Epilogue
KAI
T en years. It’s been a decade since I carried a terrified florist to my car and decided she was never leaving my sight. Looking at her now, laughing as she tries to wrangle our two children in the middle of her shop, I know it was the best damn decision I ever made.
The shop is almost unrecognizable from the cramped, tiny storefront Annika started over ten years ago.
It still has the cheerful chaos she loves, but now, it’s organized chaos.
We bought the whole building five years back, tearing down the wall between her original space and the vacant antique store next door.
The doubled square footage gave her room for two walk-in coolers, one dedicated just to her exotic flowers and one for the local blooms she still buys from the farmers market she used to dream about.
Her success is a point of constant, blinding pride.
Watching her take control of her dream, defying everyone who said she couldn't, only made me fall harder.
I watch her talk to customers, running her own empire, and I feel the same possessive snarl in my gut as the first time I saw her.
She's my queen, building her kingdom one perfect, resilient bloom at a time. The growth has been monumental; she’s gone from struggling with ledgers on a shoestring budget to having a thriving staff of three and a waiting list for wedding bookings.
She did this all while raising our kids. She is everything.
While Petal her wide smile, our daughter on her hip, our son racing toward us with more wilted flowers, while we literally stand in the middle of Annika’s dream. How can life get any better than this?
“I’m not scaring them,” I inform her. “I’m simply ensuring they know this shop, and everything in it, is under my absolute protection,” I growl low enough that only she can hear.
Wrapping a heavy arm around her waist, I pull her and Mya flush against my side.
I don’t care who’s watching. I need the world to see that she’s claimed.
Annika leans her head against my shoulder, a contented sigh escaping her. “You’re still so over-the-top, soldier.”
“And you’re still mine, little flower,” I remind her, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Forever.”
* * *
THE END