Epilogue
The late morning sun spilled across the wide wooden planks of the back porch.
I sat in a cedar rocking chair, pushing my feet gently against the floorboards. The rusted springs beneath the seat creaked. A warm, late-spring breeze drifted across the manicured lawn, carrying the scent of blooming jasmine and fresh earth.
I looked down at the delicate weight resting against my chest.
Rose was fast asleep. She wore a soft, butter-yellow cotton onesie, her tiny fists curled tightly against her chin. She smelled of warm milk and the faint sweetness of baby lotion.
I raised my hand, my finger trembling slightly with sheer awe. I traced the flawless curve of Rose’s cheek. Her skin was warm, completely untouched by the suffocating warfare that had preceded her birth.
“Look at the sunshine, little one,” I whispered, marveling at the perfect eyelashes resting against her skin. “You’re so safe here.”
Rose shifted slightly in her sleep and settled deeper into the crook of my arm.
I leaned my head back against the solid cedar slats of the chair. I closed my eyes, letting the golden warmth of the sun wash over my face.
Six months had passed since the night the Bordeaux Room imploded.
The frantic chaos of those early days had slowly dissolved, replaced by a simple permanence.
The house was entirely mine, secured by a brand-new deadbolt on the front door.
Outside, the security cameras remained active, quietly guarding the perimeter.
But the threat they were installed to monitor had entirely evaporated.
My mind drifted to the ivory-colored envelope resting on the kitchen counter inside. The final divorce decree had arrived in the mail two days ago.
The legal battle had been a merciless slaughter. Julian Sinclair had brutally revealed all of Marcus’s lies. The financial reality of the marital waste left Marcus with no way out.
Faced with the prospect of actual poverty, Marcus had made the exact choice I knew he would make.
He signed a settlement waiving all custody and visitation rights, granting me sole legal and physical control of Rose.
In exchange, Julian had agreed to slightly reduce the cash payout Marcus owed the marital estate.
He’d gotten to walk away with just enough money to secure a tiny, miserable apartment on the other side of the city. Last I’d heard, he and Sylvia were still living there together. How laughable.
I opened my eyes, staring out at the vibrant green grass of the backyard.
I didn’t feel a single ounce of pity for either of them. He was gone. Sylvia was gone. They were trapped in a cage of their own design. Rose and I were safe.
A sudden mechanical whine sliced through the quiet morning air.
The noise came from the detached garage sitting at the edge of the driveway. The wooden doors were thrown wide open, exposing the organized chaos of a professional woodworking shop. The shrill pitch of the table saw held steady for ten seconds before the machine abruptly powered down.
The blade spun to a halt, the mechanical hum fading away.
A moment later, Hayes emerged from the shadows of the garage.
Wearing a faded gray T-shirt and work jeans, he wiped fresh sawdust from his thighs with a rag. He tossed the cloth onto a workbench and headed toward the porch. Time hadn’t dulled the physical reaction my body had to him. If anything, the steady safety he provided only deepened the pull.
Hayes climbed the porch steps, bringing the scent of raw pine and warm skin with him.
He stopped in front of the rocking chair, his eyes dropping immediately to the baby.
The protective intensity he always carried softened completely.
He reached out, his calloused fingers gently smoothing the soft fuzz of Rose’s hair.
Then he looked at me, bracing his hands on the wooden armrests and leaning down to box me in. When he pressed his mouth against mine, he tasted of black coffee and morning air. I tilted my chin up, kissing him back, my hand coming up to grip his forearm.
He pulled back just an inch. “She’s out?” he whispered.
“Just fell asleep,” I murmured.
Hayes carefully slid his hands under Rose, supporting her neck and lower back to lift her from my arms without waking her. She let out a tiny grunt of protest. But the second she settled against the broad warmth of his chest, she melted right back to sleep.
“I’ll go put her down in the nursery,” Hayes said softly. He looked back at me, a slow heat building in his gray eyes. “Go wait for me in our room.”
The promise in his voice sent a rush of warmth straight to my belly. I smiled, stood up from the chair, and walked inside.
I bypassed the kitchen and headed up the stairs, my bare feet silent against the hardwood.
When I pushed open the door to the master bedroom, the space felt entirely ours.
The overly pretentious aesthetic Marcus had favored was gone, replaced by Hayes’s heavy wood furniture.
On the nightstand, the baby monitor hummed with low white noise.
I shoved my shorts to the floor, stepping out of them and kicking them aside. Pulling the tank top over my head, I tossed it onto the dresser. I was left standing in the center of the room in nothing but pale pink underwear.
The heavy sound of Hayes’s boots echoed in the hallway. The brass doorknob turned, and Hayes stepped inside. He reached behind his back to click the door shut. His eyes swept over me, and his jaw flexed. The hunger in his expression threatened to undo me.
My postpartum body was undeniably different. Faint silver stretch marks mapped my hips, and my stomach was softer. But there was nothing wrong with that.
I looked at the silver lines and the curve of my belly with a quiet pride. My body had survived months of stress, carried my daughter through the fallout, and brought her safely into the world. And the same way Hayes had loved me when I was pregnant, he loved me now.
I didn’t wait for him to come to me. I crossed the room, grabbed the collar of his T-shirt, and pulled his mouth down to mine.
Hayes groaned, his arms wrapping tightly around my waist to pull me flush against him.
The rough denim of his jeans scraped pleasantly against my bare thighs.
I kept my hands fisted in his shirt, walking backward to guide him toward the bed.
He followed willingly, his tongue sweeping into my mouth, kissing me with a heavy heat.
When the backs of his knees hit the mattress, I broke the kiss and pushed his chest. Hayes dropped backward onto the edge of the bed, catching his balance on the duvet. He pulled his T-shirt over his head and tossed it aside, his bare chest heaving as he looked up at me, letting me take the lead.
I stepped between his knees, popping the metal button of his jeans and dragging the zipper down. The rasp sounded sharp over the hum of the baby monitor before I dropped to my knees on the hardwood floor, pushing his jeans and boxers down his thighs.
Hayes sucked in a sharp breath, his hands curling into the bedding.
I leaned forward, wrapping my hand around him, and took his cock into my mouth. Hayes threw his head back and hissed under his breath. “Fuck, Elena.”
I focused entirely on him, swirling my tongue around his shaft. I took him all the way into my throat, reveling in the sounds of pleasure he made. My jaw was starting to hurt, but I didn’t care. The rush of bringing this man to the edge of his control was like a drug.
His fingers tangled in my hair, holding on as his hips began to chase my touch. But I needed more.
When his breathing turned harsh, I pulled back. Hayes let out a frustrated breath, opening his eyes to glare down at me with blazing demand.
I stood up. I hooked my thumbs into my pale pink panties, stepped out of them, and tossed them aside.
“Lie back,” I told him.
Hayes didn’t hesitate. He quickly kicked off his boots, shed his bunched jeans completely, and shifted his weight, swinging his legs up and lying flat on his back in the center of the bed.
I climbed onto the mattress after him. Bracing my hands on his chest, I swung my leg over his hips to straddle him and slowly sank down.
A breathless gasp escaped me as I took his cock all the way into my body. Hayes’s hands instantly went to my hips, his fingers digging possessively into my flesh. “That’s it,” he murmured under his breath. “Take what you want, baby.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. I lifted my hips and slid back down, as hard as I could.
Hayes gritted his teeth, his hands flexing against my skin. He matched my rhythm, thrusting upward to meet my descent. The bedframe creaked as I rode him, pursuing the pleasure only he could give me. Heat pooled low in my belly, and I dragged my fingernails lightly across his chest.
“You’re so perfect,” Hayes rasped. “You own me, Elena.”
I leaned forward, planted my hands flat against the mattress on either side of his head, and increased the pace. The tension coiled tighter inside me with every aggressive slide of our bodies.
Sensing I was nearing the edge, Hayes took over. His hands tightened on my hips, pulling me flush against his chest. With a sudden, powerful twist of his body, he rolled us across the mattress.
The room spun in a blur of sunlight and charcoal fabric. My back hit the mattress, the duvet absorbing the impact as Hayes caught his weight on his forearms.
He settled heavily between my spread thighs, pinning me to the bed. The sudden shift in angle drove him impossibly deep. I cried out, my hands flying up to grip his shoulders.
Before I could catch my breath, he locked his arms on either side of my head and started to move. His hips snapped forward, pushing the friction past the point of no return. Over and over, he thrust inside me, until I no longer knew where he ended and I began.
“Hayes!” I sobbed. “Please, Hayes!”
Hayes crushed our mouths together, drowning out my cries with a mind-melting kiss.
Just like that, I fell over the edge. My pussy tightened around his cock.
He let out a harsh sound, driving forward one final time and holding still.
His frame shuddered against mine as he poured his release into me, his breathing wrecked.
In the aftermath, Hayes collapsed against me, burying his face in the crook of my neck. I wrapped my arms lazily around his back, my fingertips tracing his spine. “I love you, Elena,” he whispered. “So much.”
“Me too. More than I thought I could.”
The silence of the bedroom returned, accompanied only by the soft hum of the baby monitor. I pressed my lips against the scruff of Hayes’s jaw and closed my eyes, finally breathing in the absolute peace of the life we had built.