Epilogue

FOUR MONTHS LATER…

Paige stared at the bound pages Olly had just passed over. He’d completed the biography two weeks ago and she hadn’t read it yet. Not in its fully pieced-together form, anyway. And now it was in her hands, a wad of white paper containing months of his blood, sweat and tears, the bolded title in large font staring back at her on the top sheet.

A Complicated Man: Memories of My Father.

‘You did it,’ she said, smiling at him as he pulled out the chair at the end of the table and sat.

He smiled. ‘Thanks to you.’

‘Nope.’ She shook her head. ‘This is all you. I just?—’

‘Kicked my ass and told me to stop feeling sorry for myself.’

Laughing, Paige shook her head. ‘Pushed you in the right direction.’

She glanced at the title again knowing how hard it had been for him to dig this deep and lay himself bare and loving him all the more for it. These past four months had been intense for them with the on-again, off-again scrutiny from paparazzi but it had only pushed them closer. Oliver’s protection of her had been fierce and, as each day passed, she fell in love with him a little more.

‘Well?’ he demanded as she smoothed her hands over the title page. ‘Are you going to read it?’

She nodded. ‘It’s a big moment.’

‘Yep.’

As she flipped the page, the dedication jumped out at her.

To Bella, Sienna and Astrid – thank you. Without your scheming I never would have met the love of my life. And to Paige. I love you to distraction.

Silly tears pricked at her eyes as she smiled at him. ‘I love you to distraction, too.’

A knock at the front door stopped her turning the page and they looked at each other. It had been a while since a pap had come calling but it was always the first thing either of them thought when a knock sounded.

Quickly, Oliver checked the app on his phone that linked to the camera he had installed at the front door the second they’d returned from Edinburgh. ‘Not a photographer,’ he said, turning his phone around to show Paige.

She frowned at the black-and-white image of a short, stocky woman, a very familiar-looking Border Collie by her side. They were both on their feet and haring down the hallway in seconds, Oliver yanking the door open as he reached it.

‘Casper!’ Paige exclaimed, crouching immediately as the dog pushed between them enthusiastically, yipping and wagging his tail, his butt squiggling in excitement.

The tears that had started at the table came back with a vengeance as Paige hugged Casper’s neck. She buried her face in the soft fur of his head on one side as Oliver buried his face in the other side.

She’d missed this sweet boy.

Belatedly realising they’d been neglecting their visitor, she stood. ‘I’m so sorry, Sheila,’ she said to the woman waiting patiently for the reunion to be over.

‘It’s okay, my lovely,’ she assured as she pulled off her hat to reveal a fluff of magenta hair.

Paige blinked at it, a memory tweaking somewhere in her brain.

‘I hope yer don’t mind,’ Sheila said. ‘But he’s been pining for yer, right terrible. I held on to him for as long as I could, trying to keep me promise to me da. But’ – she gave Casper an affectionate pat – ‘he really don’t like those cats and he keeps escapin’ and I find him trottin’ along the road to St Ives and I reckon Da wouldn’t mind me letting him go knowing how well you two took care of him.’

‘We don’t mind,’ Paige assured quickly, joy in her heart. ‘We’d love it.’

‘Good then.’ Sheila nodded. ‘That’s settled.’

They watched as Casper licked Oliver’s face like he was made of Hobnob crumbs. ‘Reckon he’s found his next forever person,’ Sheila said, her eyes on Paige. ‘Don’t you?’

Paige nodded and smiled. Casper had. And so had she.

* * *

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.