Epilogue
Six Months Later
Rosenna
W aking up beside Beckham, I leaned over and placed a small kiss on his chin. Slowly, he turned his body and pulled me into his embrace, his face nestled into the crook of my neck.
I giggled as I ran my hands through his hair. “You have to get up, Mr. Garcia. We have a lot of planning to do.”
“Well, Mrs. Garcia , we don’t have to do anything until a more reasonable hour this morning.”
“I can’t be Mrs. Garcia yet. We haven’t even had our engagement party… A ring on my finger is just a ring until we sign the papers.”
Slowly, he turned onto his back, pulling me to straddle his waist.
“A million-dollar ring…” he muttered, his hand trailing down my arm before it rested on my engagement ring.
I let out a small smile as I placed another kiss on his chin. “Yes, a million-dollar ring on my finger is just a million-dollar ring until we sign the papers.”
His lips found mine once again, and I gladly found myself giving in to his early morning attention and caresses.
Life with Beckham was different in comparison to being with Gavin. I would always pine after Gavin for affection, for love, for everything it seemed, but I didn’t have to ask Beckham to show me he loved me. We didn’t have to fight over me trying to grow and expand my business. We didn’t have to fight over small things out of bitterness and resentment. Not when he truly wanted the best for me and would stop at absolutely nothing to give it to me.
After our frisky and playful morning, we took a shower together, and I returned to my daily routine of checking emails, going through contracts, and planning our future wedding events.
Sitting at the coffee table in his studio, I scrolled through the choices of catering my soon-to-be father-in-law insisted I choose from. After selling my previous home, Vincent was insistent that we do at least one of our major wedding planning events at his estate.
After I told him we’d do our engagement party there, it seemed he took that as an opportunity to offer his other estates as venues for my bridal shower, our couple shower, a pre-rehearsal dinner, a day-after brunch… good Lord, our future baby shower and gender reveal party.
At least we didn’t have to pay for an expensive venue… well, we really didn’t have to pay for anything, actually. It was as if Vincent was the third person in our relationship, fourth if we count our lovely, intrusive, and opinionated Kira.
She was essentially my bridezilla; her role as my assistant and maid of honor made her the ultimate planner. Instead of internalizing wedding planning frustrations, I gladly placed the responsibilities on her shoulders.
For as little as I did in my previous engagement to Gavin, part of me felt all of the parties, brunches, and dinners I would have to endure before and even after the wedding felt a bit excessive.
The other part of me welcomed it all with open arms, happy to have a father-in-law who was supportive of me and my dreams, and happy to have my mother more involved, helping me with tough decisions without relying on my father.
Seeing a coffee mug appear by my shoulder, I looked over to see my sexy, attractive fiancé handing me my morning booster. Taking it from his hand, I pursed my lips together, waiting to feel his lips against mine. He leaned down, placing a heated kiss on my lips as I moaned.
After a moment, he pulled away, and I rolled my neck to the side as his wonderful hands found my shoulders, massaging my joints and pressing on just the right nerves.
“Flower, I told you to let my father deal with all the details of the event. I don’t want you to feel stressed. He’s the one who’s trying to turn our engagement into the party of the century.”
“Which is exactly why I need to at least have a say in some things. If not, we may just be looking at a million-dollar bill just on dining alone. At least I’ll be doing my part and making sure the silverware isn’t made from real gold,” I said, recalling Vincent showing me options for spoons and forks that were far too expensive to use for one night.
Even though Beckham warned me I should start getting used to his father’s lavish idea of living, I didn’t think it would be this hard. I was already being pampered way too much by my “kiss the ground I walk on and gets on his knees to cherish me” fiancé.
Beckham leaned down, placing a small kiss on the top of my head. “I guess it won’t make you feel any better if I told you he already put the order in for the silverware to ease some of your burden.”
Closing the laptop, I placed it on the coffee table and shook my head. “That’s enough party planning for me,” I muttered, attempting to feel annoyed. However, Beckham leaned closer, placing a tender kiss on my lips. His hand rose to caress my cheek, and I hummed as he pulled away.
“Tell me now if you want me to make my father reel it in.”
I sighed as I shook my head. “He’s just excited. I don’t want to take that from him.”
“And I don’t want him to take away your experience for planning our wedding with Kira.”
“Hate to break it to you, Mr. Garcia… but this isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve planned a wedding before. A mediocre one by my ex-husband’s mother’s standard, but… a wedding nonetheless.”
Possessively, Beckham ran his thumb over my diamond ring as he groaned in annoyance. “Don’t remind me…” he muttered, jealously lacing his tone, and I could only giggle as I wrapped my arms around his neck.
Before we could go any further, the front door opened and closed, and I heard the clicks of heels as they walked straight for the kitchen. Pulling away from Beckham, I looked over my shoulder as he shook his head.
“Say her name once, and dammit, there she is,” he muttered, and I hit his shoulder.
“Kira?” I began.
She looked through the cabinets like a madman.
“Bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch… Where’s the chardonnay? I need a glass.”
I giggled as she struck gold. “Well, hello to you too,” I said as she effortlessly opened the new bottle and poured herself a glass.
Beckham sighed as he placed a departing kiss on my head. “Looks like a girl talk is in order. I know when I’m not wanted.”
Kira continued pouring as she spoke dismissively, “Love you, Beck.”
He stepped out of the room. I watched Kira, amused, as she took a swig.
“Kira, it’s twelve in the afternoon.”
“Well, you know it’s five PM somewhere. Anyway, so do you remember Vincent and his evil plan of trying to marry me off?”
How could I forget? After getting engaged to Beckham, the next thing on Vincent Garcia’s bucket list was to marry Kira off to the highest bidder. Luckily for him, he didn’t have to go too far because his affluent family members were swimming with unwed sons who were practically signing up to be bachelors.
“Well, at our last family brunch, he was introducing me to Beckham’s cousins on his sister’s side. You remember I told you. There’s tall and rich, dull and rich, then dumb and rich.”
“Kira…” I warned.
She waved me off. “Okay, fine, but you know none of them caught my eye. Vincent was trying all night for me to get with the program, but… the kitty just didn’t purr.”
I shook my head with a sigh. “I get the picture, Kira.”
She raised a hand, holding it in the air with enthusiasm. “But! But! The other brother I told you about, Mr. Tall, Sexy, Older, and Cocky. Well, that day he showed up late, and I guess he was filled in on Vincent’s plan to marry me. So naturally, I acted like I didn’t notice him staring at me all night—but, bitch, you will not guess who showed up at the bar last night when I was enjoying my Thursday night margs.”
“No, he did not,” I muttered, my eyes widening.
She nodded. “Yes, he sure did. He’s fucking using his resources to find me. And when he did, he immediately took my tab and bought me another round of drinks. As for the money this guy has, we’re not talking about some low millionaire status. We’re talking the big bucks—the billionaire brunch sugar daddy that looks ready to fund my lavish lifestyle.”
Practically on the edge of my seat, I listened as she took another warranted sip before continuing. “And you know how big of a feminist I am. I don’t need money from any man. But for obvious reasons, it wouldn’t be the worst thing to have. So after a few drinks, I take the trip to a hotel with him, again for obvious reasons, and he is fucking huge , okay? The kitty was purring, but it was just about ready to tap out. And now? Now, I’m getting good morning texts, missed phone calls, and Vincent just forwarded me a marriage license to sign.”
“You’re joking,” I said, my eyes wide in utter shock and amusement.
She shook her head. “If I was, I wouldn’t be here downing this 1985 like it was my damn breakfast… Might as well be, though, you know, with the whole ’most important meal of the day’ spiel. This glass is the perfect way to start off this absolutely insane morning.”
“And you haven’t responded to any of his texts.”
She looked at me incredulously. “Bitch, I would, but I’m practically running for my life. Well, theoretically running. I could barely stand up to run out of his hotel room. Who’s to say he isn’t right behind me, ready to fuck me into the sheets like he would his future wife and the mother of his children. I’m too young to be married off!”
With a smile, I shook my head. “You poor thing. Now you know what it’s like to be pursued by a man who knows what he wants and will stop at nothing to get it.”
“And if you’re going to treat me like I treated you when Beckham was in his feral, possessive caveman era… I’m assuming you have no encouraging words for me here.”
I could only laugh. “What goes around comes around, my sweet Kira… You wanted the kitty to purr. Can’t start hissing now, can you?”
She glared at me before throwing the pillow beside her at my head.
Hearing a clear throat, we both looked over to see Beckham entering with a man who immediately had Kira’s eyes widened in utter disbelief.
“Look who decided to stop by to help with some of the engagement party preparations,” Beckham muttered.
I didn’t miss the hungry look of the hunk of a man standing next to my equally if not even more sexy one.
Standing, I smiled over at Mr. Tall, Sexy, Older and Cocky.
“It’s good to see you, Quentin. You’re just in time… I was just about to go over some of the silverware for the party with Kira. You know how Vincent is.”
He nodded with a small chuckle. “No need to explain. I’ve known him my whole life… he hasn’t changed one bit.”
His eyes lingered on Kira, who looked like a deer in headlights. Acting rather clueless as I handed her my closed laptop, she grabbed it slowly, gulping softly as her chest rose and fell.
I grinned. “Well, you guys can handle that. In the meantime, Beckham and I are going to go over the catering menu.”
Saying nothing, I watched as the man in a fitting dress shirt and pants walked over to Kira. He ran his hands through his hair, which was an attractive mix of black and only a few gray hairs.
I shot Kira a wink—her eyes cursed me—then I grabbed Beckham’s hand and walked to the bedroom. He was silent as we walked up the stairs, and as we entered his room, he let out a sigh and pulled me into his embrace.
“Why do I get the feeling you lied to Kira about the gold spoons and knives for a specific reason?”
“I lied because revenge is rather sweet. Bittersweet in most cases, but sweet nonetheless. Kira has been my biggest cheerleader for our relationship, even when I didn’t want her to be. It’s only fair that I return the favor.”
“So I’m assuming we shouldn’t leave them alone for too long, or the kitty will… purr even more?”
I smiled as I leaned up and placed a kiss on his lips.
“Sure, babe.”
He hummed, pulling my body closer to him as the kiss remained tender and passionate.
A Few Weeks Later
Hugging Vincent as he finished the loving toast to me and Beckham, I wiped away my tears as the crowd awed at our embrace. Feeling Beckham’s hand against my lower back, I dabbed away my tears lightly, attempting not to mess up the makeup Kira had fussed over for over an hour this morning.
At one of the family tables, my mother dabbed away her tears as she clapped. Kira, sitting beside Quentin, the kitty tamer, clapped proudly, her eyes holding only love and affection. At a table nearby, I could only smile at Helen and her husband, Sam, who seemed to be looking better day by day.
Pulling away from my soon-to-be father-in-law, the party continued as Beckham and I made our rounds to each table, happily thanking Vincent’s billionaire posse for their rather hefty engagement gifts.
And while I was grateful for the presents and the contributions, part of me was content enough without them. In the past, Kira and I had to hustle to get everything we wanted. It was just the both of us, pining after artists to bring in more revenue and praying that the grants we signed up for would one day send us a congratulatory check instead of a rejection letter.
It may have taken a few years, but with the help of my new fiancé and a few threats to Vincent’s staff on Kira’s behalf, my focus wasn’t solely on paying back my loans or proving to my father, ex-husband, and ex-in-laws that I was capable of succeeding.
Now, my focus was to empower artists and get their names and creativity out in the world, all while using my access to Beckham’s art warehouses filled with all of his passions and imagination painted onto canvases or sculpted into masterpieces. Before, I was living in an absolute nightmare. Today, holding hands with the man I would soon vow to spend my life with, I felt like I was living the dream.
Feeling a small kiss on my forehead, I looked up to see Beckham watching me, a hint of concern in his eyes. He always knew how to bring me out of my own thoughts and how to ground me, and I loved him more and more each day for that.
“You promised me you wouldn’t get lost in your thoughts and spiral today, my little flower.”
“And you promised it would only be one session when we first met.” I giggled, and he narrowed his eyes playfully at me as I placed a small kiss on his lips. “In all honesty, I’m fine; just thinking.”
“About how much you love me?” he asked cockily.
I hit his shoulder, annoyed. “That and, well… how much happier I am, not having to worry about paying my next bill or having to push aside amateur artists because I was afraid my business would collapse in on itself if we didn’t bring in enough profits.”
“You carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, Flower… I always want you to let me be the one to lift it off of them. It’s the least I could do to show you how much I love and appreciate you and all that you wish to give and achieve.”
Feeling his hand travel down my back, I shook my head. “I think you’ve shown how much you love me to almost everyone in this room, Mr. Garcia… You’re not very discreet, you know?” I smiled, and another giggle surfaced from me as he pulled me in closer, and I wrapped my arms around his neck.
“Unfortunately, discretion has never been my strong suit, Mrs. Garcia… especially when it comes to you.”
Four Years Later
“It was lovely to see you again, Mr. Howe; please enjoy the show.” I smiled, shaking his hand before I stepped away to continue greeting guests.
This was one of the largest exhibits we’d ever had, and I knew my accountant was going to have a busy few weeks ahead of him to balance the books. The turnout was bigger than ever, with local news outlets eager to interview Beckham and me; however, he and Vincent were doing all they could to hold them off.
At one of our other locations, Kira was hosting another exhibit, effectively handling the press all by herself with her broad-shouldered bodyguard of a partner willing to do anything and everything to see her happy.
Feeling someone’s hand on my lower back, I looked over to see my new assistant looking ever so concerned about the extensive amount of time I’d spent on my feet. I tried to soothe her nerves with a smile, but I could only wince as I felt Beckham Junior kick my bladder with all his force. Thank God I skipped out on the water being served earlier.
“Rosenna, please. You’ve been on your feet all day prancing around in these stilettos while looking like you’re about to give birth next week,” Cassandra pressed.
The upside of having a new assistant as Kira and I essentially began a partnership was that Cassie was just like Kira. The downside? She was just like Kira.
“Beckham said they make me look sexy,” I muttered, taking a seat, recalling his words as he watched me get dressed in our bedroom.
“The man also fantasizes about you digging said heels into his back while he goes feral on you. He’s obviously biased,” Cassandra said, rolling her eyes as she opened a water bottle for me.
I could only laugh as I took a small sip. Beckham Jr., do me a favor and keep the kicks to yourself for a minute.
Her phone rang in her back pocket, and she sighed as she picked it up. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere,” she ordered, and I watched, amused, as she walked off, squeezing her way past onlookers as they gazed at each work of art.
Taking her advice, I leaned back into the chair as I people-watched silently. However, my eyes widened as a familiar person came into view. My heart raced in my chest: it had been more than four years since I’d heard from him.
“Brent… hi,” I said.
He cleared his throat as he smiled. “Rosenna, it’s good to see you. You look well.”
I returned the small smile. “Pregnancy glow will do that to you…” The words felt a bit odd to him given our history, but he seemed unfazed. If it did bother him, he didn’t show it.
“Congratulations, by the way. Looks like you’re due any day now.”
“Been hearing that all day… hopefully it’ll go smoother the second time around.”
Brent only nodded his head in agreement.
He seemed to be torn, the obvious tension between us growing by the second.
In an instant, he spoke, his words flowing out of him like he’d ripped it off like a Band-Aid.
“Listen, now might not be the best time to say this, but I truly am sorry, Rosenna.”
I shook my head. “It’s in the past, Brent.”
“Being reminded by your suffering each and every day is my present and potential future,” he muttered.
I could only sigh. I patted the seat beside me, and Brent sat, elbows on his knees.
“I left the firm a while ago. Basically told Gavin he was on his own after your divorce settlement. There was nothing left to tie me to him for much longer. Not when you had already moved on.”
I didn’t hate Brent… nor did I hate Gavin. I had many more responsibilities, opportunities, and plans to focus on rather than to fuss or wallow in pity over the two men who wanted to make my life a living hell.
I put the blame on Gavin one hundred percent, but in my gut, I always knew Brent just didn’t want to lose me or our friendship if he went against Gavin. Over the years, our friendship diminished because of this, but I knew he simply acted out as a last resort to hold onto me. If he hadn’t given me the evidence to back my separation from Gavin in court, maybe things would’ve ended differently.
“I’m still in love with you, you know,” he said, looking over to me, his voice tinged with regret.
“I know,” I whispered, rubbing his back as I mustered up another sad smile.
Hearing a distinct pattern of little feet running through the gallery, I looked over to see my little girl coming over to me happily as if her father and I didn’t scold her every day for running through the gallery.
“Hi, Mommy! Hi!” Seraphina screamed, and I shook my head as she threw herself into my embrace. Happily, I kissed her face and hair as I pulled her closer.
“Hello, my sweet girl. Did you and Daddy have fun at the park this morning?”
She nodded enthusiastically before she began telling me all about the ducks she met by the pond and the butterfly she wanted to capture and take home so Beckham could draw it.
I would’ve been more inclined to listen to her babbling; however, I was more focused on Brent’s eyes, which looked down at her silently. His mind looked like it was racing, and I was curious to know what he was thinking. Before I was able to ask, however, he looked over at me.
“It’s good to see you thriving in a way you’ve always dreamed of. I’m happy Garcia was able to give you that,” he said truthfully, and I could only give him a sad smile as he stood, bidding me a silent farewell before making his way to the exit.
Feeling a soft kiss on my forehead, I was pulled out of my thoughts as my handsome husband stood before me. He allowed me to force him into a casual suit for today’s event. However, seeing his suit jacket hanging lazily over his shoulder with his hand as his sleeves were rolled up deliciously, I had no further complaints for him.
It scared me how attractive he was, how easily I was able to swoon over him, how effortlessly he turned me into something soft, pliant… his. Given my inability to say no to him, one could only conclude that we’d have our own mini-league baseball team with how much he loved seeing me pregnant. I had no doubt I’d spend the next few years exactly how he wanted me, swollen and round with his child… not that I was complaining too much.
“Wanted to give you some time to talk to him… but someone couldn’t give Mommy a minute to herself, now could she?” he asked, looking down at our daughter as she buried herself against me, content with being in my arms.
Although I probably had much more to say to Brent, I could only thank Sera for pulling me out of the conversation, as if she could sense I was ready to end it.
“It’s fine… he was just checking in. Says he’s happy for me even though he looked absolutely miserable.”
Beckham hummed. “Any man would be miserable if they let the woman they loved get away.”
“You’re right… though I’m sure the misery you endured when I pushed you away was far worse…”
“Can’t believe my father told you about that, “ he muttered, annoyed.
I pursed my lips as he leaned down, placing a reluctant kiss on my lips as we ignored Seraphina’s cute and exaggerated face of disgust.
Looking into his loving eyes, I could only sigh. They still held the same devotion, desire, and passion through all these years. I was no longer a broken, defeated woman, pining after a husband and family that wasn’t in my best interest to desire. Now, I was happy, cherished, fulfilled, and loved with everything I could have asked for and more.
“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” I whispered.
He hummed. “Almost any chance you can get... but it wouldn’t hurt to hear you say it again.”
I rolled my eyes at his antics as a smile came to my face.
“I love you, Beckham,” I whispered.
“And I love you, my little flower.”
Who would’ve thought the man who was convinced he couldn’t love would fall in love with the woman who thought she would never deserve it... and all it took was the art of discretion.