EPILOGUE - Sadie Trevor
Nothing could keep us apart
You'd be the one I was meant to find
It's up to you, and it's up to me
No one can say what we get to be
Rewrite The Stars (feat. Anne-Marie) - James Arthur
Three years later…
Mom said the garden is at its most beautiful since the flowers started blooming, and I agreed. It’s really pretty and perfect for playing in, especially since the sun decided to hide and the temperature cooled down.
I think God heard my prayers while I was at recess, asking Him to keep the sky clear. Today is butterfly hunting day, our favorite family activity, which we can only do if the sun isn’t trying to melt the clouds and us along with them.
Some butterflies fly past Dad, but he pretends he can’t catch any and even trips on purpose in the grass, just to make me laugh.
I let him believe he can still fool me because I like being spoiled by him.
I went so long without him that I never get tired of all the affection he gives me every day.
My dad is amazing and has become my hero.
I remember the day I came home from school crying, and when I told him a boy was making fun of my scar, he went to the principal’s office and took care of it.
The next day the boy wasn’t in my class anymore, and that night I heard Dad telling Mom that he bought the school. I don’t know how someone does that, but from what I heard, he pulled it off.
I was happy, and no one ever bothered me again.
Now I only have nice friends.
“Dad, you’re the worst hunter in the world!” I shout when he runs past me, pretending once again that he can’t catch any of them.
He never catches any, even though he’s tall, big, and super strong!
“I let them win because they can’t be trapped,” he says, coming back to where I am. “But I think I’m going to catch the prettiest butterfly in this garden and keep her for myself,” he says softly, and I start running. “Sadie Trevor, come back here!” he shouts, laughing as he watches my escape.
I keep running to the other side of the garden where Mom is kneeling among pots and new flowers. She didn’t go to work today and used her free time to tend to our plants after playing with us.
“Don’t let him catch me!” I shout, throwing myself into her lap and using her body as a shield.
“You can’t trap our butterfly,” she says, defending me, and Dad kneels in front of us.
“But she’s so pretty,” he pleads with a sad face, making me laugh. “I really can’t?”
“You can’t,” I confirm, and Mom gives me a kiss.
“What a shame,” he sighs, throwing himself on the ground beside us. “I thought she’d want to have chocolate ice cream with me.”
“She does! She really, really wants to!” I shout, already climbing out of her lap and running toward him as he opens his arms, laughing. “Can we go to the one near Mom’s work?”
My mom has a flower shop now—actually, several of them, since my dad bought all the stores in the area so she wouldn’t have any competition. I thought it was a bit much, but he keeps saying he did it for love. Mom always rolls her eyes when we talk about it, but she can never hide her goofy smile.
Grandma Lilian works at the same flower shop as Mom, and everyone who goes in says it looks like a little piece of paradise.
The two of them only work at one location, and the other shops have hired staff.
I love studying in the little corner my grandma made for me, but sometimes I just stand there watching how happy Mom gets surrounded by her flowers.
“We can’t. It’ll take too long to get there.” My smile fades when I hear the answer. “But I already bought some when I dropped you off at school, and it’s in the freezer.”
“He also bought chocolates and toppings to add to the ice cream,” my mom reveals, wiping her hands on her clothes.
“You’re the best parents in the world!” I hug them both. “And when I get married, I want to be just like you two.”
“No marriage,” my dad grumbles.
He’s very jealous.
Very much so.
“But you two got married.” I put my hand on my hip, and he looks at my mom for help.
“One day it’ll happen, but that’s a long way off,” she says, helping him out with a laugh, and we get up, brushing the grass off our clothes.
It’s been three years since they got married in a chapel—complete with Elvis and everything.
I was the flower girl, wearing a white dress covered in blue flowers.
Dad got emotional when he saw Mom walk in, and I cried a lot because she looked so beautiful in the dress she’d grabbed at the chapel.
Besides, I knew how much she deserved to be happy.
We agreed to never talk about monsters and witches again, but I still remember how much she suffered taking care of me.
My mom doesn’t know, but I used to hear her crying at night, hiding her fear.
I always asked God to get us out of that house, and He answered my prayers—maybe because I’m a good girl.
Since we moved to this city, we’ve never cried again. There have only been happy times, but my favorite day of all was my fifth birthday.
Mom and Dad said they wanted to take me to a magical place.
I didn’t know exactly what that meant until I saw the blue castle and the fireworks painting the sky.
I remember the smell of popcorn mixed with the sound of laughter, the lights twinkling as if the world really was full of magic once night fell.
It was the most incredible day and night of my life, and I think theirs too.
Mom laughed with sparkling eyes, and Dad carried me on his shoulders, saying princesses shouldn't have to walk.
They seemed happy, truly happy, and every time I looked at them, they were watching me with eyes full of love.
They hugged me constantly, whispering that they loved me and would protect me forever.
And they did protect me.
After my birthday, there were no more nightmares, and they always tell me bedtime stories.
I especially love the one Dad tells about the castle he destroyed to save his princess.
He always says that when he thought everything lay in ruins, the princess spread her wings and he taught her to fly.
I think it's sweet how he always tells it while looking at Mom, as if the whole world were too small to hold the love he feels for her.
I think their love is the kind that lasts forever.
The kind of love I'll want someday.
“Not too much ice cream because we'll be having dinner soon,” my mom says as we walk toward the door. My dad sneaks me a wink, but she catches it and scolds him.
Mom tries to look angry when he and I get into mischief, but all Dad has to do is call her “Butterfly” and her face turns pink and her whole expression softens.
“You two are hopeless,” she jokes. When we get to the living room, I turn to face them.
“I'm going to my room to get something, but stay right there,” I say, already turning to head up the stairs.
“Slowly, sweetheart, or you'll hurt yourself.” I hear the warning and slow down a little, even though I want to run faster.
I head down the hallway to my room and grab the notebook from the bed. I return to the living room with the drawing pressed against my chest, and I don't know who's more anxious: me or Mom.
Her eyes are already glistening with tears.
“What are you hiding there?” she asks, pretending not to know, and I turn the paper around.
“How beautiful, little one,” my dad says, leaning in to see the drawing better. “Me, you, Mom, and…” He furrows his brow when he sees a baby in the crib drawn in the corner of the room.
“The baby Mom is expecting,” I finish, revealing the secret, and his mouth falls open.
“You're pregnant, Butterfly?” he asks, as if he can't believe it.
She nods, her tears flowing harder now, and he pulls her close.
I watch them press their foreheads together like in the romance movies I see Aunt Greta watching when I visit her. I wish she still lived with us, but Aunt Tessa asked her to come stay with her.
“I found out yesterday after feeling sick, and the little one helped me put together the surprise since she loves to draw.”
“First drawing of our new family,” I say, happy because I'll have company soon.
“Today goes on the list of best days of my life,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. Then they both open their arms, inviting me into their warmth.
“Are you happy?” he asks me.
“So happy, and I hope it's a little girl so we can play together.”
“But what if it's a boy?” he asks.
“Then I'll have a new hero,” I answer, and they hug me, smiling. “Wait, there's more.” I pull away and turn the page of the notebook. “You are my blue,” I say, a little shy, looking at the drawing.
“Blue?” my dad asks, confused.
“The teacher said that each person has a color. That blue means calm, protection, a safe harbor—it's the sky that covers us and doesn't let the rain last forever.” I raise the notebook, showing the sky I painted. “You are that to me. My blue. My sky.”
Mom covers her mouth with her hand, trying to hold back a sob. Dad doesn't say anything right away, but pulls us both close again, into his embrace.
“And you are our entire rainbow,” he says, his voice hoarse. “Because you're the one who brought color to everything.”
He squeezes us tight, and we fit perfectly in his embrace. For a moment, I feel their hearts beating alongside mine, and I feel like the most incredible girl in the world for having them with me.
I close my eyes and think that if someone ever asks me what happiness is, I'll tell them about this moment.
About the four of us.
About the blue we are to each other.
And about how their love saved me.
The End