Epilogue
PASCAL
Five Years Later
Forestville was packed with summer tourists, but inside the library, it was still nice and quiet.
And cool, thank goodness. We’d had an unprecedented heatwave, which made me grateful for the AC in the library.
Back home, we had to make do with fans, so I relished being able to spend eight hours at work.
I was shelving books in the Young Adult section when I heard familiar voices approaching. Looking up, I saw my daughters making their way through the library, their backpacks slung over their shoulders.
“Dad!” Malinda called out, rushing over to hug me. At fifteen, she was already as tall as I was. Her sister Kira followed more slowly—she was the quieter of the two.
“Hey, girls.” I hugged them both, breathing in the familiar scent of their shampoo. “What brings you in?”
Malinda rolled her eyes at me, something she was an expert at. “The AC, of course, duh. Do you have any idea how hot it is in my bedroom?”
“About as hot as in mine, I would guess,” I teased her.
Kira adjusted her glasses. “We also need new books. We finished the ones we got earlier this week.”
I chuckled. They were both voracious readers, just like Stanton and me. “Go browse and make sure to check out the cart with the new arrivals. There are a few romantasy books there that I know you’ll love.”
They headed toward the fantasy section, already deep in discussion about what to read next. My heart swelled watching them. Even after all this time, I sometimes couldn’t believe how lucky we were.
Five years had passed since that night at Safe Space when I’d almost ruined everything by making assumptions.
Now, Stanton and I were married, and we had not just two but three daughters.
Malinda and Kira—who were biological siblings—had started as foster kids four years ago, but it had quickly become clear they would be with us to stay.
We’d gotten lucky since both girls had fully embraced us as parents after a difficult start with their biological mother.
Though they still had traumas, they were doing well.
Katie, our thirteen-year-old, had joined our family eight months ago, and while the adoption wasn’t set in motion yet, we all knew she wasn’t going anywhere.
Her mom had already signed the papers to relinquish all parental rights, knowing Katie was much better off with us. We couldn’t wait to make it official.
The farmhouse was fully renovated now, and it was everything we’d dreamed of. Stanton had worked hard to make it perfect, upgrading to some modern conveniences while maintaining its old charm. The result was wonderful.
Once the house was done and the kids had arrived, we’d slowly added animals.
We now had two horses—though I suspected we’d soon have to add a third one for Katie—sheep to keep the grass short, chickens that gave us all the fresh eggs we could eat, and Sam, a golden retriever Stanton had trained himself as a therapy dog.
“You’re doing that thing again,” Malinda said, returning with an armful of books.
“What thing?”
“That dreamy smile when you think about Papa.”
To solve the problem of what to call two dads, the girls had come up with the solution of calling me Dad and Stanton Papa. We both loved it.
I laughed. “I wasn’t thinking about him specifically, but about how much I love our life…about how grateful I am for our beautiful home and our amazing kids.”
She grinned. “We are pretty awesome.”
Yes, they were. And so was the man I’d married. Speaking of which…
“Your father’s picking you up in half an hour for your riding lessons,” I reminded them. “Better hurry with those books.”
Life wasn’t perfect, but it was perfectly ours. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Thank you for reading Wooing the Librarian!