EPILOGUE
Liam
eight months later
Ethel liked me a lot more than she ever liked Owen. I’d never seen a cat play favorites until her, but I couldn’t do a damn thing without her being right there. Owen said it was a good thing—that he and her finally had something in common—while I said it was obnoxious.
Like how she stood between the shower curtains to howl at me while I quickly rinsed off. There was no stopping her. She’d keep at it until I gave her the attention she so loudly demanded.
Shutting off the water, I threw open the curtain and stared down at the large white cat. One paw came up as Ethel tried hard to convince me to pet her.
“You make it impossible to get things done, you know that, right?” I demanded. I grabbed my towel as I stepped out, narrowly avoiding the claws aimed my direction.
Ethel only mewed in response, completely unbothered by my criticism.
If anything, she seemed quite proud of herself for it.
Owen had warned me she was an emotionally manipulative little thing.
While I’d scoffed at that idea at first, I was genuinely starting to believe he underestimated her talents.
The cat had this way of figuring out exactly how to wear people down until they gave her everything she wanted.
Deep down, I was happy she liked me so much, even when it was overwhelming. Her rapid acceptance made it all the easier to blend our lives together. There were just times I wished she accepted me a little less.
I dried off quickly, taking a little extra time to be careful with the fresh tattoo on my chest. The red rose had been my idea, but Owen designed it for me.
It was far more intricate and beautiful than anything I could’ve planned for myself.
Dark ink curled elegantly over my skin, and the petals were shaded so delicately that they almost looked soft beneath the bathroom light.
The experience had been entirely unpleasant with the hours of pain, but the result had been worth every second.
I loved having the reminder of him every time I looked at it.
The moment I opened the bathroom door, loud music from the kitchen spilled down the hallway and instantly pulled a smile from me.
Discovering Owen’s habit of blasting music while he cooked has been one of my favorite surprises about living with him.
He carried himself with so much composure out in the world that I never would’ve expected the man to sway around his kitchen every morning.
It became even more entertaining once I realized he danced as if no one was watching. Not that it mattered. He was an incredibly talented dancer and mesmerizing to watch.
And sure enough, I found him moving gracefully across the tile as he threw together breakfast. Naked.
That had also been a delightful discovery.
The man never wore clothes at home, not that I was complaining. Especially not when the morning light poured through the living room windows and bathed him in golden light. Every twist and turn highlighted his lean muscles in a cascade of shadows and sunshine. I was obsessed with the sight of him.
And it didn’t hurt that he had the penthouse on the twenty-first floor, meaning there wasn’t a single person who could see him in all his naked glory. That was all mine to enjoy.
The volume of the music concealed my entrance, and Ethel wove around my ankles the minute I stopped.
I leaned against the island, smiling as I silently admired him.
His graying hair was mussed up from sleep, and a dark towel had been tossed over his shoulder while he moved between the stove and counter with ease.
His shoulders were relaxed, and his body flawlessly melted to the beat of the music.
I adored this version of Owen—the version that belonged only to me.
The controlled, composed version of him that belonged to the Society had slowly vanished with time.
What replaced it was a man full of warmth and laughter.
The stalker thing didn’t vanish, but I wasn’t upset with that either.
There was something reassuring and comforting about knowing how closely he kept an eye on me.
It was never done with malice or judgment. Just security and concern.
Maybe I should’ve cared more than I did. Maybe it should’ve been a turn-off. But it wasn’t. If anything, it eased my anxiety to know there wasn’t a damn thing I ever had to handle alone. Not if I didn’t want to.
His handsome face lit up when he turned and caught sight of me. My heart stuttered in my chest like it did every time. There was something different about the smiles he saved just for me. His entire face softened with adoration and genuine happiness.
And no matter how many times a day he saw me, that smile never faded. That did something to me. I still wasn’t used to being someone’s favorite thing in the entire world.
“Are you ready?” Owen asked after shutting off the music. The sudden silence was almost disorienting.
“I’m still naked,” I said, intentionally being a smartass. He arched a brow, and that look he gave me was none too impressed. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be to quit my job.”
“You should’ve done it eight months ago,” he retorted softly and returned to the stove.
Owen had pushed hard for me to quit my job after we got together. I didn’t need to work. Not really. He was more than capable of taking care of me, and I knew he would. Whatever I wanted, he was ready to give it to me.
However, the anxious part of me—the part that waited for the other shoe to drop, the part that waited for him to wake up and realize he didn’t want me—needed to keep the job. It was my job. It was the only way I had to support myself if this thing between us didn’t work out.
If.
I kept telling myself if and fought the urge to say when.
As much as I had wanted to believe that this thing between us was permanent, it took a while for my anxiety to catch up.
For my mind to relax as readily as my body had with him.
Convincing him of that had been difficult, but the compromise was for me to move in with him.
If I was going to spend so much time catering to Mr. Jennings’s every whim, Owen wanted the opportunity to care for me in my off hours.
Over time, my anxiety waned. It wasn’t perfect, and there were still difficult days or restless nights where my thoughts spiraled too fast and too far.
Every time they did, Owen met each ugly little fear with impossible patience.
He loved me through every moment without hesitation.
Some days, I struggled to understand how someone like him could want someone like me, but he was quick to reassure me and to show me otherwise.
“If it helps, I plan to just walk into his office this morning and quit,” I continued, purposefully ignoring his comment.
“I do wish I could be a fly on that wall.”
“You could come with me,” I offered. “Take me out for a second breakfast after. There could be mimosas. We could skip the food and go straight to mimosas.”
“What about going straight to Spain instead?” Owen countered.
The question made me frown. Part of my quitting was so that we could travel.
I had a bucket list of places I wanted to go, and some he hadn’t been to yet were added to it.
I had shoveled away every penny I’d earned over the last six months as vacation money—something I could spend on him any chance I got.
As much as he liked to spoil me, I wanted to do the same for him.
Just getting him to let me do so was an uphill battle. The man’s love language was extravagant gifts, lavish dinners, and long sweaty nights all rolled into one as he made me the center of his every moment. I wasn’t complaining, but I also wanted to treat him the same.
“I thought that was next month,” I said.
“I thought we could leave early. I’m dropping Ethel off with Ares once I drop you off at work. I have our private jet squared away, and your bag is packed—though it’s incredibly light because I plan to keep you naked as much as possible.”
I laughed. That sounded about right. Clothes had all but vanished from our relationship unless deemed necessary.
“Why the rush?” I asked. “We could stay another month. I know Ethel won’t mind.”
“I have plans for us, so we need to leave today,” he replied with a shrug.
I kept my expression carefully composed.
I knew exactly what those plans included: an engagement ring.
While Owen was stealthy and careful, his travel agent wasn’t.
She’d accidentally ruined the first one—something about a boat ride in Greece.
I had managed to convince her to keep it from him that I knew, but I wasn’t sure she actually kept that promise.
His sudden urge to drop everything and go to Spain a month early was a good indicator that she probably hadn’t. Whatever new proposal he had planned, I had no intention of ruining it.
“Okay,” I agreed with ease as he set a plate of vanilla cinnamon pancakes in front of me. The plate was piled with fruit and little cups of flavored syrup, just like I liked it. “I’ll let you know when I’m done.”
“Good.” Owen grinned and returned to cooking. His music loudly filled the space once more, becoming a palpable thing in the air that vibrated against my skin.
Instead of eating, I just watched him as my chest tightened with emotions I still struggled to put words to. There were moments like this where I still couldn’t believe that this was what my life had become.
That the man who wanted to be wanted had fallen in love with the man who never wanted anyone. That we’d built a home together. That we were building a future together.
It was a revelation I kept coming back to, and every time it moved me.
When I’d signed up for a fantasy experience with the Society, the most I could hope for was one moment in time where I felt wanted.
I never once expected to fall in love with a man who wanted me so fiercely that it rewrote something deep inside me.
He chose me every day, and he made sure I knew it.
Being loved like that had fundamentally changed me for the better, and I couldn’t imagine life without him.
Ethel jumped up on the island, meowing loudly as she flopped down next to my plate. She offered me her belly in a demand for attention, which I affectionately scratched. Owen immediately spun and pointed his spatula at her.
“Don’t you encourage her, pretty boy,” he said with a scowl.
“She’s literally your child,” I argued. To be honest, she may have been his, but she didn’t listen to a damn thing he told her to do.
“She’s a menace.”
“She gets that from you!”
Owen gasped dramatically as if I’d personally wounded him.
Laughter spilled out of me before I could stop it, and he grinned.
I watched as he attempted to remove Ethel from the island, all while she gave him a piece of her mind.
My cheeks hurt from my smile, and my chest heaved as I laughed at the two of them.
This was everything. This was the life I never knew I was allowed to have.
A future.
A home.
A love so overwhelmingly wonderful that it left me breathless sometimes. And tucked away somewhere in all the luggage Owen had packed was the ring that would make this forever official between us. That thought only made me smile wider because forever no longer felt unattainable.
Not when that forever belonged to Owen.