Epilogue 2
Ryder
Ten months later
I heave a deep breath, and I shut the bedroom door behind me, massaging my temple to relieve the unrelenting headache throbbing there. Though, I’d take a million headaches over the hopeless feeling that stabs me in the gut when I picture my son’s solemn features on the other side of this door.
That’s what Dominic is to me, my son. It doesn’t matter that he isn’t my blood or that I’ve only known him for a year now. I love him just as fiercely as I love my daughter.
And it kills me that he isn’t doing well.
Most of the time, he loves seeing his aunts and uncles, but since they came to town late last night to celebrate Thanksgiving, he’s been in a black mood.
We went to Moreno’s last year but didn’t do much celebrating because the loss of his mother was so fresh, but my now-six-year-old isn’t taking the holiday season well.
He’s developed anger issues throughout the year and—though martial arts has helped to some degree—there’s not a lot we can do but be patient, work with him, and keep taking him to Dr. Danver.
Today was a particularly rough day—complete with him throwing a toy straight through the living room window.
He felt guilty afterward and offered several apologies to Rachel. We were mostly able to de-escalate the situation and have a pleasant remainder of the evening, but this isn’t the type of progress we’ve been hoping for.
Dr. Danver says his ability to recognize his actions and apologize is a good sign, but that doesn’t make the situations any less exhausting, and I try to handle them to give Rachel a break. On days like these, guilt weighs on her as if it’s her fault Dominic’s mother isn’t here anymore.
Now that Dominic and Lyla are sound asleep, I make my way down the steps of our house to where Moreno, Elli, and all her brothers are already sitting around the living room with their drinks of choice.
My Rebel sits on the edge of the couch, vodka martini in hand, and an empty spot beside her reserved for me. I plant a kiss on her forehead before moving into the kitchen to make myself a drink.
I could use one.
I’m deciding what I want when soft hands wrap around my waist from behind. I hadn’t noticed how rigid I’ve been since tucking the kids in, but just her touch is enough to ease the tension.
She pulls me closer, pressing her cheek to my back. “Thank you,” she murmurs.
I turn so I can hold her in my arms, too. “For what?”
“Handling everything with Dom today,” she says, dropping her eyes to the floor. “Sometimes I wonder if we’re doing the right thing.”
I lift her chin so I can stare into the eyes I fall more in love with every day. “We are. His other options were the foster care system or moving away with people he barely knew. We’re doing everything we can.”
She nods. “I know you’re right. It’s just hard some days.”
I can agree with that.
“Do you ever wonder if being here is too much for him?”
“What do you mean?” I ask, trailing my fingers over her delicate cheekbones.
“I mean, he seems to do alright when we spend holidays in LA or Chicago, and I wonder if Sacramento reminds him too much of his mother.”
I’d never thought about that, but now that she mentions it, it seems likely.
“That would make a lot of sense.”
“Then so would moving to Los Angeles.”
At first, I think I haven’t heard her right.
Could she be saying what I think she’s saying?
“You mean—”
“I think it’s time to say yes.”
I stare into her eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation or wariness, but there is none. She means it.
Every time I see or talk to Moreno, he always accompanies his goodbye with an offer to take back my position as his underboss.
Every time, I thank him and decline.
In the year it’s been since I made that decision, I haven’t regretted it once. It feels right to be in Sacramento, especially now that I’ve taken over all of Knox’s responsibilities.
But if Rachel is right, and moving the kids to give Dominic a fresh start is what’s best for him—for all of us—then I’m sold.
“Are you sure about this?” I ask. “Because if any part of you isn’t, then we shouldn’t—”
She cradles my face between her hands. “I’m positive. It’s time for us to move to Los Angeles. We can move into Elli and Moreno’s neighborhood, put the kids in a new school system, and find them a martial arts studio. We can make new memories and—”
I cut her off by lifting her into my arms and spinning her around. Rachel’s laughter draws attention from the others, but I couldn’t care less.
“I love you so much, Rebel.”
She dips her head down to take my lips with hers as she murmurs, “I love you, too.”