Epilogue
CELINE
Seven Years Later
Ilook up from my snowman, almost done, at Julian and Damian as they hide behind a mound of snow, waiting for their chance to strike. Tommy–named after my father–and Lila creep along the path, snowballs in their hands.
Tommy raises his eyebrow at me, and I giggle, then point to where Damian and Julian are hiding. Tommy nudges his little sister, and she leans against him. They whisper amongst each other, which makes the air fog with their breath: planning their attack.
I add the finishing touches to my snowman as I wait for the show to begin.
We first stayed out here almost ten years ago, when I didn’t know if my husband and my brother were going to return… and, if they did, if Julian would ever give us his blessing.
Since then, life has been one glowing adventure.
Tommy and Lila, Damian leaving the mob and starting a protection business, with me climbing up the ladder of the nursing world.
I never could’ve dreamed this. Now, I can’t think of life any other way.
Damian stands, snowball in hand, my tall, handsome man with a thick silver beard, his hair longer than it used to be. He’s still wide and tall and so powerful he makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
And he still brings the Beast out at night, when we’re alone, making me shiver all over like every time is our first.
Damian tilts his head in confusion. Julian follows.
I laugh as Tommy and Lila leap out from their hiding places behind the tree, showering their dad and uncle with snowballs. Damian chuckles, shaking his head, snow fluttering all around him.
The kids run over to them. Damian scoops up Tommy, and Julian scoops up Lila.
“Mommy, we did it,” Tommy says, laughing.
I wink, heart filled with joy, sparkling like the star at the top of a tree. “I’m proud of you.”
Damian winks at me. “Something tells me you tipped them off, beautiful.”
I giggle. “Guilty as charged.”
“Have you made your grumpy snowman, Mommy?” Lila asks.
Damian smiles at me, and I know he’s remembering the first time we built a snowman, mouth turned downward. It’s become a tradition for us to build one every year—a reminder of where we came from, a reminder to never stop being thankful for everything we have.
“What’d you think?” I ask.
Tommy clambers down from his father’s arms and runs to me, wrapping his arms around my hips. “It’s perfect, Mommy. Everything’s perfect.”
Lila waves her arms. “Best Christmas ever.”
Julian smiles. “You say that every year, sweetheart.”
“It’s always the best Christmas ever, Uncle Ju-Ju.”
Damian wraps his arm around me—my Grinch, my Beast, my everything. He kisses me tenderly on the cheek. “Couldn’t agree more.”
THE END