Epilogue
JACKSON
Eight Years Later
“Please join me in welcoming award-winning fashion designer Isabelle Carter!”
A loud round of applause erupts from the audience, and a proud grin forms on my face as I watch my wife—my beautiful, amazing, and talented wife—walk up to the stage and take her seat for her interview.
That’s right; I get to call Isabelle my wife, and every day, I wake up feeling so blessed that the woman I’m so deeply and madly in love with said yes to spending the rest of her life with me.
Isabelle’s gaze meets mine, a twinkle shining in her gorgeous brown eyes.
“Isabelle, welcome to The Michelle Anderson Show!” Michelle beams. “It feels like only yesterday when I was interviewing you for Sparkes Magazine.”
“Time really flies,” Isabelle says with a laugh. “Thank you for having me, Michelle.”
“My pleasure,” Michelle replies. “So … Designed by Isabelle started as an online business, and today, you have several boutiques across the country, you’ve made appearances at various fashion shows, and you’ve also won several awards.”
Pride fills my chest at Isabelle and everything she’s achieved over these past eight years.
“It’s definitely surreal, looking back at how far we’ve come,” Isabelle says. “I’m grateful for the support of my whole team, as well as my family and friends.”
“And actress Gracelyn Pierce was seen wearing one of your dresses for the premiere of her new movie, The Game of Love,” Michelle continues.
“Yes. We worked with Grace to design a custom dress for her movie premiere,” Isabelle says. “It was an amazing experience, and Grace was lovely to work with. My husband and I got to attend her movie premiere last week, which was so much fun.”
My husband. Possessiveness rushes through me every time she refers to me as that. I’ll never get tired of hearing her say it.
“That’s fantastic!” Michelle beams. “Speaking of your husband, he’s sitting in the audience today, and he’s wearing a T-shirt that reads Come and Support My Wife’s Business.”
The camera shifts toward where I’m seated, and I flash a small smile.
There’s a dreamy expression on Isabelle’s face as she speaks. “He always loves showing up to support me in a custom-designed shirt. Eight years ago, when I hosted my first-ever fashion show, he wore a shirt that said TEAM ISABELLE, and he made my friends and family wear one as well.”
I remember that day like it was only yesterday.
Isabelle achieved one of her biggest goals, and since then, she’s continued to reach milestone after milestone.
Her hard work, passion, and dedication are only some of the many things I love about her, and she inspires me to be a better man, husband, and father every single day.
“And now he gets to upgrade to a special My Wife T-shirt,” Michelle jokes.
“That’s right.” Isabelle grins. “Now he gets the Wife T-shirt and the wife package.”
Michelle laughs. “I love that. And who would you say is your biggest inspiration?”
“There are so many people,” Isabelle answers.
“But if I had to pick only one person, I’d say my husband.
My first pregnancy was a challenge, and I felt like I’d lost my creative spark.
But after our first child was born, Jackson really encouraged me to pick up sewing and designing again, and I’m so glad he did.
He’s incredible, too. He works as an architect, and seeing him chase after his dreams inspires me to want to be the best I can. ”
Her words make me feel all warm and fuzzy.
After leaving Carter Marketing Solutions, I eventually found a job as a consultant for an architecture firm and then went to study architecture at Columbia University.
I’m now working at one of the top architecture firms in New York City, and I get to work in a job I’m truly passionate about.
One day, I think I’d like to open my own architecture firm, too.
If my career change has taught me one thing, it’s that it’s never too late to chase after your dreams or start something you love.
“I love that!” Michelle gushes. “Okay, now let’s talk about your latest collection …”
I watch the rest of Isabelle’s interview, my full attention on her. I’ll always support her, no matter what.
Applause bursts from the audience when the interview’s over, and the moment the cameras stop rolling, Isabelle’s eyes lock with mine. Feeling like a teenager sneaking out of class, I stand and weave my way through the audience and over to Isabelle’s dressing room. Her door is already open.
“What did you think of the interview?” she asks.
“I loved it so much, baby,” I say, shutting the door after me. “You did so well.”
“I always end up rambling every time I do an interview,” she admits.
I walk over to her and caress my thumb along her bottom lip. A rosy blush taints her cheeks. Although we’ve been married for six years now and together for eight, she still sometimes acts like a shy schoolgirl when she’s around me.
“Not at all,” I say. “I love how genuine you are and how you’re not afraid to share both the ups and downs. And I love how passionate you are about your work.”
“Yeah?” she breathes, her gaze shifting to my lips. “What else?”
“And I love hearing you call me your husband, Mrs. Carter,” I murmur before locking lips with her, focusing on the taste of her soft lips against mine and the feeling of her silky satin dress against my hands.
When we break apart, she lets out a content sigh.
“I’m excited for Dominic’s fifth birthday tomorrow,” she says, referring to Aaron and Jen’s son.
“Me too.” I chuckle. “He’s really a younger version of Aaron.”
Several days after Isabelle’s first-ever fashion show eight years ago, Aaron officially asked Jen out on a date, and the rest is history.
The four of us are as close as ever. Isabelle and Jen even got pregnant around the same time and shared similar pregnancy cravings.
“Definitely a mini Aaron,” Isabelle agrees. “And then we’re having Ivy’s family come over on Sunday, too. It’ll be a big weekend.”
Ivy went to therapy to work on the insecurity and resentment she’d harbored over the years, and she’s in a healthy relationship with her now husband.
The journey Isabelle and Ivy went through to repair their relationship took some time, but they’re in a good place now. Same thing for Isabelle and her mom.
As for my family, it took me a lot of therapy to process Mom and Andrew’s affair and the revelation that I’m his birth son.
Andrew quit his job at Carter Marketing Solutions shortly after I resigned.
I’m not sure where he’s at now—I haven’t maintained any relationship with him.
As for Mom, my contact with her is limited.
I’ve accepted what happened and she’s been remorseful, but I don’t know if I’ll ever completely forgive her.
It wasn’t easy, but therapy also helped me with overcoming my belief that I always needed to have everything figured out or that I couldn’t lean on others. Now, whenever I have bad days, I don’t feel like a burden anymore for letting Isabelle take care of me.
“It’ll be great,” I say, giving Isabelle a smile. “Ready to head home?”
She smiles back. “Always.”
“Yay! Mommy and Daddy are home!”
As Isabelle and I enter our home, our two daughters—Francesca and Josephine, who are aged five and four, respectively—race toward us in their pajamas, large grins plastered across their faces.
Anna, who’s babysitting them tonight, trails behind them.
“Hey, kiddos,” I say, giving them both a hug. “Have you been causing any trouble for Anna?”
“Nope!” Francesca and Josephine chirp in unison.
“Not at all, Uncle Jace,” Anna adds. “Chesca and Josie have been great.”
“Thanks for keeping an eye on them, Anna,” I say. “We really appreciate it.”
“Of course.” Anna beams. “I love spending time with them.” She turns to Isabelle. “Aunt Isabelle, how was your interview?”
Anna turned seventeen and started her first year of fashion school recently. When she had gotten old enough, Isabelle had taught her how to use a sewing machine, and since then, Anna further cemented her dream of wanting to become a fashion designer.
“It was great!” Isabelle says. “It was so much fun.”
Francesca turns to Isabelle, stretching out her arms. “Mommy, I want a hug from you, too.”
Isabelle pulls her into a hug. “Of course, honey.”
Josephine wraps her arms around her mom and sister. “I want a hug from Mommy as well!”
Isabelle laughs, her beautiful eyes crinkling with delight. “Let’s do a group hug then.”
As Isabelle interacts with our daughters, I can’t help but smile. I’m so proud of our little family and grateful to be Francesca’s and Josephine’s father. Pulling out my phone from my pocket, I take a photo to capture the moment.
“Mommy, can you please make another dress for me?” Josephine asks, a twinkle in her eye. “I want it to be yellow and have flowers. Pretty please?”
“Of course, darling,” Isabelle assures her.
“Yay!” Josephine cheers. “You’re the best!”
I clear my throat, pretending to act like I’ve been left out. “What about me?”
Josephine grins at me, revealing dimples on her cheeks. “You’re the best, too. You’re both the best in the world!”
We all laugh at her words. Simple moments like this with my family are when I’m at my happiest.
“I should get going,” Anna says, grabbing her coat and backpack.
Isabelle pulls Anna into an embrace. “Thanks again for looking after the girls tonight.”
“You’re welcome.” Anna says farewell to me and Isabelle and then gives Francesca and Josephine a wave. “Bye, girls. See you next time!”
“Bye, Anna!”
“Let’s get you ready for bed,” Isabelle says to our daughters when it’s just the four of us. “Last one in bed is a rotten egg!”
Giggles fill the air as Francesca and Josephine dash to the bedroom they share, and Isabelle and I follow closely behind.
I adjust a strand of my wife’s long hair. “Once we’re done here, I’m taking you to bed,” I murmur in her ear.
Isabelle blushes while Francesca turns around, a frown on her face. “Hey! No whispering!”
“Sorry, Chesca,” I say with a chuckle.
“You’re forgiven,” she replies matter-of-factly.
Isabelle and I spend the next half hour tucking our daughters into bed and reading one of their favorite bedtime stories. Once they fall asleep, we head to our master bedroom and get ready for the night.
“I feel like taking a bath tonight,” she says, her eyes shining with a mischievous sparkle. “We haven’t tested the bathtub out since moving to this house.”
“Great idea,” I agree.
She looks at me with puppy eyes. “Join me?”
“Is that even a question?”
Isabelle laughs. “I’ll set us up then?”
“I’ve got it,” I say. “You’ve had such a long day already.”
Her lips curve into a smile. “Okay. I’m going to take off my makeup.”
As Isabelle reaches for her cleansing balm and a cotton pad, I light up two of her favorite jasmine-scented candles and set up the bath, adding a few drops of lavender essential oils.
“All ready, Mrs. Carter,” I say when I’m done.
“Thank you.” Isabelle bites her lip. “Help me undress, too?”
I flash her a cocky grin. “Did you think I’d forget about that?”
Isabelle gives me a playful eye roll. “Nope.”
She stands in front of me, her fruity and floral perfume lingering in the air as I unzip her dress and take it off. I love how she still adores the same perfume after all these years.
Her dress drops onto the bathroom floor, pooling at her ankles. Her underwear and bra are the next to go. I brush her hair to one side, placing a kiss on the nape of her neck, my lips tracing her delicate skin. She moans softly, her head tipping back.
I watch, mesmerized, as she turns around. She’s so beautiful. Every time I look at her bare body, I think of how incredibly breathtaking she is.
I won’t ever cease to let her know that every inch of her is perfect.
“Get inside the bathtub,” I murmur.
She smirks, then does as I said.
I start getting undressed as well. “Is the water temperature okay?”
“Yes, it’s perfect,” she hums, watching me. “There’s enough space for both of us, right?”
I join Isabelle inside the tub and take my place opposite her, my mind racing with all the things I’m going to do to her inside this lovely bathroom fixture.
Another playful grin sits on my lips. “I think it just might be … a perfect fit.”