Epilogue
One year.
It had been one year since that first night in the library when I’d finally given in to what I wanted.
Elena and I were married now — a quiet ceremony with just a few close friends who didn’t know our complicated history.
My father had moved out shortly after he caught us.
He was bitter, angry, and had chosen to cut ties rather than accept what had happened.
I didn’t blame him. I’d taken everything from him.
But I didn’t regret a single second.
We were in the nursery, watching our daughter — little Sophia — sleep in her crib. Elena stood beside me, her hand in mine, glowing with that same soft, shy beauty that had first drawn me to her. She was already pregnant again, her belly just starting to show.
She leaned her head on my shoulder. “I still can’t believe this is real sometimes.”
I kissed the top of her head, my arm wrapping around her waist. “It’s real. You’re my wife. The mother of my children. And I’m never letting you go.”
Elena smiled up at me, that same shy, loving smile she’d given me the night everything changed.
“I don’t want you to,” she whispered.
We stood there together, watching our daughter sleep, the house quiet except for the soft sound of her breathing.
The book club had become a thing of the past. Elena had found something better to read — the story we were writing together.
And I couldn’t wait to see how many more chapters we’d fill.