Epilogue
EPILOGUE
Sophia
I didn’t think I’d get to make it to France this summer, but now that we’re here again, I never want to leave. I forgot how stunningly beautiful it is here, and also how outrageously hot.
I guess it’s always hotter when you’ve got a newborn baby attached to your front.
I glance down at our tiny little baby boy, born a month prematurely but so utterly chill and relaxed that I was willing to fly halfway across the world to be here today.
Bryson catches my eye from where he’s setting up chairs in the blistering heat and gives me a thumbs up, our little check to see if the other is all good from a distance .
I smile and return the thumbs up.
Our boy is sleeping like the literal baby he is.
I catch sight of our four – going on five-year-old, about to pick up one of the cats that live on the property, whilst in her pretty, white, very clean dress.
“Sienna!” I call out to her. “Not a good idea please, honey. Let the cat sit in the shade.”
She pouts, but relents, and takes off running after a group of kids that have just boosted past her.
Sometimes I think we’re crazy for having three kids, but after Sienna, neither of us felt like our family was quite complete, so we tried for one more, and Beau was born.
Bryson loves his daughters something fierce, and I know he didn’t care if we got another girl, but I love that he’s got a son. Beau looks just like his father did when he was a baby. Completely and utterly adorable.
I watch as Bryson tells Aria something, and then as she comes wandering towards me.
“Mumma, Dad wants to know if you need a drink. He said you need to stay hydrated.”
I smile at her. She’s the sweetest ten-year-old in the world.
“You go and tell your dad that I’m perfectly fine, I’ve got a water bottle right here. Have you got sunscreen on?”
“Yes.” She scowls. “One of those older ladies Uncle Brent knows put it on me, and I think she got it inside my eyeballs.”
“Inside your eyeballs, huh?”
“And in my mouth, and probably up my nose.” She sighs dramatically.
“Well at least your eyeballs and nostrils won’t get burnt then.”
She giggles and runs off back to Bryson.
She’s been calling him dad for years, since before Sienna started talking, but it still makes me get butterflies in my stomach nearly every time I hear it.
I’m so proud of their relationship. You would never, ever guess that Aria wasn’t Bryson’s biological daughter. He’s so smitten with her. I hear him bragging about her to his work colleagues, he refers to her as his baby, and I’ve heard him talk about how she’s the one who made him a father.
I may not have been able to give her a great biological father, but I couldn’t have chosen her a better dad.
I guess that’s what really matters in the end.
I still have to take a deep breath when I find myself thinking about Joshua.
It really is a disappointing situation, but at least it’s no longer a volatile one.
He served five years in prison, which was nowhere near long enough in my opinion, but all his ten-year sentence called for. We haven’t seen him since he was released .
He signed over his parental rights and left me a letter with the lawyer saying sorry.
It was sincere-sounding, but after everything he put me through, it wasn’t close to being enough – nothing could be.
I made my peace with it a long time ago, but it doesn’t stop me wondering where he is, or what he’s doing. It doesn’t stop it from breaking my heart that he could walk away from his child so easily, even though I’m in full agreement that it was what’s best for her.
Maybe that’s what he finally did right as a father – recognise that he needed to stay as far away as possible.
My experience being pregnant and with a newborn baby was so starkly different with my second and third pregnancies.
I cried for two days when I saw the positive pregnancy test with Sienna. Even though she was a very wanted, and very planned baby, seeing those lines on the little white stick took me right back to high school, where I felt like I was going to throw up in a school bathroom.
I was that desperate, scared little girl again.
Bryson got me through it. The same way he’s got me through everything the past eight years have thrown at us.
He’s entirely unshakable. I’ve heard people refer to their partner as their rock before, but I didn’t truly understand until I got my own rock .
Bryson jogs over to me and ducks under the tree to get into the shade with us.
“God, it’s hot as balls out there. They’ve got some sun umbrellas; I’ll go and grab you one before it starts.”
“Thank you.” I smile at him.
He’s always so considerate, always thinking of me and our family.
“You ready to walk your baby sister down the aisle?” I ask, smoothing his collar out. He looks so handsome in his suit; it reminds me of the day we tied the knot.
He nods, his eyes going glassy.
He is for sure going to cry when he gives her away.
I remember the day Carley asked him if he’d do the honours. He bawled like a little baby. He was so happy, so flattered, and so taken by surprise.
It didn’t surprise me at all. I knew that Carley wouldn’t even want their father here on her special day, let alone want him to walk her down the aisle.
After Carley and Brent got pregnant and had their daughter two years ago, Bryson decided it was time she knew the truth about what he’d endured at the hands of the man who was meant to protect him.
I don’t think Carley has spoken a single word to their dad since that day.
As for their mother, she’s here today, and they’re all working on their relationship now that she’s divorced from their father, but it’ll never be a solid, loving relationship.
I think Bryson and Carley both understand that she was a victim in a lot of ways too, but that doesn’t mean they have to forgive her for the way she let their father treat Bryson. I certainly have no desire to forgive her for what she turned a blind eye to. As far as I’m concerned, my husband could have endured a lot less if she’d had a backbone.
I know from my own experiences, that there’s no way I’d let any man lay his hands on my child. It kills me that she didn’t feel the same.
“I suppose I better get in there. See if I can get the crying done early, once I see her in her dress.” He sighs.
“Got your tissues?” I tease him.
“In my pocket.” He pats it.
“Good man,” I tell him.
And that’s exactly what he is.
A good man.
The best man.
My man.
Forever and ever.