Epilogue Jennifer
Epilogue
Jennifer
The spring sun is gentle, brushing the tops of the trees with golden light. The playground is filled with soft laughter—the kind that lingers, the kind that warms even the toughest hearts.
My husband sits beside me on a bench, his arm slung lazily around my shoulders. He rubs my arm in slow, absent circles while I rest my head against his chest.
The world finally doesn’t feel like it’s burning—it hasn’t been for over ten years now.
A soft sigh escapes my lips as the thought settles in.
Everything is perfect.
Across the field, Daria—Yuri and Katya’s daughter—is chasing Matteo and Misha toward the slides, their laughter ringing through the breeze.
Daria’s little arms flail as she giggles, and Matteo is playfully leading the way, with Misha not far behind, his little legs moving fast to keep up.
Enzo and Mary, though, are a little farther away. They’re sitting together on the swings beneath the tree line. Not too close, but close enough.
Both always stick with us—their family. But often, they tend to linger a little further from the chaos.
Teenagers.
Their heads are tilted toward each other, laughing about something they definitely won’t be sharing with the adults. Mary nudges him playfully. Enzo doesn’t shove her back. Instead, he just looks at her.
And when I say looks—I mean really looks.
The way Daniel once looked at me before he even realized he’d fallen in love.
Daniel freezes beside me.
I follow his gaze, the air around us suddenly feeling thicker. My lips part.
“Oh…” I whisper, the realization settling over me like a slow storm.
“Yeah,” Daniel mutters, already dreading the teenage years ahead.
I glance back at the kids, who have now turned their attention entirely to each other. Mary leans forward; her eyes soft but filled with something else. Something deeper.
Enzo inches closer. And before I can even blink, their lips meet in a soft kiss—a tentative, innocent thing, but full of unspoken meaning.
My heart skips a beat, and I catch my breath.
Fuck. This is so sweet. Seeing my daughter fall in love, seeing her grow up… but with Enzo? Oh God.
I mean, I’m not surprised. Seriously. But still… It’s, uh… unexpected.
They grow up too fast. Too much. Fuck.
Daniel’s grip on my hand tightens, his jaw clenched. He’s still watching them, and his gaze is no longer the relaxed kind of a father watching his kids play.
“What do you think, hubby?” I murmur.
“I think we’re totally fucked,” he replies, his voice low, tinged with amusement—but there’s an edge of concern behind it.
I can’t help but chuckle. “They’re not even blood related. It’s probably just a harmless little crush.”
Daniel doesn’t look convinced. His eyes don’t leave them, and I can almost hear the overprotective calculations running wild in his mind.
I reach for his hand again, threading our fingers together. He lets me, his gaze still locked on Mary and Enzo.
He’s always been like this. So protective.
And I love him too much for it.
Before either of us can say anything else, Matteo’s voice rings out from across the field.
“Dad! Can you help me?”
I turn to see our ten-year-old standing a little way off, his brow furrowed as he struggles with a tangled kite string. It’s a small thing, but it’s important to him. Matteo’s always had that spark of independence, but sometimes—like today—he still needs a little help.
Daniel doesn’t hesitate. Of course he doesn’t.
If it wasn’t for the annoying toddler what-if-I-die-if-I-don’t-put-this-in-my-mouth phase and the dramatic do-you-still-love-me-even-though-I-just-threw-my-food stage, I’d almost want another child with him.
Almost. For now. But who knows, right?
He rises from the bench and walks over to Matteo, kneeling beside him. His strong hands move gently as he works through the knot. Matteo watches, wide-eyed, his expression full of trust and admiration.
I smile softly to myself.
Matteo’s growing up too, but Daniel is still that steady presence. His hero.
Daria and Misha come barreling toward the swings, breathless and glowing, their laughter chasing behind them. Childhood—so fleeting, so loud—fills the air.
I watch Daniel with our son. The warmth of the sun on my face. The weight of our past behind us, the calm of our present stretching ahead.
Despite the complicated moments, the ones that left us uncertain and raw, I know this: We’ve made it through everything. Together.
Enzo and Mary are still on the swings. Their hands are entwined now. The kiss has ended, but something about the way they look at each other tells me… this isn’t just a moment. It might be the beginning of something.
We are fucked indeed the second Victoria finds out.
I stand and walk toward my boys, the sun wrapping around me like an old friend.
Matteo thanks his dad, then races off to show the kite to Daria and Misha. It doesn’t take long before all three are spinning around, completely distracted by the joy of flight.
I reach for Daniel’s hand again. This time, he smiles at me, his lips soft with a kind of love that only comes after surviving hell and still choosing each other.
We both know: Whatever comes next—whether it’s the innocent crush of two teenagers or something much bigger—we’ll face it. Together.
“We’ve done okay, haven’t we?” I whisper, eyes on our kids—on this life we’ve built.
Daniel exhales slowly, the corners of his mouth curling into something almost shy.
“Yeah,” he says softly, squeezing my hand.
“We really have.”
I peck his lips gently, my hands resting on his chest as his move to my waist.
“Hubby…”
“Yes, pretty?”
I smile. “I’m so glad I witnessed everything back then.”
He smiles back. “Wrong time, wrong place, I’d say. But look—we made the best out of it.”
We fall quiet. His gaze sinks into mine.
“Do you still think about it sometimes?”
I pause. “About what happened that day?”
He nods. “Yes. About everything that happened before Hayden took over. You know… everything.”
I swallow. Yes. I do. I always do.
“Only the good things,” I whisper. “I want to enjoy life with you, not hurt myself by thinking of the past.”
His soft smile grounds me.
“It’s okay if some things still hurt,” he murmurs. “It’s okay, my love. Just talk to me, okay? If you need help… I promise, I’ll always be there.”
“I know you’ll be,” I whisper against his lips, kissing him gently. “You’ve always been. I love you, hubby.”
“I love you so much more, my wifey… So fucking much more.”
THE END.