Epilogue #2
The primary suite was designed to be a private oasis.
And through this whole process, I’ve thought so much about how we would use the space.
How we could relax together. I’ve known Damon since he was fifteen.
Just a cocky kid who had a crush on me. It was the kind of love that could have gone either way, but it worked out.
We fell in love. And it’s that love and our shared goals that have kept us together.
I love all things Damon. I love how he is exactly the same in public as he is in his private life. He works hard. Not at just football, but at life. And love. His family and friends mean everything to him.
And so do I. Someday, I’d like to marry him. I just don’t know when that will be. The past ten months since Summer was born haven’t been easy. But I’ve never once doubted we’d make it. Doubted our love.
When we arrive in our bedroom, I take in the color-drenched room. A rich aqua-blue paint covers the walls and ceilings. Soft cream headboard. Gold accents. Gorgeous chandelier.
I expect him to lead me straight to the bed.
Instead, he keeps going. Taking me through the bathroom with my very own copper bathtub. One I keep teasing that I won’t share with him, even though there will be plenty of room for two.
I consider offering myself up to him again. I mean, we could run a bath, right?
But then he stops in front of the doors to the closet.
“Oh shit,” I blurt out. “Please, please, tell me you didn’t change the closet. You don’t know how many hours I spent creating the perfect layout for it.”
“Like I said, I might have made a tweak here and there,” he says.
I close my eyes tightly, praying he didn’t ruin it.
But when he swings open the double doors, it is like all my drawings and design elevations have come to life.
Everything is exactly as I planned. It’s really pretty and by far the biggest closet I’ve ever had.
One we’re sharing. At least for now. We decided to wait on the other closet until he’s here full-time and we need it.
Because I don’t have that many clothes and because most of his are in Lincoln.
“This looks great,” I tell him. “Just as I envisioned it would be.”
But then he puts his hand on the door that goes into what will eventually be the hers closet.
My closet. It and the room attached to it were to simply be painted in our basic colors.
The second room was listed on our floor plan as flex space.
Could be an office someday, a yoga room, a place for a massage table, maybe even a nursery.
Jadyn told me early in the process that since we hoped to live in the house for some time, but didn’t need all the space yet, to leave a few rooms without a purpose and decorate and use them once we figured out how we truly needed to use the space.
Damon stops, turns to face me, and pulls me close. “Since you seemed to like your first present—”
“Presents,” I correct.
“Presents,” he agrees. “So, here we go. Merry Christmas again.”
He gives me a steamy kiss, then throws open the double doors.
What I see is not what I expected. It’s not an empty room. And it’s not painted white, as I instructed.
Instead, it’s a closet. A closet for a very lucky woman.
The creamy cabinets are custom and feature gold pulls.
There’s an island in the middle, and most of the cabinets have glass doors so I can see the clothing inside while keeping everything dust-free.
The walls surrounding the cabinets are covered in a beautiful gold brocade wallpaper, one Jadyn showed me when I first started working with her, but that we decided not to use in our project. And it makes me want to cry.
“What do you think?” he asks.
“It’s beautiful, Damon,” I say as he leads me around the corner, where the room opens up and a wall is filled with shelves. I could see me filling it with books, but on the shelves are a few pairs of beautiful designer shoes as props. Which I guess are meant to go there.
But then I see the other shelves, which are filled with large designer handbags.
I turn toward Damon, who is grinning like a maniac.
“These wouldn’t fit on the tree,” he says. “Why don’t you try them on too?”
“I don’t think I can accept these,” I say to him. For some reason, it just feels like too much.
“But whyever not? They’re for my future wife.”
His future wife? Did he build this room with someone else in mind? Is he going to break up with me now that the house is done?
Tears threaten at the thought. Plus, I’m feeling a little nauseated.
Actually …
I touch the back of my neck. It feels hot.
Oh my gosh!
Now I know why I’m thinking such crazy thoughts. Of course he did this for me. He loves me.
And that’s good because … I think I might be pregnant. And I have to get home and take a test. Stat.
“Um, I’m not feeling well,” I say. “Can we go home now?”
“We are home,” he says. “What’s going on? You seemed fine earlier.”
“I might be coming down with something,” I say. “Um, possibly the kind of thing that lasts about nine months.”
His eyes get huge. “Are you serious? Are you late?”
“Who knows? My periods have been sporadic because I’m still nursing.”
“You have symptoms then?”
“Yeah, I just thought you had made this beautiful closet for some other woman and were giving me a bunch of bags as a consolation prize.”
“I love you,” he says.
“I know. Also, I feel like I have a fever. But I don’t.”
“And that’s how you felt with Summer?” he asks, finally seeming to understand what I’m saying.
“Exactly how I felt.”
He grins. Big.
“I have a few more things I want to show you,” he says. “Then we can go get a test. This time, we’re doing it together.”
“Okay,” I tell him.
He takes my hand and leads me into the other flex space room. It’s fully decorated—beautifully and artfully decorated—and I know who did it.
“Jadyn?” I ask.
“Yes, she helped me with all this because I wanted to surprise you. Check out the desk blotter.”
I walk slowly over to the desk. The room is perfectly set up for someone like me.
Antique wooden shelving that looks like it was pulled out of a Turkish castle will totally hold my samples, a large table that I can roll out floor plans on is in front of the paned windows, and I know that when the curtains are open, I’ll be able to walk out to a balcony overlooking the backyard.
I notice more details—a brightly colored silk rug, the colors worn down from wear. An upholstered chair in a bold fabric.
“This reminds me of that resort we went to in Santa Fe,” I say.
“It is,” he says. “Remember when we went to the owner’s store and how much you loved everything?”
“Yeah. I do. Thank you, Damon. It’s so beautiful. I’m going to love working in here.”
I turn around, expecting him to be where he was—across the room—but he’s so close that my chest runs across his broad one.
“Thank you for all your hard work on our house. I really appreciate it and can’t wait to see the rest. But I have one more thing to show you first.”
He puts his arm around my waist and leads me toward the closed curtains. He moves them to the side, and although everything outside is completely dark, the little balcony has lights surrounding it and a table with a bottle of champagne chilling. Two glasses. A bouquet of my favorite flowers.
“This is pretty,” I say.
“You’re pretty,” he says with a grin as he drops to one knee. “Ainsley, I want to live my life with you forever. Will you marry me?”
Oh my gosh. This is so not what I expected. I stand frozen, shocked and awed by what he just asked. At the bags, the secret rooms.
“Shock and awe,” I blurt out.