Epilogue
Today is going to be a good fucking day.
—From Remy’s Badass Bitch Affirmations
Remy
“And the Oscar for best actor in a leading role goes to…Bash Wheatley.”
Remy’s husband jumped up, throwing his hands to the sky, then burying his face in them.
After an emotional moment, he pulled himself together, gave an exalted cry and fist pump, then reached for her, pulling her into his arms and pressing his forehead to hers.
“I love you so much, Arabella Remington.”
“I love you, Sebastian Wheatley. And I’m so proud of you.” She kissed him again, tasting the salt of happy tears trickling from those intoxicating brown eyes that always melted her heart. “Now get up there and accept your Oscar.”
Sebastian beamed at her. Squaring his shoulders, he made his way from his front row seat and…
transformed into Bash. Except, he was also still her Sebastian.
Remy’s heart leapt with joy as she took in the standing ovation that continued as Sebastian practically skipped up the steps and accepted his statue, a look of awe on his face.
“I gotta admit,” he said on a wide grin after the audience took their seats, “this feels fucking amazing. And Oscar is my dream guy. Sorry, Angel,” he teased, winking at her. Remy’s insides did a little happy dance.
Sebastian paused, dropping his chin and collecting himself before lifting his head and finding her.
As he always did. “I first learned about this role almost two years ago,” he began, his deep, sexy voice now scratchy with emotion.
“From that point on, all I wanted, all I could envision, was playing Bram. First, thank you to Walter Pennyrose for believing in me and putting up with my obnoxious campaigning for the role, and our director, Kate, and my incredible costars, who lifted me on their talented tide. I share this with you, though he’s mine to love.
” He dipped the statue into a kiss, laughter rolling through the auditorium.
Silly clown, Remy grinned fondly.
“Unless you live under a rock—which often sounds quite tempting…” the audience laughed, “…you probably know that while I was actively trying to land this role of a lifetime, I met someone.”
Chills erupted on Remy’s arms, her palms still sweating from the nerve-wracking wait to the end of the damn evening to hear Sebastian’s name called. She resisted wiping them on the elegant navy Vera Wang she and her husband had selected for Oscar night during a whirlwind weekend in Manhattan.
“The Paradise that instigated the most amazing time of my life was this movie. But the paradise I found is so much more. It turns out, sometimes the role of a lifetime doesn’t always take place on the silver screen.
And while I’m proud of this dude”—he waved the statue—“I’m so much prouder to be your husband.
I love you, my queen. Arabella Remington, you are paradise to me. ”
Remy wiped her eyes with a tissue handed to her by someone behind her.
Sebastian paused, then, with his impeccable comedic timing, added, “Also, Angel, I think I pulled something in my leg when I ran up the steps here.” He grinned. “Might need you to check it out.”
Remy burst into laughter, blowing him a kiss, her smile coming straight from her battered, scarred, healed heart.
Their late harvest was, indeed, sweet and golden.
What kind of jokes do orthopedic surgeons like?
Oh, anything humerus.
—From Bash’s dad joke collection
PS—My amazing wife, Arabella, loves all my jokes.
Especially my newly expanded surgeon joke repertoire.
Particularly the one I told her just after I gave her a
massive, screaming org—focus, Bash!
Bash
Six months later
In the midday sun, the shady street blazed with the gold, orange, and red of fall leaves. It had taken close to two years to fully design, plan, develop and launch this project.
And today was finally the big day.
St. Dymphna’s executive director, the tiny but fierce Anya, stood on the front porch of what used to be Arabella’s Cape Cod.
“It’s my pleasure to welcome you to the ribbon cutting for the first of five dedicated homes designed to support and help heal survivors of domestic violence.
While there are multiple locations, they go by one name.
And it’s my pleasure to introduce you to the woman who will tell you more. Dr. Arabella Remington.”
His queen stepped forward, beaming with pride, her hair shining almost as much as her smile in the mid-morning sun.
It was a crisp fall day, and Arabella wore a fitted navy velvet pantsuit with a vest he wanted to unbutton later with his teeth.
As for Bash’s outfit, he’d cracked up when Arabella handed him a wrapped box in bed that morning.
Opening it, he revealed a bespoke button-down shirt, like the one she’d memorably torn from his body early in Miami during their first of many F1 weekends.
Arabella scanned the crowd, a proud set to her shoulders. “I am a survivor of domestic violence. Both from my parents and from an ill-advised marriage as a very young and na?ve woman.”
Reporters took notes, though Bash and Arabella had long ago sat with Liam Blum to share her story and promote free resources for people finding themselves in that awful situation.
“It’s only through the grace of two women that I am standing here today.
Without—” She coughed through a sob. “Without them, I believe I would have been a statistic. A name on some homicide detective’s case load.
A victim of violence by my then-husband.
” Arabella took a deep breath. “Tasha and Etta Remington—two amazing women who became a mother and a sister to me—saved my life. In Etta’s case, she quite literally did.
Despite two bullet wounds ravaging her heart and lungs, Etta hung on and was able to alert the police to my abuser’s intention to harm me after he’d discovered I’d left him. ”
Bash leaned into her, lacing their fingers and giving a gentle pump. His queen turned to him with love shining in her eyes and nodded, mouthing thank you.
“Today, we honor their love and their selflessness by opening Remington House. This was my first home here, and represents the haven where I discovered the love of my life and the best friends imaginable.”
The women of the Red Wine Supper Club cheered loudly and applauded from their designated front row section just beyond the porch, with Lila emitting an impressive wolf whistle that danced above the crowd, generating a wave of laughter—the loudest coming from Lila’s husband.
On a wink, she mouthed to Arabella, ‘It’s not wise to fuck with us’—the frighteningly accurate motto of Remy’s fearsome, formidable friends.
After this was over, Lila was hosting a small celebratory gathering, where Bash was quite certain, both red and white wine would freely flow.
“Remington House is a celebration. It bears the name of two strong, fierce women who loved deeply and unconditionally. They changed my life. And now other lives will be changed for the better, because of them and because of the deep compassion of my husband, Sebastian.”
Arabella dipped her head, touching a tissue to the corner of each eye. “Sebastian, my liege man of life and limb, you also have changed my life in a way that leaves me awestruck every single day.”
“And that’s just my good looks, bad jokes, and charm, right?” Bash inserted, unable to help himself.
Arabella rested her head briefly on his shoulder, chuckling. “I’m grateful to share life with you. And, as an orthopedic surgeon, I’m also quite fond of your limbs.”
Now Bash bellowed a laugh. Funny wife.
“Thank you for coming to me with the idea to not only preserve the important work of St. Dymphna’s, but to expand it so we can meet survivors where they are. You’re helping to carry on a critical, necessary legacy. Thank you, my love.”
Arabella turned in his arms, brushing her lips against his. And, yep, there was his horny damn cock wanting to get in on the Arabella action.
Later, guaranteed. And many times over.
Anya stepped forward—along with the mother and little girl Bash had met on his first visit to St. D’s.
The woman had successfully sued for divorce and was awarded full custody.
Her ex-husband was in jail, where he’d spend the next several years—though not long enough, in Bash’s strong opinion.
Regardless, both mother and child had blossomed, and Bash experienced deep pride that his own professional success had contributed in some way to the outcome.
Together, they, plus Arabella, cut the ribbon.
“Now, please join us on guided tours,” Anya added.
“Just a moment please.” Bash checked his watch, then stepped up to the bank of microphones twined on the plexiglass podium featuring a sign with the new Remington House logo designed by Geneva—a talented graphic designer and artist.
Arabella darted a confused look at him. In response, Bash grinned and winked. He’d been keeping a secret—a very special one—and it was finally time to reveal it. And thank God, because he’d been bursting at the seams to tell her. He almost wanted to glue his hand over his mouth, just in case.
“My beautiful wife has shared a bit about the amazing Tasha and Etta Remington this morning. In particular, she highlighted Etta’s sacrifices on her behalf—facing down a homicidal evil man and protecting her best friend.”
Bash inhaled a steadying breath. Now that it was finally go-time with his big surprise, he was ridiculously nervous. He envisioned what he hoped would be Arabella’s reaction and plowed on.
“I’ve often wished I could hug them both—thank them for loving my queen and my mate until I could find her. For keeping her safe.”
Now Bash choked up. “Etta Remington had indicated on her license that she wanted to be an organ donor. When the time came to make that decision, Tasha—devastated and facing something no parent should—supported that selfless gift. In the wake of her own loss, Tasha honored Etta’s huge, giving heart by agreeing to donate Etta’s organs.
Two individuals in kidney failure received lifesaving kidney donations.
Etta’s liver was split in two, with the larger lobe going to an Army veteran and the smaller lobe going to a young girl whose only dream was to play soccer with her friends.
Etta’s corneas restored sight to two people—a mother, who now had the opportunity to watch her daughter walk down the aisle, and a high school baseball player who took a one hundred mile-per-hour pitch to the orbital bone.
Now? He holds his school’s record for home runs. ”
Nell blew her nose, burying her face in Geneva’s shoulder, her new wedding ring set glinting in the sunlight.
Next to him, Arabella wept silent tears.
“Etta Remington may be gone in one way, but she lives on through the gift of organ donation. I’d like to invite my special guests to come forward.”
Etta’s beneficiaries stepped onto the porch—each of them enfolding Arabella into their arms one by one.
Bash was unsuccessful in choking back his tears. “Ladies and gentleman,” he motioned to the house, to the organ recipients, and—most importantly—to his queen, “Tasha and Etta Remington’s legacy. And Arabella Remington, thank you for the role of a lifetime.”
He checked his watch again. Twelve forty-five. Who said people with ADHD couldn’t pull shit off?
Bash caught Arabella’s beaming, watery smile, blowing her a kiss with a small bow. “Happy anniversary, my magnificent queen.”
THE END