Epilogue
Two years is not nearly long enough to get used to the ocean.
Vast beyond comprehension, it rivals any lake at sunset, when the horizon is a thin orange glow that casts glints along brilliant sapphire water. No trees to block the view.
I hunch forward on a sandy blanket and drape my arms over my knees.
Beside me, Annabelle coos on her back and sways her hand as if reaching for the sky.
At the shore, her older sister searches for seashells on thick, wobbly legs.
Brown wavy hair—her mother’s twin—falls into her eyes as she bends for treasure.
Gasp. She holds up an eighth shell as excitedly as the first.
“Lulu!” She hurries to me and nearly trips on her own unsteady toddler feet. “Lulu, look.”
I hold out my hand. Carefully, she places it in my palm and steps back with her hands cupped in front of her. I inspect it as a gemologist would inspect a diamond.
With a straight face, I look up. “Marti Grace. Did you find this?”
She bites her lip to hold back a smile—we love this dance—and nods.
“This shell is one of the most magnificent I have ever seen.” I trace an admiring finger around a faint ring of brown. “The muted colors and the crack.” I bring it close to my squinted eyes. "Da Vinci could not paint a more delicate imperfection. You must have it appraised, my dear.”
“Necklace!” Marti claps her hands.
I rest the shell in the pile at my side. “Of course, my love. We’ll make it first thing tomorrow. Deal?” When I stretch out my hand, she takes my fingers and shakes.
Beside me, Annabelle’s squawk draws my attention.
Marti rushes off to find more treasure while I turn to address the infant.
Admittedly, at only three months old, she’s more difficult to navigate than Marti—who’s had 2 years to acclimate to me.
I nearly refused when Liberty asked me to take her along.
If the bags beneath her eyes weren’t so deep, I might have been able to.
“Is something the matter?” I ask, practicing a voice higher than my own. It’s nothing but awkward. It’s lucky Annabelle is too young to care.
When she rolls her head to look at me, her hand lowers as if she’s just realized something more interesting sits beside her. I hold my breath.
It’s a long second before something happens to her face. Her lips stretch with an obnoxiously wide smile, rounding her cheeks like little cherry-blossomed balls. Her father’s caramel eyes light up with brightness lost in adulthood.
For a moment, I’m struck. My chest warms and loosens, and I feel myself smiling back.
Sawyer’s voice: “You better not be getting any ideas.”
I look over my shoulder just as he comes up behind me. He scoops Annabelle up and sits cross-legged on the blanket with her propped in his lap. She gives him a moment’s attention before discovering the sunset.
Marti squeals in delight and runs to give him a hug. As soon as she’s had enough of him, she toddles back to the shore. No doubt she’ll be even prouder when she finds the next shell.
“Well, I tried to talk her out of it,” he says. Lies. No matter how hard we try, the truth never comes naturally. Though it might as well. We can always tell when the other is lying. “But Liberty insists on going out tonight.”
“Liberty should insist on sleeping. Have you seen her lately? And Angel is even worse.”
“The joys of parenthood.”
I laugh with a glance at Annabelle. Amazing how such a precious, content little creature could be the source of deprivation. Doubly amazing that more women aren’t content being aunts.
“We should take the kids tonight. Let the gremlins sleep.”
“I agree. I’ll watch the kids tonight.”
When I give him a sideways look, his lips spread with a mischievous grin.
“You may be content with risking your freedom, but—”
“It’s been two years, love. Spain isn’t looking for you.”
My head tips back with a laugh. “How privileged you are to be so inconspicuous.”
“How egocentric you are to think people give a shit.”
I frown.
He smiles. “If you can give me a single instance of something pointing at you in public, I’ll drop it.”
“Spain is unusually polite.”
“I’ll accept a gasp. A hand to the chest. Wide, horrified eyes.”
“Makeup is incredibly deceptive… And I wear big sunglasses in public. No one has seen my eyes.”
His head falls back dramatically with a groan.
I slap his thigh. “I’m serious.”
He rolls his head and gives me a lazy look I’ve begun to associate with Sawyer.
For a while after we left New York, his anxiety was persistent.
We followed Angel and Liberty to their home in Spain, and he refused to leave the house for three months.
He said that’s how long it takes for reporters to get bored and law enforcement agencies to conserve resources.
For me, it was a year before I set foot in town. And even then, I dressed in long sleeves and sunglasses, with a comically large hat containing my hair. We went to a farmer’s market and immediately bolted back.
In the months since, things have been progressively easier.
We go to breakfast on Sundays in a little cafe and shop for groceries afterward.
Sometimes, I ride along with Liberty to pick up Marti from preschool.
Usually, I’m able to be fully covered without looking odd.
In the summertime, it’s harder. Next to Liberty, at a bar, there would be no question that I was out of place.
“It might be your last chance,” Sawyer says in a tone that’s more teasing than serious. The Sawyer I fell in love with was serious. This Sawyer, the content Sawyer—the happy Sawyer… He takes nothing seriously.
Somehow, I love him even more.
I arch a brow. “Cryptic.”
“Remember that cabin in Norway I told you about?”
The secluded cabin in the forest, where the winters are beautifully snowy and trees stretch for miles. Where neighbors are worlds away and streams can be walked in utter solitude. Where Sawyer and I can be alone, together. Safe. Almost like home.
Yes, I remember.
“I see a realtor next Tuesday. We’ll be able to move in by the end of next month.”
He smiles as if anticipating my happiness, but it doesn’t fully reach his eyes. The sunset is like a golden backdrop that warms his already tan skin with a remarkable glow. As if he was made for it—for the ocean and the sand and the seashells Marti is forever putting around his neck.
It’s hard to meet those eyes, so I watch Marti instead.
Spain was always supposed to be temporary.
Every time we found someplace to settle, Sawyer would find something wrong with it.
The house is too drafty, the neighbors are too curious, the police take their job too seriously.
I was too grateful for the time he had with his family to argue.
This time is different. I know when Sawyer lies… But I know even better when he’s telling the truth.
“What’s wrong? You don’t look happy.”
I snort. “Do I ever look happy?”
I wait for the tease, but it never comes. I turn to look at him and almost sigh at his frown. He would give me anything if I asked for it. He would sacrifice everything to watch me smile.
Sometimes, I wish I could tell him he’s already given me the world. That I have never in my life imagined I was capable of not only love, but joy. Every day is the best day of my life, as long as I get to watch the sunset cast its colors along his face.
All of which is far too corny to say aloud.
Maybe one day.
“I’m happy you made the effort.” I lay my hand on his knee. “But I need you to cancel the appointment.”
For seconds, he doesn’t say anything. Annabelle looks around as if even she notices the silence.
He places his hand over mine. “Are you sure?”
I’ve had ample time to think about it. So there’s no hesitation when I nod. I reach over toward Annabelle and brush sand off her cheek. "I may not want children, but surely you know I wouldn't abandon my family… We're already home."
I can tell he tries to contain his excitement. His lips twitch, but he holds back his smile until Marti brings him a shell. He comes alive, animated beyond joy that comes from humoring a child. Between words of praise, he looks at me and mouths the words I love you.
I mouth them right back.
All is as it’s supposed to be.
Thank you so much for your interest in my work! I’ve hope you’ve enjoyed getting to know Sawyer and Luna, and I hope you’ll check out my other books as well. There is much to come.
If you’d like a good place to start, Liberating Deceit is the sister series to Puppets & Property, and heavily features Sawyer… Because he’s the villain! A true villain who was not at all supposed to get his own series, so believe me … he’s as bad as they say.
Until next time,
— Nicole