Epilogue
Sophie
One Year Later
It’s not every day your best friends get married.
Over the past year, we have dedicated numerous days and nights to construction, building homes along the coast. Specifically, three homes: one for Bo, another for Mimi and Dante, and the last for Zeke and his beautifully large family.
All Courtney had to do was hint that she wanted to stay with us, and Xavier spent six months making it happen, adding an extension to the house just for her.
The land he bought while he was still running an empire is vast—a private retreat we can be ourselves in.
Today, the tools have been set aside for flowers, linen, and lace. Courtney is finishing the final alterations on Mimi’s wedding gown while Delli oversees the kitchen with Dao, one of Mimi’s friends from the school where she has recently started volunteering.
An hour ago, Xavier took Isabella for a stroll to find more hibiscus flowers to complete the wedding arch that our friends will be married under.
And Bo has spent a good portion of the day unable to tear his eyes away from Dao, lingering near the kitchen even though he can’t cook; however, when I ask him for help outside, he comes right over. “What do you need?”
“I need you to hold this ladder so I don’t fall on my ass.”
“Are you insane, woman?”
“Do you want to do the arrangement?” I grin, climbing a few steps. “Just hold it.”
Stuffing branches of leaves between various wildflowers, I try to secure the draped satin that flipped in the wind.
Mimi loves flowers, so she’ll have the best damn wedding arch imaginable.
Zeke should be back any minute with the minister he drove two towns over to pick up.
His kids are running wild, chasing after any insect they can find.
We hear Isabella giggling excitedly across the field. I smile as I watch her wave two handfuls of orange and red flowers. “We found some!”
Bo gasps as Isabella rushes to the ladder, dropping them on the ground so she can run to play with the others. “Good job, Izzy!”
“Yeah, no ,” I hear Xavier call out disapprovingly behind me. “Get down from there.”
Bo grins as he heads toward the house, leaving me to deal with the overly protective man already reaching out to assist me. “Before you go off the handle, X, she insisted.”
“Gee, thanks, Bo.” I'm adjusting empty spaces on the way down. “Just let me?—”
“No,” Xavier says before I’ve even finished.
I look down at my husband, smiling madly.
Xavier Marcello ruled a suit, but this—tan slacks and a dress shirt that dances in the breeze—is something completely different.
Maybe it’s the years the sun has gifted him, softening the sharp lines of his face and illuminating his eyes, which were once shadowed by fatigue.
His tousled curls are windblown, framing a face that constantly astonishes me .
Whether we’re washing dishes after dinner or when he’s completely unguarded in sleep, I find myself staring, still not used to having him within reach. A year has flown by, and I still wake up expecting to turn over in a compound in Iceland. It makes every moment sweeter.
With outstretched arms and open hands, Xavier gestures for me to come closer. I lift my sundress to prevent tripping and descend, breathless, when my feet never touch the ground.
Giddy, I wrap my arms around his shoulders as he carries me bridal-style back to the house. His gaze falls on my swollen belly. “The doctor said to rest, Sophie.”
“I'm very rested.” I nip at his throat. “ Too rested.”
His laughter fills the air, a wholehearted sound that was once unfamiliar. “Keep that up. I’ll induce you into labor.”
“I'm fine with that.”
“And miss Dante’s wedding?”
Damn . With a resigned sigh, I concede, resting my head on his shoulder as Xavier climbs the steps into the house. He gently places me under the shaded porch, cupping my face in his hands and dipping his head to kiss me.
I hear the slam of a car door.
Dante is striding toward the house, arms stretched wide, matching the massive grin on his face.
“I’m getting married today!”
“ Push !”
The doctor, kneeling on the ground, spreads my legs wider as I scream through powerful contractions that are rolling into one another by now.
Releasing my grip on the birthing stool, I collapse, the back of my head molding to Xavier’s chest. My head rolls in exhaustion, not sure how I’ll manage another.
It’s going to break me .
Xavier wraps himself around me, unable to suppress gasps of fear as he kisses my overheated skin over and over again. “You’re doing so good. You’re almost there, baby. Almost there.”
“ Push !”
I grip his forearms, tensing up even as the doctor instructs me to stop, unable to control a damn thing. It’s excruciating . “It hurts. Oh, God, it hurts!”
At times, when nerve endings send me into unmitigated agony, and I can’t catch my breath, I'm pulling Xavier’s hands off me, trying to brave through it alone. Focus. Endure as my body splits open.
Just as often, I’m screaming, begging for it to end, pleading for his arms to hold me again, terrified I'm going to die.
Writhing, I gasp, scream, sob his name.
“Xavier. Xavier. I can’t. I… I can’t!”
His arms envelop me in a protective embrace, whispering words that anchor me and urge me to summon the strength to keep going.
In a rare moment of candidness, my mother once shared a painful truth to me: my father was absent during my birth.
He lingered outside, sharing that moment with his father, eagerly waiting to smoke a celebratory cigar.
One haunting thought lingers in my mind—she was relieved he wasn’t there.
In her anger, she said she spent the entire ordeal cursing his name.
Yet, amidst this chaos, Xavier emerges as my sole lifeline.
I’ve spent years wishing for this moment, praying it could somehow happen, that my mind never turns against him, needing him to help me to the end.
“ Almost there! Push !”
I never imagined it could get worse, yet here we are. My scream is so powerful that it becomes silent, my vocal cords unable to create a sound that matches the turmoil inside me.
“ The head is out! One more push should do it ! ”
The pain is so excruciating that I am rendered speechless, unable to think of anything but powering through.
Just one more second.
One more.
One.
Xavier buries his head in my shoulder, his body trembling alongside mine as I push through the final unbearable stretch, crying out at the moment of release.
A sharp cry echoes through the room. This small corner of the world comes alive with a rare, lovely sound.
The doctor raises her hands, her eyes shining behind the mask, as she brings our baby to the table for cleaning. I’m too weak to sit up, so Xavier takes charge, leaning in to kiss me over and over, his cheeks marked by tears.
“Oh my God, Sophie. Oh my God.”
The doctor presents our child with a blue blanket.
“You have a beautiful baby boy.”
An image flashes in my mind as she bends down to put him in my arms. A hospital room where I once lay, crying my eyes out, mourning the piece of Xavier I thought I’d lost forever. The pain from that time in my life eases the moment his weight settles into my arms.
A profound, indescribable emotion overwhelms me—one I’ve never felt before.
This is our baby. He has tufts of dark hair and tiny hands that flail until I gently guide them with my fingers, and his body starts to naturally ease into my warmth.
With the last bit of strength in my arms, I bring him to my face and kiss his splotchy skin. “I’m here. I'm your Mamma.”
Shifting my position, I smile, encouraging Xavier to cradle him. My heart leaps when we complete the transfer, amazed by the significance of what has just occurred… who we are now holding. An extension of ourselves. A fragment of us that will live forever.
“Oh, Sophie. ”
Xavier thoroughly loses himself, instinctively covering his mouth with his hand as his gaze tenderly falls upon our child, filled with deep, protective love.
Our hearts swell together in this moment, united by an unspoken bond.
Isabella dashes through the door, followed closely by Courtney and the rest of our found family.
She runs up to Xavier, desperate to glimpse her little brother’s face.
She’s been nestled against my belly for months, thrilled to finally have someone to play with.
I stroke her copper braid while smiling.
“Say hi, Izzy. Say hi to Thomas.”
Courtney circles the couch to kiss my head, just like she has all of my life. “I'm off to bed, darling.”
“Let me walk you.”
“I'm not that old yet.”
She gently caresses the tiny bundle in my arms, smiling as Thomas blinks tiredly, wrapped in the hand-knitted feeding blanket Dao gave us. “He has Xavier’s eyes. You can see the green coming in.”
I smile and lean against him, delighted when he makes a contented sound and tilts into my kiss. Months have passed, yet I'm still captivated by him, finding it hard to believe he’s mine.
“You started to glow after you came here,” Courtney says, staring between us. “You haven’t stopped since.”
The house took time to transform into a true sanctuary, but gradually, we filled it with cherished memories.
Family and friends’ photos cover all the walls.
I frequently find myself lost in thought, imagining that imposing mansion in upstate New York or his father’s Manhattan penthouse, reflecting on the fleeting moments of the past that we can never relive.
Our existence has been erased by now, a new overlord ruling the streets in Xavier Marcello’s place.