Epilogue
We had survived.
Today was KJ’s first birthday. It was also our first wedding anniversary.
A year ago, I was waddling down a sand aisle in a dress made of starlight. Today, I was five months deep into a different kind of glow, watching my husband; the CEO of the biggest tech firm in the state crawl around on his hands and knees.
KJ was perched on Kasen’s back, gripping his father’s locs like reins and shrieking with a delight that sounded exactly like his sister.
“Faster, Batman!” Serenity yelled from the couch, where she was helping Kori count their haul of candy from the party.
“I am currently a horse, not a superhero,” Kasen grumbled, though he made a neighing sound that had KJ falling over in fits of giggles.
Life had come at us fast.
The last twelve months had been a masterclass in “figuring it out.” We had figured out how to blend two households, how to manage Troy’s periodic bouts of “baby mama drama” with the help of a very united front, and how to run a business while a toddler used our legs as teething rings.
Troy was still Troy—currently navigating baby mama number four or five… I lost count but he had finally learned that he couldn’t mess with my peace.
Kasey and Jonah had finally tied the knot two months ago. Troy’s face when he realized his barber was officially part of the family had been a highlight of my year.
I still had the video.
“Okay, bedtime for the birthday boy,” Kasen announced, lifting a chunky, sleepy KJ into his arms.
“Nooo,” Serenity and Kori groaned in perfect unison.
“Yes,” I countered, pointing toward the stairs. “Teeth. Pajamas. Now.”
When the girls finally headed up and Kasen disappeared into the nursery to tuck in his namesake, I felt the familiar, heavy flutter in my stomach.
I reached into my bag, pulled out my laptop, and set it on the coffee table. I’d been holding this in for weeks, waiting for the perfect moment.
By the time Kasen walked back downstairs, his shirt was wrinkled and he’d lost one of his socks somewhere in the nursery. He looked exhausted, happy, and so undeniably mine that it made my heart ache.
“They’re down,” he sighed, dropping onto the couch beside me. He reached out, his hand automatically finding mine and lacing our fingers together. “One year, Sev. We made it.”
“We did more than make it, Batman,” I whispered, leaning my head on his shoulder. “We won.”
He kissed the top of my head. “I love our life. Even the messy parts.”
“Good,” I said, a mischievous spark lighting up in my chest. “Because I have one more anniversary gift for you.”
He groaned playfully. “Sevyn, we agreed no more gifts. The party was enough.”
“I don’t follow rules,” I reminded him. “Open your laptop.”
He frowned, reaching for the device on the table. “You hacked me again?”
“Just open it.”
He flipped the lid.
The screen flickered, the Czar Tech logo flashing briefly before it was replaced by a custom-coded interface. It was the same anime style from his birthday, but this time, the background wasn’t a city. It was our house.
The animated versions of us stood on the porch. Anime-Serenity had a backpack on. Anime-KJ was held in his father’s arms.
Then, the screen went bright, vibrant neon pink.
Letters began to scroll across the center in a bold, digital font:
PLAYER 5 LOADING...
Kasen went completely rigid.
He stared at the screen, his eyes scanning the words, then the color, then the number.
“Player 5?” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Pink?”
I shifted, taking his free hand and placing it over the swell of my stomach. “KJ needs a sister to protect,” I murmured. “And Serenity needs someone to help her beat you in Mortal Kombat.”
Kasen let out a long, shaky breath and pulled me into him, his face burying in the crook of my neck. I felt the wetness of his tears against my skin, the same way I had on our wedding day.
“A girl,” he choked out, his hand splaying wide over my belly. “We’re having a girl.”
“Another little princess for you to spoil,” I teased, though I was crying too.
He pulled back, cupping my face in his hands, his glasses slightly fogged. He looked at me like I was the sun, the moon, and the entire operating system of his world.
“I got you,” he said, the same promise he’d made me in a movie theater, in a hospital bed, and on a beach.
“I know,” I whispered back.
We sat there in the quiet of our home, surrounded by the beautiful wreck of a birthday party and the bright future of a growing family. The “cyber security guy” and the “Pilates lady” who had accidentally built a kingdom.
And as I looked at my husband, I knew that no matter how many players we added to the game, as long as we were on the same team, we’d never lose.