Epilogue
LEVI’S POV
“Claire,” I call out, tossing my folded shirts into my suitcase. “Have you packed yet?”
“Not yet,” she calls back, and I hear the door at the bottom of the stairs open. “I’m waiting for my laundry to be done.”
I glance at the watch on my wrist before shutting my bag and walking down the stairs, closing the bedroom door behind me. Claire is standing at the foot of the steps, her eyes staring at her phone. “Are they in the wash or the dryer?”
“Neither. Mom hasn’t started it yet.”
“Claire, you can do your own laundry.”
She huffs, shoving her phone in her pocket as she spins on her heel and turns the corner, heading towards her bedroom.
I shake my head and make my way into the kitchen, seeing Marlowe standing at the counter as she mixes something in a bowl in front of her.
I walk up behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist and kissing her neck before resting my chin on her shoulder.
“Hello, my beautiful wife.”
We had gotten married two years ago now, a small, intimate ceremony with just our closest friends, my aunt and my cousins.
We had flown out to Montana and had the ceremony in my aunt’s backyard, and the ranch hands came over for what would’ve been the reception.
Claire had stayed on the ranch for a week after the wedding as her mother and I went on our honeymoon to Greece.
When we returned, Claire asked if she could spend the entire summer on the ranch, so Marlowe and I had flown home.
She has spent the last two summers in Montana with my family, and watching them love her as much as I do is something that always chokes me up. Claire seems to have found a feeling of home out there, which is why we were making this impromptu trip to visit again.
I finalized the paperwork and sold my company two weeks ago now, and Marlowe talked extensively with Kirstin about helping her possibly find a new assistant. We were officially heading to Montana to look at houses.
“Hello, husband.” She sets the spoon down and wraps her hands over the top of mine. “I hear Claire expected me to do her laundry for her. I forgot how difficult the teen years can be.”
“I think you’re doing great,” I tell her, pressing my lips to the soft spot behind her ear, drawing a breathy sigh from her. “Let’s keep our fingers crossed it doesn’t get any worse.”
She laughs, her body shaking against mine. “Oh, baby. It’s definitely going to be worse. Just wait till she’s sixteen.”
“I’m sorry, sixteen?” I nuzzle into her neck. “She’s not growing up anymore, remember? She’s staying this age forever.”
“You really want this stubbornness and push back forever?”
I hesitate and mull over that question. “Okay. Can we just skip to like twenty? That should be gone by then, right?”
“Would you say I’m stubborn?”
“We’re doomed.”
She laughs loudly, picking up the spoon to continue stirring the contents in the bowl in front of her. I hear something dragging on the floor and glance up, catching Claire’s reflection in the glass as she pulls her hamper into the laundry room.
“Do you know if she’s heard from her father?”
She shrugs, spinning around in my arms and looping hers behind my neck. “I don’t think so, no. At least she hasn’t told me if she has.”
Travis was released on parole a few months ago.
Marlowe had received a letter from him at work a week after we were made aware, but he hasn’t attempted to get in touch otherwise.
Sometimes, when I was walking down the street, I swore I could feel someone watching me.
I hadn’t hid my concern from Marlowe when we first got the news, wanting nothing more than to keep my girls safe and away from him.
But as the months have gone by, her concern has ebbed, so I’ve tried to keep mine in check.
“Good.” I dip down and press my lips to hers. “Is Claire going to Ellie’s tonight?”
“I don’t believe so.” I groan and drop my head into her shoulder. “You’re the one who told her she couldn’t stay at a friend’s house the night before we travel.”
“I’ve changed my mind.” I kiss her neck again, my hands cupping her waist so I can lift her onto the counter. Marlowe moans quietly, the sound causing my dick to stir. “Call Joe. I need you to myself, at least for a few hours.”
Her legs wrap around my waist. “A few hours, huh? And what do you plan on doing with all that time?”
“Get me alone and find out.”
“You guys remember I can see you, right?” I lift my head and turn towards the noise, seeing Claire standing in the entry of the kitchen with her hands covering her eyes. “I thought you promised not to do that when I was home anymore.”
Marlowe gently pushes my shoulders, and I step back, giving her space to slide off the counter. “I’m sorry, honey. Is your stuff in the washer?”
“Yes. Is the coast clear?”
“It’s clear,” she responds with a roll of her eyes.
Claire drops her hands and walks over to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water before turning back to us. “Are Cole and Blue coming with us this time?”
After the whole revelation four years ago, Cole spent some time in rehab before investing in therapy.
By the time he felt ready to date again, JJ had already found someone new and gotten engaged.
Cole was extremely happy for her, and they’re still close friends to this day.
She and her fiance spend every holiday with us, and we often make it a point to go out once a month.
About a year ago, Blue finally admitted to Marlowe that they had hooked up while they were with other people.
It was actually post hookup that Cole learned Marlowe’s father and sister had died in the car accident that night.
They finally admitted their feelings to one another and have been dating for about seven months now.
“Nope, it’s just us this time.” Marlowe walks over to Claire, putting a hand on her shoulder. “We figured the fewer opinions we got while house hunting, the better. Now come on, let’s go pack what we can.”
I watch as they exit the kitchen, the bowl of what appears to be the start of brownie batter forgotten on the counter.
Grabbing the spoon, I finish stirring it for her before I grab a pan, pouring the contents into it.
I slip it into the oven and set a timer, then head into the living room to watch some television.
Claire joins me about half an hour later after she moves her clothes into the dryer.
She rests with her head on my shoulder as I turn on our favorite show, New Girl.
We laugh together at our favorite moments, enjoying the time together.
Even though she’s getting older and acts like she’s embarrassed by us in public, Claire still acts like that little girl I met five years ago who loves to cuddle and paint my nails.
After the fifth episode ends, I glance up into the bedroom but don’t see Marlowe. Tilting my head back, I strain to look into the kitchen but don’t see her in there, either. My brows furrow as I reach for my phone, but don’t see anything from her.
“Where’s your mom?”
“I don’t know,” she tells me, sitting up and pulling out her phone. “Figured she would’ve joined us a while ago. Want me to go look for her?”
I shake my head, pushing myself off the couch. “I’ll go find her. You can keep watching.”
Claire grabs a pillow and lays down on her side, grabbing the remote and clicking on the next episode.
I check the kitchen once more and come up empty before heading down the hallway to Claire’s room.
The door is closed, so I knock gently, only opening the door when I’m greeted with silence.
Finding it empty, I check all the rooms on the bottom floor before heading upstairs.
My studio is also vacant, the painting Marlowe has been working on resting in the middle of the room on the easel. I spin on my heel and walk into the bedroom, noticing her suitcase laying on the bed with her clothes strewn around it. Turning, I notice that the bathroom door is closed.
“Lowe? Are you okay?”
I hear the water turn on and run for a few seconds before it shuts off. “You can come in.”
Reaching for the handle, I push the door open and my eyes immediately land on Marlowe. She’s leaning against the closet door, her eyes glassy and arms folded. I close the space between us and pull her against my chest, one arm wrapping around her waist while the other cups the back of her head.
“What’s wrong, baby?” I grab her face with both hands and pull her back so I can look her in the eye. I brush away a lone tear that escapes her eyes. “Why are you crying?”
Her eyes drift over to the countertop before she looks wordlessly up at me. I raise a brow and glance over my shoulder, finally noticing what I had walked past. Turning, I walk up to the counter and my eyes grow big as I realize what I’m looking at.
Sitting before me are four different pregnancy tests.
Four positive pregnancy tests.
“You’re pregnant,” I whisper, spinning around to look at Marlowe.
She shrugs, her arms hanging at her sides. “I’m pregnant.”
A smile erupts on my face, hurting my cheeks as I close the gap between us. I wrap my arms around her waist and lift her up, spinning her in a circle. My heart is beating so fast I feel like it’s going to burst, and goosebumps have surfaced on my skin.
She squeezes me tightly, crying into my neck as I sway her from side to side. I slowly slide her down my front, my hands landing on her hips as I rest my forehead against hers. She laughs, the sound wet from her tears, but her smile mimics my own.
“We’re going to have a baby,” I whisper again in disbelief.
“Yeah,” she breathes, nodding as she pulls back to look up at me. “We’re going to have a baby.”
I bend down and crash my lips to her, a little more forceful than I had intended, but excitement is pouring out of me. She cups my face in her hands and kisses me back just as fiercely.
“You’re happy?”
“Are you kidding me?” I shake my head as I tuck the loose tendrils of her hair behind her ear. “I’m the happiest man in the world, Lowe.”
She releases a shaky sigh before she chuckles again. “I thought you’d be worried about becoming a dad at thirty-nine.”
“Baby, I became one at thirty-five.” Another tear slips down her cheek, and I brush it away with my thumb. “I’m ready to be wrapped around another girl’s finger.”
“We won’t know if it’s a girl for a couple months,” she tells me, humor lacing her voice.
I press a kiss to the tip of her nose. “Trust me, it’s a girl.”
If someone had told me ten years ago that I’d meet the love of my life, and that it’d take another five years for me to find her again, I would’ve told them they were crazy.
But I’ve always believed everything happens for a reason, and I know, without a shadow of a doubt, I was destined to fall in love with Marlowe Reyes.
At the end of the day, I don’t want to love anyone else the way I love her.
Except our children.