Epilogue
Nick
Two Years Later
Evie leans against my chest, feet up on the ottoman, as snow falls peacefully outside the cabin walls. It’s quiet nights like this I’m learning to appreciate the most. The quiet life is a harsh transition from chasing down bad guys and dragging them in for money, but it’s so much better.
I rub my hand over her expanding stomach and kiss the top of her head. “How’s our baby Noelle today?”
“She’s starving, though I don’t know if she’s never not starving,” Evie laughs. “I had two rows of chocolate Christmas cookies last night, and she was demanding more before the sun came up. The girl is insatiable.”
“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” I stand from the couch and head to the kitchen, positioning myself in the glow of the fridge light. “What does she want?”
“Oh.” Evie straightens with a smile and stares down at her stomach as though she and the baby are talking via some kind of psychic language. “Yup, I’m getting it loud and clear. She wants a grilled cheese with pineapples, barbeque chips, and a hot fudge sundae on the side.”
“Damn,” I pull out the loaf of sourdough Evie made earlier this week, “and what do you want, Mama?”
She grins. “You know what I want.”
“Well yeah,” my eyes widen playfully, “clearly your book boyfriend would know exactly what you want without you having to tell him.”
“Right.” She grins and pushes herself up from the couch, holding her hand on her back to steady her weight. She’s always beautiful, but the way she looks now, swollen with our baby growing inside of her, beats out every other look she’s had since I met her.
It could be her full breasts, or her puffy nipples, or the milk dripping from her daily, but I gather it’s more. It’s the way her skin is glowing. The way she’s been prepping the house to make everything perfect for our daughter. The way she tucks into me at night with everything I’ve ever loved.
Holding onto my biceps, she tips up onto her toes for a kiss. “So, book boyfriend… what do you think I want?” I love the teasing that’s always in her voice.
“I think you want a back rub, a soft pretzel from the bakery, and an oil change.” I kiss her soft lips and tangle the tips of my fingers in her hair.
“Wow. I’m so glad this delusion never ended. I really need you.” She grins. “I think we should start with the oil change.”
I bend down and scoop my wife into my arms, carrying her toward the bedroom at the back of the cabin. “I agree.”
It’s been two years since I met Evie. To some that might not sound like much, but for me, it was a new beginning. The beginning of a life I didn’t think I’d ever have.
It was a year of dating, of selling my place in Montana, of moving out to Rugged Mountain.
It was a proposal during the spring in a field of wildflowers.
A wedding the following month by an old miners’ church tucked in the valley by the river’s edge.
It was buying this cabin in the hills not too far from town and fixing it up to make it our own.
It was building that little farm stand and finding out my jam is only an acquired taste.
Evie’s pumpkin rolls, though, they’re the talk of the town.
Evie lays back, and I spread her legs, kissing my way up toward her crease.
The light from the Christmas tree in the corner of the bedroom reflects onto her face, and I pause for a moment to take her in.
The soft brown curls that frame her face, her swollen nipples, and that sweet smile that I’ll love until the day I die.
THANK YOU FOR READING.