Call if you need anything," he says, opening my door.
"I will. Love you."
"Love you too." He kisses me—deep and possessive, reminding me exactly who I belong to even after five years of marriage. "See you tonight."
The Haven sits in a converted storefront downtown, the front windows painted with colorful murals. Inside, the space is bright and welcoming—art supplies organized on shelves, worktables scattered throughout, children's artwork covering the walls.
My small staff is already here. Jenna at the front desk, sorting intake forms. Marcus setting up for his music therapy session. Lisa arranging supplies for this afternoon's group.
"Morning, Chloe," Jenna calls. "You have three sessions today—two individual, one group."
"Perfect. Thanks."
My first client arrives at nine-thirty. Seven-year-old Mia, here because her parents just divorced. She doesn't talk much, but her paintings speak volumes—dark colors, fractured images, clear expressions of confusion and pain.
I sit beside her as she works, offering gentle prompts but mostly just being present.
"You're using a lot of blue today," I observe.
"Blue is sad."
"It can be. Do you feel sad?"
She nods, not looking up from her canvas. "Daddy doesn't live with us anymore."
"That must be really hard."
"He says he still loves me. But he left."
"Adults leaving doesn't mean they don't love you. Sometimes grown-ups make choices that have nothing to do with their kids, even though it affects them."
She considers this, adding swirls of purple to her blue background. "Do you think he misses me?"
"I know he does. Missing someone and being with them aren't always the same thing, but the missing part is real."
Mia paints for another forty minutes, gradually incorporating warmer colors. By the end of our session, there's orange mixed with the blue—small but significant progress.
"This is beautiful," I tell her. "You're very talented."
She smiles shyly. "Can I take it home?"
"Of course. It's yours."
After Mia leaves, I have administrative work—grant applications, budget reviews, scheduling. Unglamorous but necessary.
At noon, Cade video calls. His face fills my laptop screen, his home office visible behind him. Then Emma crashes into frame, her face pressed against the camera.
"Mama! When you coming home?"
"After work, baby. A few more hours."
"But I miss you now."
My heart clenches. "I miss you too, sweetheart. Are you having fun with Grandma and Grandpa?"
"Uh-huh. Grandpa builded blocks with me. Big, big tower!"
"That sounds amazing."
Cade pulls her into his lap, grinning at me. "Lucas just went down for his nap. Your mom's reading, and your dad's pretending he's not sneaking cookies from the jar."
"Tell him he's a terrible influence."
"He says Emma inherited his sweet tooth, so it's genetic destiny."
I laugh, warmth flooding through me. This life. This messy, beautiful, chaotic life.
"I'll be home by five," I promise. "We'll have dinner together."
"Looking forward to it." Cade leans closer to the camera, lowering his voice even though Emma's right there. "Wear that blue dress tonight. The one I like."
Heat flares low in my belly. "For dinner with our toddlers?"
"After they're in bed."
"You're insatiable."
"And you love it."
Can't argue with that.
I arrive home at five-ten, finding controlled chaos. My father sits on the floor helping Emma build an elaborate block castle. My mother holds Lucas, who's gnawing on a teething ring and drooling everywhere.
"Mama!" Emma abandons the blocks, running to hug my legs.
I scoop her up, kissing her cheeks. "Hi, baby. Did you have a good day?"
"The best day! Grandpa readed me three stories, and Grandma let me help cook!"
"Helped make cookies," Mom clarifies. "Which means I made cookies while she ate chocolate chips."
"Essential sous chef duties."
My parents gather their things, hugging both children before heading out. Mom squeezes my hand at the door.
"You're doing such important work at the center, honey. I'm so proud of you."
"Thanks, Mom. For everything. For being here, for helping with the kids?—"
"It's our privilege." She kisses my cheek. "See you this weekend?"
"Absolutely."
After they leave, Cade emerges from his office, immediately taking Lucas from me. "How was your day?"
"Good. Tiring but good. Mia made real progress today."
"That's great, baby."
Dinner is chaos—Emma chattering non-stop about her day, Lucas throwing mashed sweet potato, Cade catching it mid-air and making everyone laugh. Normal. Messy. Perfect.
After dinner, we bathe the kids together. Emma splashes enthusiastically while Lucas tries to eat bubbles. Cade catches my eye across the tub, grinning, and I grin back.
This. This is everything.
I read Emma her bedtime story while Cade rocks Lucas to sleep. Emma snuggles against me, her thumb in her mouth as I turn pages.
"Mama?"
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"What are art kids?"
"What?"
"You help art kids. What does that mean?"
I smooth her hair, considering how to explain. "Remember when you were sad because you missed Daddy when he went on that trip?"
"Uh-huh."
"Some kids feel sad or scared or confused about things happening in their lives. I help them use art to feel better. Drawing and painting and creating things makes it easier to understand their feelings."
Emma processes this seriously. "When I grow up, I wanna help kids too."
My heart swells, tears pricking my eyes. "I think you'd be wonderful at that."
"Will you teach me?"
"Every day, baby. Every single day."
I tuck her in, kissing her forehead. By the time I slip out, she's already asleep, clutching her favorite stuffed rabbit.
Cade's in our bedroom when I slip inside, Lucas successfully settled in his crib for now. The moment I enter, Cade pulls me close, his arms wrapping around my waist as he kisses me deeply. His mouth is warm and insistent, the kind of kiss that makes my toes curl even after years together.
"Alone at last," he murmurs against my lips, his voice rough with want.
"For approximately two hours before Lucas wakes up teething," I reply, though I'm already melting into him, my hands sliding up his chest.
"Then we better make the most of it."
His hands slide down my back, cupping my ass and pulling me flush against him. I can feel how hard he already is, and despite the exhaustion weighing down my limbs, I want him. I always want him. That hasn't changed in five years of marriage and two kids.
Then Lucas's cry echoes through the baby monitor on the nightstand, sharp and unmistakable.
"Or not," Cade sighs, dropping his forehead against mine.
"I'll get him. You got up at two last night when Emma had that nightmare."
"We'll both go," he says, because that's who he is. That's who we are.
We spend the next hour tag-teaming a fussy, teething Lucas.
I rock him while Cade retrieves the chilled teething ring from the freezer.
Cade holds him while I rub numbing gel on his swollen gums. Back and forth, working together like we've done a thousand times before.
By the time Lucas finally settles again, his little body going slack with sleep, I'm dead on my feet, barely able to keep my eyes open.
Back in our bedroom, Cade pulls me onto the bed, his hands gentle now. "Where were we?"
"I'm exhausted, babe. Kids all day at the center, then work, then our kids, then Lucas being fussy—" I trail off, feeling guilty even though I know he understands.
"Rain check?" he asks, but there's disappointment in his voice, though he's trying to hide it.
I cup his face, kissing him softly, then pull back to meet his eyes. "You can fuck me while I sleep if you want. Do whatever you need. I'm all yours."
His pupils dilate immediately, his breath catching in his throat. "Fuck, Chloe?—"
"Is that a yes?" I ask, my lips curving into a tired smile.
"That's a very enthusiastic yes," he growls, his voice dropping to that dominant register that still makes my stomach flip.
I glance down between us, finding him already hard, his cock straining thick and obvious against his gray sweatpants.
Reaching between us, I wrap my hand around him through the fabric, stroking slowly from root to tip.
He's hot even through the material, and I feel him twitch under my palm.
"I want to wake up with this inside me," I murmur, squeezing him gently.
"Want to wake up feeling you filling my pussy.
Want to know you used me exactly how you wanted while I was sleeping, like I'm yours to take whenever you need. "
He groans, his hips jerking into my touch, his hand coming down to cover mine and press harder. "Fuck, baby. Keep doing that and I'll fuck you right now anyway. Hard and deep until you fall asleep on my cock."
"Promises, promises," I tease, but my eyes are already heavy, exhaustion pulling me under like a warm tide.
Cade kisses me one more time, slow and thorough, before I drift off completely. His words follow me into sleep, wrapping around me like a blanket.
"Love you so fucking much."
Five years ago, I couldn't have imagined this life.
I was a naive college student moving into a house with three stepbrothers I'd never met, scared and uncertain about everything.
I didn't know what I wanted. I didn't know who I was.
I definitely didn't know that the tall, commanding man who opened the door would become my entire world.
Now I can't imagine any other life. Not one without Cade's steady presence beside me, his hand always finding mine.
Not one without Emma's endless questions and Lucas's drooly smiles.
Not one without the chaos of bedtimes and teething rings, Sunday breakfast pancakes and art therapy sessions, sticky hands and sleepless nights.
This messy, exhausting, beautiful life is everything I never knew I needed. And I wouldn't trade a single moment of it.
Not even the teething.
Thanks for reading!