Extended Epilogue
ZANE-IN THE FUTURE…
T he fire crackles in our living room as I watch Tessa curl deeper into my side, wineglass in hand. Across from us, Asher and Ivy are similarly entwined on our oversized armchair, looking as in love as they did fifteen years ago.
"Remember when you thought I was using your brother for his investment?" Ivy teases me, making Tessa laugh against my chest.
"In my defense, I was an idiot back then." I kiss Tessa's temple. "About a lot of things."
"Some things never change," Asher quips, earning a playful swat from Ivy.
Luna, our rescue calico, purrs between Tessa and me, while her two kittens—now fully grown—chase each other through the room. One is orange like Meatball, the other one dark like Espresso. When we lost Espresso two years ago, it nearly broke us all. But then our son James found Luna, pregnant and alone, and somehow our family felt complete again.
"Dad!" Charlotte, our ten-year-old whirlwind, bounds down the stairs. "Can we have hot chocolate?"
"Only if you make enough for everyone," Tessa tells her. She grins—her mother's smile, everyone says—and heads to the kitchen.
"She's got your organizational skills," Asher says. "Remember how you used to categorize everything, even as kids?"
"Like that stray cat I hid in my room," I recall fondly. "Had a whole filing system for her toys."
"Until Dad found out," Asher reminds me. "Good thing Mom was on your side."
"Some things are worth fighting for." I meet Tessa's eyes, remembering all the walls we broke down together.
"Mom!" James calls from upstairs, his voice deeper now at fourteen. "Uncle Asher's twins are trying to hack my laptop again!"
"Boys!" Ivy calls. "Leave your cousin alone!"
The twins—exact replicas of Asher at that age—thunder down the stairs, all innocent smiles and mischief.
"We just wanted to see his new bakery management program," they protest in unison.
It still amazes me sometimes—how our little bakery grew into this empire. Four locations, Ivy's cooking show, Tessa's brilliant business acumen making it all possible. Our kids growing up between board meetings and baking sessions, between high school entrepreneurship clubs where James is already showing signs of following in our footsteps, and elementary school bake sales that Charlotte runs with CEO-level precision.
"Speaking of the bakery." Tessa sits up excitedly. "Are we ready to host Christmas this year? Twenty-five people isn't too many, right?"
"Please." Ivy waves her hand. "Between my cooking show prep kitchen and your organizational skills, we could handle fifty."
It's become our tradition—all our families together for one big celebration. Parents, siblings, kids, the whole chaotic, beautiful mess of it.
"Remember our first Christmas together?" I murmur to Tessa. "Just us and Espresso?"
"And burned dinner and store-bought snack cakes." She smiles softly. "Now look at us."
Charlotte returns with hot chocolate for everyone, while James finally emerges from his room, laptop tucked under his arm. At fourteen, he's already showing my height and Tessa's business sense—a dangerous combination that has the board members nervous about their future positions.
"Tell us about high school again," Charlotte requests, settling between us with Luna's kittens immediately claiming her lap. Though she's heard it a thousand times, our youngest never tires of our love story.
"Well," I start, meeting Tessa's eyes. "Once upon a time, there was a cheerleader who saw past every wall I built…"
"And a bad boy who wasn't so bad after all," she finishes.
"Gross," James mutters from his spot on the floor, but he's smiling as he types away on his laptop, no doubt working on his latest business proposal. At his age, I was trying to look tough sneaking a cigarette and using my numbers mind for shady shit. He's already developing programs to streamline our shelter operations.
The twins curl up with their parents, and suddenly our living room is full of the next generation, eager to hear our story again.
"Don't forget the part about the bakery," Ivy adds. "And how your mom saved my cookies from burning that first day."
"Or how Uncle Zane pretended to hate the idea." Asher laughs.
"I was an idiot," I repeat, pulling Tessa closer.
"Was?" she teases.
But we're both smiling, both remembering that snowy December when everything changed. When walls crumbled and hearts opened and love proved stronger than any defense we'd built.
Now, fifteen years later, surrounded by our family—both blood and chosen—I realize something.
Some love stories don't end with happily ever after. They just keep getting better. Keep growing.
Keep proving that the best dreams aren't the ones we have as teenagers. They're the ones we build together, day by day, year by year, memory by memory.
Until suddenly you look around and realize this is better than any fantasy. This is real.
And as our family shares stories and laughter, as snow falls softly outside, as cats purr and children grow and love fills every corner of our home, I know with absolute certainty that this is exactly where we were always meant to be.
“Hey, Dad,” Charlotte says with a giggle, the room falling silent as if someone else put her up to whatever she’s about to say.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Do you think that this is finally the year Santa doesn’t leave coal in your stocking?”
She falls into a fit of giggles, looking over at her uncle Asher who clearly told her what to say.
“Hmm.” I rub my chin like I’m thinking hard. “I think your mom is the only one who can answer that.” I glance over at Tessa, a devious smirk tugging at my lips. “Have I been good enough this year, Mrs. Mercer?”
A bright-red blush begins to creep up her neck, that little telltale sign revealing where her mind has gone. She lets out a breathy laugh, her teeth dragging slowly across her bottom lip as she looks at me.
“Of course not, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Curious about Ivy and Asher’s story?
Check out their adorable, romantic story in Unwrapped .
When my best friend and I decide to open our dream bakery, Sugar & Spice, I expect endless nights of kneading dough and dusting sugar cookies with holiday magic.
What I don't expect?
My business-savvy bestie reaching out to Asher Mercer—Chicago's most eligible bachelor and the same guy who starred in all my high school daydreams.
Keep reading for a sneak peek.
And while you’re at it, check out my other Christmas romance stories that are sure to warm you up this holiday season!
A Very Bossy Christmas
“Sweetheart, I know exactly how to handle you.”
Those eight little words whispered in my ear by my boss were my undoing.
And what we did after he said them, most definitely landed me on Santa’s naughty list.
Dashing Mr. Snow
“Maybe we can be a little naughty. You want to be naughty for me, right?”
The last thing I expected to get for Christmas was being dumped by my boyfriend—after all, I’m always on Santa’s good list. But walking in on my naked boss and seeing his candy cane was an even BIGGER holiday surprise—one that has me headed straight for a lump of coal this year.
Naughty or Nice
Dear Santa, I know I’m supposed to be nice, but this year, I need to be really naughty.
Oh, and I need a BIG favor—Carson Wells, in nothing but a big pretty bow under my Christmas tree.
Xoxo, Felicity