Epilogue
Two Months Later…
Jude
“Areyou ready to attempt your imaginative exposure again?” Christian, my therapist, asks.
I lower my shoulders from my ears and let my body relax into the high-backed upholstered chair. My thumbs stroke along the navy blue fabric, tracing shapeless patterns. I wish Frankie was here. I imagine her sitting on my lap, her hair pressed against my cheek, close enough for the flowery scent to calm me. The weight of her grounding me here. The shape of her ass molded to my thighs. The way she feels while she’s riding me in bed before we start our day.
And now I’m hard.
“I think so.” I cough to clear the hoarseness from my voice. “Yes.”
“Good. I’m going to read the scenario we prepared, and I want you to sit through it. Allow the sensations to move through you without doing your compulsion.”
I nod once.
“Ready?”
“Yep.”
“Okay, let’s begin.” He opens his laptop to the document we wrote six weeks ago and begins to read.
The room is dark.Jack hides beneath his blankets, and I can hear the sound of his scared breaths. Sometimes when it’s late at night, I climb in with him, but the last time Dad found us together, he called me a bunch of horrible words as he hit me. Now Jack won’t let me comfort him until we’re both sure Dad’s asleep because he doesn’t want my punishment to be worse.
One.
A shadow moves beneath our bedroom door as footsteps thunder down the hall. The door flies open, and Dad’s angry face stares at me from the entry. I know what’s coming before he says a word. The resignation I’ve forced myself to feel slithers through my body and begins to block out the fear.
“Which one of you little shits ate the last of your mother’s cookies?”
Jack whimpers, and Dad’s head snaps in his direction.
Two.
“You like hurting your brother, don’t you?” The grin on his face is evil.
He’s across the room in a flash with his hand clamped around my arm as he drags my unresistant body with excessive force. He pushes me into the center of the bedroom and turns my back to the door.
“Strip.”
I drop my cotton sleep-shirt to the floor.
Jack slips off his bed and backs into the corner of the room, covering his ears with his hands as tears track down his cheeks.
Three.
The belt sails through the air, landing with a violent smack across my back. I bite my tongue to keep from crying out and keep my eyes locked on Jack’s.
“I didn’t mean it, please stop!” my brother cries.
The second and third hits rain down on me, but I remain stoic and unyielding. I count the seconds from start to finish, knowing the punishment will end once I finish counting.
Four.
“Please don’t hurt him!”
“Jack, be quiet!” I shush him and squeeze my eyes shut. I count soundlessly to myself as I endure each stroke of the belt.
Jack cries, and the sight of his tears hurts. I might be standing here in his place, but he’s still hurting, and I can’t save him.
Someday, I promise I’ll save him.
I’ll save us both.
My dad lashes me until his arm grows tired, and his palm in the center of my back sends me stumbling away from him.
Five.
I wait until the door to our bedroom snicks closed before I pick up my shirt and crawl back into bed. That night, Jack sneaks between the covers to comfort me.
My hands tremblewhere I hold them against my thighs.
“How high did you count that time?” Christian asks.
I swallow hard. “Five.”
“Jude, that’s fantastic.” He writes something down on his notepad. “You’ve made incredible progress over the past couple of weeks.”
“Thanks.”
“Tell me what you’re feeling right now. You seem to be holding a lot inside at the moment.”
“Weak,” I admit. “I just wish I could make faster progress.”
“You’re already doing remarkably well. This is one of the more severe compulsions I’ve come across, and the fact we’re already slowing down your counting is something worth celebrating.”
I nod and wipe off my palms. “I appreciate it.”
“Anything else going on with you this week before we end our session?” Christian smiles, and I want to curl my lip at the guy. Whatever progress happens in therapy, I’ll never wind up like that. The guy practically shines positivity out of his ass.
“I’m going to propose to my girlfriend.”
“That’s a huge step. Care to tell me about your plan?”
“Not this time, Doc.”
Christian smiles. “Next week, then. You can tell me how it went.”
Later that same night…
Frankie
“Honey,we’re going to be late!” I call as I slip my feet into a pair of black ankle boots. Ashe bumps her head against my knee, leaving a trail of white hairs on my skirt.
“Thank god for lint rollers.” I pat her head and rush out the door.
“Jude?” I call at the bottom of the steps.
“Right here, baby.” His voice comes from the kitchen.
I move that way, dropping my lipstick into my open bag and snapping my clutch purse closed.
“Are you ready? I’m starving. I’ve been working on that new commission all day. I can’t believe people actually want to buy my work.”
A couple weeks after the incident with Dillon, I called Lola and told her I’m staying in Minnesota. She excitedly added my art back to her online shop. Between her boutique and getting my name out around Fairview Valley, I’ve sold one new canvas and I’ve started on another.
As I enter the brightly lit room, the sight of Jude leaning against the counter dries my mouth.
It isn’t like he’s overly dressed, but the man has cleaned up from his usual jeans and tees. The dark wash jeans look brand new and cling to his muscular thighs. He’s switched out his dirty black boots for a pair of brown sneakers that could pass for a pair of expensive dress shoes. His muscular torso is encased in an untucked white button-down, the top two buttons undone to show the column of his throat, and the sleeves are rolled to his elbows.
His head is tipped down, but his eyes watch me enter the room. The look is totally adorable and shy for my usually confident guy.
I stop in front of him and run my hands from his chest to his shoulders. Three weeks ago, my cast was removed. Even though my arm is a little weak from disuse, it feels amazing to touch him with both hands.
“Is this for me?”
Those piercing silver eyes send a flare of heat to my belly. “Wouldn’t dress this way for anyone else.”
“You look sexy.”
“So do you.” He peruses my outfit, from the boots to the olive-green tiered baby doll dress I picked up just this morning. His hands settle on my waist and squeeze. “Maybe we should skip the ceremony.”
I smack him playfully. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“True. It’s hard to have a wedding without the best man.” He pats his breast pocket. “I also have the rings.”
“Then we better get out of here.”
We hustle to the van, and Jude gets us into town in record time. Cars line the street outside Jack and Whitney’s house on both sides. Not many. Enough for the guests of their quiet, intimate ceremony in their backyard.
Jude takes my hand on the sidewalk, and together, we walk into their home.
“You’re here!” Bree greets me and pulls me from Jude’s hold. She tucks a lock of my hair behind my ear. “I love this dress on you! The color is gorgeous.”
“Thank you. Your dress is beautiful too.” I squeeze her hands.
“Everything is ready in the backyard. We’re just waiting on Aiden.”
“How is he?” My throat tightens a little.
Bree flicks her gaze to Jude before returning it to mine. “He’s okay. Corjan says he’s a little withdrawn. He’s working through it.” She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
Aiden hasn’t quite been his usual self since the incident. He was lucky, we both were, that nothing major was hit, but it’s hard not to notice how his smiles look a little more fake each time I see him.
“I hope he’s okay.” I can’t quite keep the guilt from my tone.
Jude squeezes my shoulder.
“If he isn’t, he will be. He has us all to lean on.” Bree’s smile wobbles. She claps her hands. “Anyway! Once he’s here, we’ll get started.”
I tilt my chin over my shoulder. “I guess we should head down.”
His hand settles warmly on the small of my back, urging me ahead of him.
We part for the ceremony. While Jude stands beside his twin brother, I sit in the row of chairs. Aiden sneaks in ten minutes late and slides into the chair on my right.
“Hey,” I whisper as the music starts up.
“Hey.” The corners of his mouth tip up. As time goes on, he reminds me more of the Jude I first met. Day by day, he’s building his walls.
“Glad you made it.”
He drapes his arm loosely over the back of my chair, keeping his eyes trained on the front. He twists the ends of a lock of my hair, then drops it.
“Almost didn’t,” he admits. “Couldn’t let my family down.”
Juniper sweeps down the white fabric aisle in a peachy-pink dress and stands to the left of the archway.
I open my mouth to respond, but the music grows louder, and Whitney descends the stairs from the deck. The white dress swirls around her ankles and showcases her adorable baby bump.
The ceremony is quick, with a few laughs, tears, and heartfelt vows. Before I know it, Jack and Whitney are kissing in front of their family and floating back down the aisle.
Jude doesn’t bother with the march. He appears at my side a moment later.
“Mind if I steal my girl?”
Aiden steps back. “She’s all yours.” He tucks his hands in his pockets and walks away.
I tilt my chin to Jude. “I’m worried about him.”
“I know.” He leans down and kisses me. “We’ll keep an eye on him.”
“Did you need me for something?”
“Come with me.” Jude slips his warm hand in mine and pulls me away from my seat.
We make the short trek back down the aisle until we’re standing beneath the flower arch. Jude sends me into a twirl, and I giggle as the yard spins in my vision. He tugs me back into his chest, and I come to a stop with my palms against his pecs.
The song “Nothing New” by Brandon Lake streams through the Bluetooth speakers Jack had set up. Jude moves us into a slow dance, and my heart begins a wild flutter in my chest as he begins to sing those three little words of the chorus in my ear.
The sound of his deep, rough tone wrapping around lyrics in such an intimate way has tears pricking the corners of my eyes.
And before I can get a hold on it, he sinks to a knee on the ground.
“Oh my god.”
Jude smiles at me with the most beautiful look I’ve ever seen on his face. He takes my left hand in his and pulls a ring from his breast pocket.
“I told you I had the rings.” He winks.
Tremors threaten my ability to stand as my legs begin to shake.
“Franklynn Zelmen.” He blows out a harsh breath and looks away. When he looks back, his cheeks are pink. “I love you. I don’t know exactly the moment it happened, but I fell for you in the place that has brought me peace for most of my adult life. The thing is, it wasn’t actually peace I felt there. It was safety. And it was fucking boring.
“But then you showed up. And your fiery spirit lit up my world. All the dark corners became exposed, and I couldn’t hide them any longer. You make the counting stop.”
A sob crawls up my throat.
“When I’m with you, I now know what peace is supposed to feel like. It’s bickering over breakfast and long mornings in bed and quiet walks with the dogs around the property. And it’s listening to the scratch of your pencil when you draw and your nervous ramblings. I know we haven’t known each other all that long, but I know without a doubt that I want to spend the rest of my life tied to you in all the ways two people can be tied to one another. I want to be your husband. I want to be your best friend. I want to be the father of your kids if that’s what you want someday. I just want you, Frankie. In whatever way you’ll have me. Marry me.”
“Yes!” I gasp through the tears. “Oh my god, yes, I’ll marry you.”
He slips a stunning solitaire diamond ring on my finger. “I love you.”
I lean down to cup his cheeks in my hands. “I love you too.”
Whoops and cheers break out from near the house. Jude stands and turns me in his arms until we face his family lining the deck. He lifts my hand with the new ring and presses a kiss against the diamond before lifting our hands in the air.
“Welcome to my family, Frankie Powell.”