31. Epilogue Oliver
EPILOGUE.
Astor sleeps soundly in his crib.
I watch him with a smile, sitting in the chair beside him.
Cala’s asleep on the bed—by now we’ve learned it’s best she rests whenever the baby does.
My phone lights up, buzzing nonstop. It’s my brothers.
Silas: We wanna see a picture!
Oliver: I sent you one yesterday.
Luca: Exactly. Yesterday. We deserved a new one!
I open the camera and snap a photo of our son.
Killian: He’s so damn adorable.
Luca: Got your eyes, man.
Silas: And Cala’s nose.
I chuckle—everyone says he looks just like her. And honestly, I couldn’t be more grateful.
“What’s so funny?” my wife murmurs, her voice soft and drowsy.
My wife. My lover. My whole damn world.
“Did I wake you?”
“No,” she breathes, half asleep. “I drift in and out. Still trying to process it all.”
It’s been a week since Astor came into our lives and turned our world upside down.
Cala finally agreed to take some help—Angelo comes every morning at six and stays until four. Eliza and Liz lend a hand with the baby when we need a break.
I walk to the bed and lie down beside her, wrapping her gently in my arms—she’s still sore—and bury my face in her neck.
“My brothers asked for more pictures,” I murmur. “Say he’s got my eyes. I’ll take it, since everyone else swears he’s your copy.”
She laughs softly, and right on cue, Astor wakes.
“Feeding time,” I say, lifting him into her arms.
He latches on immediately, small and perfect, and my heart just about bursts watching them together.
“Thank you for making me a father,” I whisper.
“You’ve thanked me a million times already.”
“And the day I stop, remind me,” I say, my voice rough.
“Because you’re the one who made all of this possible.
You pulled me out of that dark hole I was living in and brought me into the light.
I said it in our vows—I didn’t know what living was until the day you walked into my life.
You lit a fire I thought was long dead. You gave me hope again.
You gave me back control. You gave me life. ”
I glance at our son. “And you gave me him.”
Cala smiles, exhaustion lingering in her eyes but joy glowing right through it. She leans in and kisses me, slow and tender.
“I love you, Oliver Walker,” she murmurs. “Don’t ever leave me.”
“I love you, Cala Walker,” I whisper against her lips. “And don’t you worry—I never will.”
The End.