Epilogue 2
Shane
“Hey, babe?” I stop in the doorway when I find her on the bed with all the kids asleep around her. She holds a finger to her mouth. I walk to the bed and whisper, “You need help out?”
She laughs, but it’s quiet, making her shoulders rattle instead of hearing the beautiful sound. Reaching her hand out, she takes mine, and I lift her by the waist when she gets to her knees.
I don’t put her down. I hold her to me like we used to do all the time. Her legs come around my middle, arms around my neck. She drops her head to my shoulder as I carry her out of the room.
We don’t go far. The kids can’t be left unsupervised, but I’ve wanted to do this for so long that it seems now was a good time. Now or never.
“We wrapped the album,” I whisper, pressing her back to the wall just outside our bedroom.
“That’s amazing,” she murmurs against my lips. “I’m so proud of you.”
My pride for her extends well above what I could ever do for the family. Though she doesn’t see it this way. She believes this is her opportunity to give our kids what she never had in her own life. But I know what she gave up to be here for us—not just for the kids but also for me to chase my goals. So I’ll make sure her wildest dreams come true.
“I wanted to give you something.”
“Ooh, a gift?” She reaches below my belt. “Is it?—”
“No,” I reply with a low chuckle. I’ve created a monster. Catching her hand, I want this to be about her, not me. I reach into my back pocket and pull out a piece of paper. “Here, this is for you.”
When I set her on her feet, she unfolds the paper. I didn’t expect a gasp or a glare. “Tell me you did not buy a yacht, Shane Faris.”
“Did you just use my full name like I’m in trouble?” I try to stifle the laugh that wants to erupt. Running my finger along her bottom lip, I ask, “Why is that so sexy coming from your mouth?”
She rolls her eyes. “Please tell me you didn’t buy a yacht.”
“I didn’t buy a yacht, but I did book one for our honeymoon.”
“A honeymoon?” Her whole tone changes, the gold of her eyes shining even in the dim hallway light. “What about the kids?”
“They’ll be taken care of. It’s only a few days. I didn’t think we’d want to be gone long. My parents will watch them for two nights here, then my aunt and uncle are coming to stay at Laird’s. They’re going to be there with them. A big cousin sleepover.” Our fingers fold together. “What do you say?”
“I always wanted to go on a yacht.”
“I know. We’ll have four nights just the two of us cruising the Hawaiian Islands.”
Wrapping her arms around me again, she smiles, lighting up my life like she always does. “The kids will have the best time, but I can’t wait to honeymoon with you.”
This time, our kiss is gentle and slow. We take our time to savor the quiet moment alone.
“Daddy?”
With my arms around Cat, I turn to see Clara holding hands with Berkeley. “She peed.”
Glancing at my wife, I say, “I’ll take over. You mentioned wanting to finish a painting. Why don’t you head over to your studio?”
“You sure?”
“Yep.” I kiss her cheek, then go to my girls to kneel in front of them. “Did you go potty, Berkeley?”
She has dark hair like her mother’s that lightens when she spends time outside in the sun, and her eyes are so much like Cat’s it’s like looking at her mini twin. But she giggles, and I know that devious look in her eyes is all mine. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” I pick her up under the arms and hold her out in front of me.
Just as I get Berkeley cleaned up and in fresh clothes, Kick comes to find me. “Arrow hit me in the head with the drumstick, Daddy.”
I knew giving that little hellion a weapon was a mistake, but he’s the only one who’s taken to playing drums. And at two, he hits an impressive paradiddle. I snap Berkeley into my arms and rush into their playroom, converted from my old studio.
I remove the drumstick from Arrow’s hand just before he lands another on Kick. Those blues fill with a fire, and he starts crying. I scratch the back of my neck and then get an idea. One loud clap gets all their attention. “Okay, guys, let’s go to the park.”
Rock star status. Fame. Millions in the bank. All my fuckups and sins. None of it matters to them. I’m a hero to my kids. I can’t imagine anything better.
I march them down the hall just as Cat is about to slip into the garage. I keep them focused forward so we don’t get tears because Mommy’s leaving. The kids are digging through the fridge for juice boxes when I hear, “Hey, Faris?” I turn back to see the hero of my story put her hand over her heart, and say, “I love you.”
Our eyes stay locked for a few seconds, exchanging everything we feel inside. “I know.”
She’s quick with the eye roll and smirk twisted to the side.
But before she leaves, I say, “Hey, Faris?” She smiles, genuine and so much like the girl from the bonfire that made me fall in love at eighteen.
Old enough to know that wasn’t love. That was a crush. This is love. Real. Enduring, Soul deep. My chemistry changes to match hers in every stage of life. I say, “It’s always been you, babe.”