Epilogue 1 Kat
If I thought I was prepared for Valentine’s Day as the object of Henry Sinclair’s affection, I was sorely mistaken.
We’ve spent most of the morning wrapped up in each other, with breakfast in bed quickly devolving into more sordid activities involving pancake syrup, followed by a shower to rinse away the stickiness.
This, obviously, also devolved quickly into debauchery.
We finally stopped for brunch before collapsing lazily back into bed.
Sighing, I stretch myself out like a Kat who’s got the cream, and honestly, that’s how I feel lately.
Although we’ve just passed our four-month anniversary, it feels like we’ve been through at least a year’s worth of married life.
Henry has proven himself to be my perfect partner again and again, and I still can’t believe that this beast of a man who would kill for me is also such a big softy, walking toward me now with two mugs of steaming hot chocolate.
“Don’t you dare think of doing anything sexual at all with the whipped cream on these drinks, mister.
I need at least an hour break before you try anything again,” I tease, accepting the quick kiss I’m given as he sits down with me on the edge of the bed.
At some point, he’s dressed himself in his usual outdoorsman attire, and I consider that I might be ready to go again in thirty minutes.
With a quirk of one eyebrow, he sets a timer on his phone for one hour and then winks at me.
I’ve told him that his winks should be outlawed for inciting sexual eruptions, which of course means he now winks at me all the time.
Sipping our hot chocolate, he finishes first and rubs my feet while we enjoy the quiet of the afternoon.
“Thank you for not making me leave the house for Valentine’s Day. Or much at all, lately. I promise I’ll be ready soon—”
“Katarina.” He interrupts. “We will continue onwards at a pace dictated by you and your therapist, darling. I promise you I am not in any rush. You know exactly where I stand on this.”
And I do. When we returned home after everything happened, I had a…
minor breakdown, you might say. I became obsessed with security, making Henry show me all the cameras, all the redundant backup cameras, all the dummy cameras, and the software that would fool even the most experienced hacker.
We hired full-time staff to monitor them and the alarm system, and our suite of rooms has its own code that changes regularly, so that if a door opens, I know it can only be Henry.
I knew deep down that I was going slightly overboard, but I didn’t think it was irrational.
Henry agreed, but when I started refusing to leave the estate, then the suite, he suggested perhaps we should talk to someone.
That’s how Dr. Benedict came into our lives.
She specializes in post-traumatic stress disorder after home invasions and has helped me tremendously.
Apparently, my upbringing put me at very high risk of being negatively affected by the attack, and I attribute an unhealthy amount of comfort to maintaining my own space, since it’s all I’ve ever had any control over.
I’ve recently been able to visit Margot and Sloane, which was especially nice, considering I don’t think Margot will make it much longer carrying the twins.
Smiling at Henry, I agree.
“Yes, I do know where you stand,” I say quietly, which is the truth.
He doesn’t begrudge me our time at home.
In fact, he seems to relish it. But equally, he refuses to let me sink in on myself and become a hermit.
This is why he and Dr. Benedict have me following a plan to systematically get out more and more.
But I haven’t been ready to leave our little reclaimed love nest to travel or vacation extensively yet, and he’s been patient with me.
Giving me a soft smile, he pulls me to my feet and sets my empty mug on my nightstand.
“Let’s go for a walk and stretch our legs after our lazy morning. Maybe fuck against a tree,” he says, kissing my temple. “I’ll go grab a picnic basket with some snacks and a blanket.”
As we wander farther from the house, I notice that we’re taking a familiar route, winding around toward the greenhouse. I tense slightly, not really wanting to see it, and Henry stops, blocking my path.
“I know it doesn’t hold fond memories for you right now,” he says quietly, rubbing my upper arms in a very soothing massage.
“But I’ve done some renovations, and it doesn’t look quite the same as it did before.
Will you take a look at it and see how different it is?
If you don’t like the energy or you don’t want to go in, we don’t have to. ”
Taking a fortifying breath, I nod. I’ve had nightmares of Linda kidnapping me and bringing me to the greenhouse, dark and pulsing with sinister vines of evil plants.
Dr. Benedict says that because the plants grew here, and I associate them and death with Linda right now, it makes sense to be a foreboding place of peril in my dreams.
Henry moves from blocking me and takes my hand, leading me around the final curve to the clearing where the greenhouse…
was? It’s not there anymore. At least, there is a greenhouse, but it’s not the old one that’s been haunting my nightmares.
This is a glass architectural dream, reminiscent of a larger version of the orangery from my childhood home.
I’m immediately at peace, and none of the negative energy I was worried I would feel is present.
Leading me inside, Henry shows me the replanted species from the old greenhouse before assuring me all of the harmful plants have been completely eradicated.
He moves us to a back corner where a swing sits facing west, and we watch the sunset as he pulls out the finger foods he packed earlier.
Polishing off the entire basket, he surprises me by pulling out a much smaller box, just as the sun is setting.
Tears fill my eyes as I realize what I’m almost certain it contains.
“Henry…” I whisper tearfully.
He says nothing, but as he meets my gaze, I see that I’m not the only one emotional at this moment.
“You,” he says so softly, I can barely hear him, “are the greatest gift that I have ever been given, and the one I was least expecting. It’s unfathomable to me that someone got so close to taking you from me.” His voice cracks, and he stops, head bowed before taking a deep breath and continuing.
“I know that legally, we’re married, but I want…
” He stops to clear his throat before continuing in a stronger voice.
“I want you to have your dream wedding, whatever that looks like, in front of only our families, people who matter…although I suppose if you want to invite two hundred people to this one as well, I won’t stop you. ”
He laughs as he moves to one knee and opens the tiny blue box he’s been holding. Inside is a dainty gold wedding band half-encircled with diamonds.
“Your engagement ring is your mother’s, and I would never presume to replace it.
Plus, you don’t like to wear it too often since it gets in the way of your shenanigans as you gallivant around here and cause mischief,” he says, giving a watery laugh.
“But I would very much love to give you something shiny for everyday wear.”
Looking up, he finally asks me the question that has him so emotional he’s trembling, ever so slightly.
“Katarina, I love you, and I want to give you the world. Will you do me the honor of marrying me again, by your own free will?”
I can’t help but laugh at that, giggling before reaching down and holding Henry’s precious face in both my hands.
“Yes, you romantic man. Yes, I will marry you. Of my own will,” I squeal as he stands, picking me up off the bench and spinning me around.
The gorgeous ring fits perfectly onto my finger as he places it, matching the gold of his wedding band.
I can barely tell it’s on, and even though during my daily activities I usually don’t wear jewelry, this won’t bother me at all.
Finally stopping his spins, but not putting me down, he kisses me until I’m breathless, then gives me the goofiest grin I’ve ever seen on his face.
“Well, Mrs. Sinclair. Let’s plan a wedding.”
It’s early April before my plans come together, and my tiny wedding is finally upon us.
We waited for Margot and Sloane to each give birth, although I don’t think any of us expected them to go into labor on the same day.
I thought Blanche would faint from joy the day all three babies were born.
The funniest part of the day was watching Jack and Ledger sobbing, holding their own daughters, then swapping to hold each other’s, then panicking as they tried to remember who was who.
Of course, Margot and Sloane had both put the girls in coordinating outfits, so the risk of baby swap was low.
Now, a knock on the door tells me that Ivan is here.
“Come in,” I say, smiling when I see how handsome he looks in his suit.
We’ve been spending more time together, bonding over trying to sort through the family records in the Taranov archives that Pavel had neglected for years.
It was hard to hear about my mother from him, and both of us cried over how much we missed her.
But it’s been healing as well, and I think before long it’ll be natural to call him Dad.
He’s already given me more love than Pavel ever did.
And I can’t imagine anyone else walking me down the aisle today.
“You look absolutely stunning, Katarina. I’m so proud to be on your arm today,” he says, kissing my cheek and wiping a tear from his eye. “I actually have something for you, as I was recently informed you’re missing something blue.”