Extended Epilogue #2
He retreats, and I return my attention to Holly.
She's speaking with a collector now, animated and confident, completely in her element.
The age difference between us is obvious—I'm fifty-four to her twenty-six, gray threading heavily through my hair and beard now, lines at the corners of my eyes that weren't there five years ago.
But I don't care. Let them see. Let them know.
She's mine. And I'm hers.
After the gallery opening, I take Holly to Marchand's, the French restaurant downtown where we celebrated our first anniversary. We sit across from each other in a private corner booth, and I take her hand across the table.
"I'm so proud of you."
Holly's smile is radiant. "This is what I wanted. A career, a passion, something that's mine."
"I know. That's why I made sure you could have it."
"You've given me everything, Harrison. A family, a home, support for my dreams. I don't know how to thank you."
"You thank me by being happy. By loving me. That's all I've ever wanted."
"I do love you. More now than I did five years ago. More than I thought possible."
I bring her hand to my lips, kiss her knuckles. "I love you too, stepsister."
Holly laughs, the sound bright and unguarded. "You're still calling me that."
"Always. It's who we are. My stepsister, my wife, the mother of my children."
"It doesn't bother me anymore. It's part of our story."
"A story that started with scandal and ended in happiness."
"It's not ended yet. We have years ahead of us."
"I'm fifty-four, Holly. You're twenty-six. When you're fifty, I'll be seventy-eight."
"So?"
"The age gap will always be there."
Holly leans forward, eyes holding mine with absolute certainty. "And I'll always love my distinguished silver fox husband."
I smile. "Silver fox?"
"Look at you. That gorgeous gray hair, the beard. You're more attractive now than you were five years ago."
"You're biased."
"I'm honest. I love your gray hair. I love the maturity, the experience, the authority. You're everything I want."
"And you're everything I never knew I needed."
We return home near midnight to find Arthur and Frances have put the children to bed. The house is quiet, soft lamplight glowing in the living room where they're watching television.
Frances stands when we enter. "They were angels. Well, mostly."
Holly hugs her mother. "Thank you for watching them."
Arthur joins us in the foyer. "Our pleasure. How was the opening?"
"Amazing." Holly's face glows. "Everything I hoped for."
"Congratulations, Holly. You've come a long way."
I walk them to the door, and Arthur pauses on the threshold, hand on my shoulder.
"Family is family, Harrison. We lost years because of pride. I don't want to lose any more."
"Neither do I."
After they leave, Holly and I check on the children. Emma is sprawled across her bed, covers kicked off, her favorite stuffed rabbit clutched to her chest. James sleeps on his stomach in his crib, small hands fisted beside his head.
My hand settles possessively on Holly's waist as we stand in Emma's doorway, watching our daughter sleep.
"We did good, didn't we?"
"We did amazing."
Holly leans into me. "Sometimes I think about that day at the resort. If you hadn't approached me on the beach?—"
"I would have found another way. You were always mine, Holly. From the moment I met you two years before that."
"You were patient."
"I was terrified. You were my stepsister, twenty-nine years younger. I knew approaching you was wrong. But I couldn't stop wanting you."
"I'm glad you didn't stop."
"Me too."
We retreat to our bedroom, the house settling into quiet around us. I pull Holly into my arms, her back against my chest, my chin resting on her shoulder.
"Do you ever regret it? Choosing me over your mother?"
"Never. She came around eventually. We have everything now—our family, our parents, our careers. It worked out."
"It did. But there were years of pain, sacrifice?—"
Holly turns in my arms, hands framing my face. "Worth it. Every moment. I love you, Harrison. I'd choose you all over again."
"You're remarkable. At twenty-one, you chose scandal and uncertainty for love. Not many people have that courage."
"I had you. That made it easier."
"And now we have Emma and James. A life. A future."
"The future I always wanted."
"What do you want now? For the next five years, ten years?"
Holly considers, fingers tracing the line of my jaw. "More of this. Watching our children grow. Growing old with you. Maybe another baby someday."
"Another?"
"Maybe. Would you want that?"
"At fifty-four?"
"You were a father at fifty. What's a few more years?"
I laugh, the sound genuine and surprised. "You're insane."
"You love it."
"I do. I love you."
"And I love my silver fox stepbrother husband."
"That's quite a mouthful."
"You're quite a man."
She kisses me, deep and loving, the passion between us as strong as it was five years ago. Stronger, maybe, built on foundation of trust and history and the life we've created together.
I'm fifty-four years old, married to my twenty-six-year-old stepsister, father to two young children, and completely happy. The scandal is old news. Our families are reconciled. Holly has her career. I have my family.
This is what happiness looks like.
I was obsessed with my stepsister. I claimed her despite every taboo, every social convention, every voice that said it was wrong. And it was the best decision of my life.
Holly curls against me, head on my chest, hand over my heart.
"Happy?"
"Completely."
"Good. Because you're stuck with me forever."
I tighten my arms around her, breathe in the scent of her hair.
"That's the plan, stepsister. Forever."
Outside, the estate is dark and peaceful. Our children sleep safe in their beds. Our parents have reconciled. Holly's career is thriving. The scandal that once threatened to destroy us is ancient history.
We built this. Against every odd, we built this life.
And I'd do it all again in a heartbeat.
Holly's breathing evens out, sleep claiming her. I hold her in the darkness, fifty-four years old and more content than I've ever been.
My stepsister. My wife. My forever.
Worth every sacrifice.
Worth everything.
Thanks for reading!