Epilogue
EPILOGUE
SUFFOLK COUNTY, NEW YORK
One Year Later
I stare down at the lines on the test before asking the house, “Any words of wisdom?”
Kids are the one topic Ethan and I haven’t touched on in the year since we’ve reconciled. Like he promised, he and I started from scratch. Openly dating, we ate at some of Centerport’s finest restaurants, danced at their festivals, and strolled hand in hand along the beach.
And because I never wanted to fall into the trap we ended up in, Ethan agreed to counseling. When I broached the subject with him, he was reluctant at first. That is until I played my ace card and said, “The woman holding your hand in this picture would never have allowed you to get to a place where you felt like you were nothing but a liar. The woman who wants to hold your hand for the rest of your life wants to make sure you’ve made peace with it.”
He called the counselor the next day, not me.
I didn’t just participate in our joint sessions. In my own individual sessions, I learned how to handle the loss of my mother in a healthy way and identified when it’s okay for me to break a promise so I don’t end up devastated or being the person to bring about destruction. I also now acknowledge what triggers will set me off about what Ethan did to destroy us the first time around, despite my forgiveness having been granted due to the work we put into our joint sessions.
Ethan attacked his therapy much like he did a black hat. In learning he could only control his actions, he needed the tools to control his reactions when they were outside his control. He also accepted he needs to be more forthcoming—particularly with me. Most importantly he accepted it’s okay to be emotional—particularly over loss. Not only was he grieving the loss of his mother, he grieved the loss of the man he knew his father to be. One night, while we were lying in bed, his eyes were welled with tears as he wept over the senseless loss of his childhood.
I explained, “You didn’t lose the memories, E. You just lost how you perceived them.”
He pulled me tightly against him, holding me in place for a long period of time. “So, it wasn’t all a lie.”
I shook my head. “I think for that, you’d have to talk with Paige and Jesse to get their perspective.”
So he did. Due to those talks, he, his brother, and his sister are closer than ever. As for me and Austyn, dynamite may have to blast the two of us apart, even if she does needle me about becoming her “Aunt Fallon.”
One of these days. Not today. I glance down at the test results. “And depending on how Ethan reacts, who knows if that will ever happen.”
Instead of flipping out, I use the tools from therapy to consider how I’m going to tell him. “Ethan, there’s something we need to talk about…”
Nah, it sounds too cold. Too clinical. Then I snap my fingers. “Maybe I’ll take him down to the beach!”
It’s on those walks that we get into some heavy discussions. Maybe that’s why the first time we slept together months after we reconciled, we forgot the condom. That or the fact that I had just baked a cake and placed it proudly in the center of the dining room table.
I swear I did it subconsciously because Ethan and I were coming back for dessert at my house, but we never left to have dinner. Instead, he rucked up the back of my dress, grabbed hold of my panties with his teeth, and dragged them down my legs.
I didn’t worry about it too much. After all, Ethan pulled out before coming all over the cheeks of my ass.
But the little lines on my test tell me I should have been a bit more concerned. “What the hell am I going to tell him?”
Then, as if I conjured him, he is leaning against the open door jamb. “Tell who, what, witch?”
I don’t even hesitate. Lies are an absolute non-starter between us. Instead of trying to find the right words, I just hand him the test and remain sitting on the toilet with my pants kicked into the corner as I wait for his reaction.
It doesn’t take long.
He flings the test over his head into the hall and reaches for me. Hauling me up, he plops me down into the center of our vanity. His hands clasp either side of my face before he plunders my mouth with his tongue. He murmurs, “Undo my pants, baby.”
Suddenly, needing my man’s cock inside me sounds like the perfect way to celebrate our impending parenthood. Breathlessly as I work at the tab and button, I remind him why he’s dressed in a suit, “You have that meeting in the city.”
He groans before reaching into his suit pocket. Pressing a button, he tucks the phone against his chin. He doesn’t waste a second before he rips open my shirt and quickly unhooks the front closure to my bra. I let out a moan when his hands wander to my sensitive breasts. “Yeah, Sam. You’re on your own. Why? Fal just found out she’s pregnant.”
He grins down at me lecherously before he rubs the head of his cock through the juices of my soaked pussy, knowing he’s on the phone and I’m spread before him like a damn sexual buffet. I hear Sam’s voice through the phone before Ethan says, “Damn right, I’m not going anywhere,” and then ends the call.
Much like my pregnancy test, his phone lands somewhere in the hall. Then Ethan thrusts inside me in one slow, smooth glide. My arms and legs wrap around him. Breathlessly, I manage to ask before I’m incapable of thinking, “I take it you’re happy?”
He cants his hips forward and I feel his cock grow inside of me. “Happy? Witch, I’m not certain I’ll ever be this overjoyed again.”
A little over six months later, Ethan realized he was wrong. That was when our identical twin daughters—Helen and Melissa—were placed into his arms for the first time. Tears of joy flowed freely down his cheeks then and again later that same day when they were placed in their only grandparent’s arms—Tyson’s.
As we’ve learned through the pursuit of our lives together, not every moment is filled with happiness. Sometimes we stumble, but always, we’re stumbling while holding onto each other.
And that’s what’s perfect.