Epilogue
Sadie
Six Years Later
So much has changed over the last six years, yet in many ways, nothing has changed. We still live in the same massive home with our beautiful daughter, Stacy. She has eight amazing fathers who dote on her constantly.
It is no secret who her biological father is, because she is a spitting image of him.
I am the only one who has seen the official results, but they all know that Lance is the biological father.
None of them cares, but they use it as a way to blame him when Stacy is being sassy.
Although they also blame most of her sass on me.
They’re not wrong. Now, I just have a little mini me to help me sass the guys.
After Stacy was born, I had my tubes tied.
Before the guys had guessed who the biological father was, Lance, Dean, and Mason went back to redo their vasectomies after their old doctor messed them up.
The others followed suit and got a vasectomy.
They all made sure to get rechecked in a year to make sure they were still sterile, so there was no chance at all of me getting pregnant.
As a whole, none of us has wanted to bring in anyone else to the dynamic. No one could ever possibly fill the void that Stacy’s death left us with. I still have nightmares of her death, but having the guys close by helps.
Shortly after Stacy was born, I made a passing comment that I wished there was a way we could all sleep together in the same bed.
Little did I know, they took me seriously.
I went to visit my dad with Stacy, and when I came home, they had put four king-sized beds together in the basement and turned the entire place into one big bedroom.
Everyone still has their own space to retreat to, but it’s basically just a giant office space upstairs.
I turned the master bedroom into my own mini library, and I have a kids’ section just for Stacy now.
There are a lot of rumors that the guys are closer than they let on, but nothing has been confirmed or denied. The guys have definitely grown much closer over the years, but how we spend our time together in the bedroom is not a topic of conversation.
We still have our weekly games, only now we have a tenth player.
Stacy loves getting out there with us. Watching her grow into this beautiful and intelligent person has been the biggest blessing I could have ever asked for.
She is truly the light of our lives, and I can’t wait to meet the person she becomes.
I used to keep myself in a box. The loyal friend.
The devoted daughter. The quiet victim. The things that kept me safe…
Kept us safe. But lines blur when you stare at them long enough, and I’ve been staring for years.
I told myself I imagined it—the tension, the hunger, the way their hands linger just a second too long.
Now every glance feels like a promise. Every touch feels like a warning.
Every breath pulls me deeper. But this isn’t just love.
This is obsession. This is temptation. This is our unholy devotion.