Extended Epilogue
DUSTY
Five years later.
Flour dusts my forearms as I lean into the dough, working it with the heels of my palms in steady rhythm.
The scent of rising brioche fills my shop—my shop, the one Damian built with tall windows and marble countertops that catch the afternoon light just right.
Each knead pushes air through the elastic mass, and I lose myself in the meditation of it, the simple pleasure of creating something with my hands.
The bell above the door chimes.
"Mommy!"
I spin around, flour exploding from my palms in a white cloud.
Jane barrels toward me, her honey-blonde pigtails flying, followed by Macky's wobbling sprint and Kate's determined crawl-walk hybrid.
Damian fills the doorway behind them, his slate-gray eyes already locked on me with that familiar hunger that makes my stomach flip even now.
"Daddy brought us to see you!" Jane announces, launching herself at my legs and leaving little handprints on my apron.
"I can see that, baby." I brush her hair back, still catching my breath from the surprise.
Macky climbs onto a stool, tiny hands reaching for the cooling racks. "Cookie?"
"Not yet, those are for tomorrow's—Macky, no?—"
Kate pulls herself up using my pant leg, leaving a trail of drool on the fabric as she gurgles something approximating my name.
The kitchen erupts into chaos—Jane spinning in circles, Macky somehow managing to tip over a container of sprinkles, Kate banging wooden spoons against the lower cabinets like drums.
Then Damian's arms wrap around me from behind, his chest solid against my back. His stubble grazes my neck as he buries his face in the curve where my shoulder meets my throat.
"Missed you, little girl." His voice rumbles low, intimate despite the mayhem surrounding us. "Can't wait to get you home."
Heat floods through me. His hands settle on my hips—rounder now, softer—and I feel the evidence of his desire pressed against my lower back.
"Damian." I try for scolding but it comes out breathless. "The kids?—"
"Are distracted." His lips brush my ear. "Been thinking about you all day. That thing you did last night? Been replaying it in meetings."
I bite my lip, turning in his arms to face him. Jane squeals somewhere behind me, and Kate's spoon-drumming reaches a crescendo, but I can only see him. Those crow's-feet at the corners of his eyes, the silver threading through his midnight hair.
"I keep wondering," I hear myself say, "when you'll get tired of me."
His entire body goes still. "What?"
The words tumble out before I can stop them. "I'm not—I've gotten so plump, Damian. Curvy. Nothing like the skinny girl you found that night."
"Stop." His hands cup my face, tilting my chin up until I can't escape his gaze. "You listen to me, baby. You're more beautiful than you've ever been."
"But—"
"No." His thumb traces my lower lip. "You gave me three perfect kids. Built this place from nothing. You're everything I dreamed of and more." His fingers trail down to rest on my waist, squeezing gently. "These curves? They're mine. Every inch of you is mine, and you're fucking breathtaking."