Extended Epilogue
NORA
Fifteen years later…
The island looks the same.
White sand, turquoise water, the villa with its glass walls sliding open to let the breeze through.
My dad's laughing somewhere behind me, three of my kids swarming him like puppies—tugging his sleeves, demanding he tell the story about the time he accidentally locked himself in the supply closet at school.
Again. He pretends to fight them off, but he's grinning so wide his face might crack.
Vivienne watches from a lounge chair, sipping something with ice and a mint leaf. She's softer now. Less sharp-edged. Still terrifying when she needs to be, but she hugs my kids without hesitation, and that's enough.
The two oldest are down by the water, hunting for shells. I can see their heads bobbing, hear their shouts carrying up the beach.
Full circle. That's what this is.
Fifteen years ago, I stood on this island and didn't know what the hell I was doing. Now I'm standing here watching my life unfold in real time, and I know exactly what I'm doing.
Living it.
"Why aren't you wearing the green dress you bought last week?"
I turn. Cade's behind me, arms crossed, stubble thicker than usual. Vacation mode.
"It doesn't fit."
"It does."
"I thought it did, but I've got extra weight now."
His mouth twitches. "I love your extra curves. Lets me be rougher with you in bed."
Heat crawls up my neck. Fifteen years. Five kids. And he still makes me blush.
"True." Rhett's voice, calm and dry, from my left. "And you can take us all at once."
I choke on nothing.
Jude slides his arms around my waist from behind, chin hooking over my shoulder. "And we're not scared we'd break you, no matter how demanding we get in bed."
"You're all terrible," I manage.
"You love us anyway."
I do. God, I do.
"I love you," Cade says. States it like a fact.
"I love you," Rhett adds.
"Love you," Jude murmurs against my neck.
"I love you too." I lean back into Jude, meet Cade's eyes, catch Rhett's smirk. "Even when you gang up on me."
"Especially then," Jude corrects.
Society clutched their pearls when they found out. Of course they did. Four people in a relationship—the Ashford brothers and their stepsister. The tabloids ran wild. The gossip columns had a field day. People stared. Whispered. Judged.
They called us another weird rich family. The Ashfords were always unconventional. Vivienne married five times and adopted the sons of her ex-husbands. Her sons shared a woman. Par for the course, they said. Just rich people being rich people.
We didn't care. Never did. The opinions of strangers don't pay the bills or tuck my kids in at night or hold me when I cry because one of the rescue dogs finally got adopted after three years of waiting.
The rescue center's bigger now. So much bigger than I dreamed that day on the island when I told them about my lease ending and my ridiculous wish list. We have four locations.
Two hundred animals at any given time. A medical wing.
A training program. Two of my kids want to be vets. I cry about that regularly.
We are four consenting adults who chose each other. Fifteen years ago, on this island, in moonlight and salt air, we chose. We've been choosing every day since.
That's enough.
It was always enough.
Thanks for reading!