Epilogue
ETHAN
Iwoke to muffled giggles and the soft thump of little feet padding down the hallway.
Sunlight filtered through the gauzy curtains of our bedroom window.
Callie was still curled against me, her back to my chest, my palm resting instinctively on the gentle curve of her belly where our second child grew.
She stirred when I pressed a kiss to her shoulder, murmuring something sleepy before drifting off again.
Those giggles grew louder, accompanied by the enthusiastic bark of our golden retriever. I smiled into Callie’s hair, breathing her in before I slipped out of bed. Tugging on sweatpants over my boxer briefs, I padded barefoot toward the chaos.
Lily had commandeered the living room while we were sleeping. Blankets were draped over chair backs, and couch cushions formed the beginnings of an epic fort. Our five-year-old stood in the middle of it all in her favorite princess pajamas, her hands on her hips.
“Daddy! Help! The roof is falling!”
I dropped to my knees beside her, laughing as I hoisted another blanket higher. “We can’t have that, princess. We need a strong castle for story time.”
She beamed a smile up at me. Her hazel eyes—so like her mother’s—sparkled with excitement. “With towers! And a dragon!”
“Dragon included,” I promised, draping the fabric while she scrambled underneath to test the structure.
Goldie bounded in after her, his tail wagging furiously. Lily’s laughter echoed off the walls of the house her mother and I had chosen only months before she was born. A Colonial Revival with extensive grounds, far from the sterile penthouse and every ghost it held.
I crawled inside the fort after them, letting Lily climb onto my back as I pretended to be the noble steed defending the kingdom.
She squealed when I neighed dramatically, and the sound was pure joy.
This moment was what I lived for—her small hands in my hair and her delighted shrieks.
The simple miracle of being the father I’d almost lost the right to be.
Callie appeared in the doorway a while later, wrapped in my old Harvard hoodie from my MBA days. The soft cotton stretched over her growing bump as she leaned against the frame, one hand cradling her belly, watching us with that soft smile that still undid me every time.
“Breakfast in the fort?” she asked, her voice still husky from sleep.
Lily scrambled out from under the blankets. “Pancakes! With smiley faces!”
I stood, brushing dog hair off my pants, and crossed to my wife. My hand found hers automatically, my thumb tracing the rings that never left her finger anymore. “Whatever the queen wants.”
She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks pinked the way they always did when I complimented her.
I leaned in, brushing my lips against her temple. “Morning, beautiful.”
“Good morning.”
Thirty minutes later, we ate pancakes cross-legged on the fort floor, Lily chattering about dragons and princesses and getting more syrup on her pajamas than in her mouth. Later, when our daughter finally crashed for her nap, I carried Callie back to our bed.
She laughed quietly as I laid her down, the sound wrapping around my heart like it had the first time I heard it. “You’re insatiable.”
“Only for you.” My hands slid under the hoodie to trace the warm skin of her belly while I kissed her. “Always for you.”
Years had passed since the darkest moment in our marriage. Margot was a name neither of us spoke anymore. I skipped more board meetings than I attended now, delegating until Gage threatened to fire me for being “too happy.”
I knew he was only teasing, but every time I looked at Callie, I knew I’d choose this over any empire.