Bonus Epilogue - Five Years Later
BAILEY
Christmas Eve arrived wrapped in noise, movement, and pure, unapologetic chaos.
The lakehouse where we had lived for the past five years buzzed with life.
Ashton’s wish had come true in ways I once could not imagine.
Two girls, four and two years old, darted through the living room, their laughter ringing as they chased two dogs, narrowly missing the cats perched in judgment on the stairs.
Somewhere near the fireplace, two rabbits escaped their pen, hopping freely as if they belonged to the madness too.
I stood in the middle of it all, overwhelmed, trying to decide who to catch first before something broke.
Tonight, we were hosting a Christmas Eve party. The caterer moved briskly through the kitchen, staff made final arrangements, and the house filled with the scent of pine, cinnamon, and something sweet baking in the oven. Guests would arrive any minute.
Ashton came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, completely unfazed by the chaos unfolding in front of us.
“This,” he murmured, pressing a kiss into my hair, “is exactly how I pictured it.”
I let out a tired laugh and leaned back against him. “You said you wanted a big family. You never mentioned it would feel like managing a small village.”
He smiled against my temple. “And you are doing beautifully.” His voice softened, dropping into that familiar husky tone that always sent a shiver through me. “Did I tell you how much I loved you today?”
“Yes, Ashton,” I said, rolling my eyes with a smile. “You told me this morning in bed. And then a few more times after that.”
Since we reconnected, he had made it his daily mission to remind me how much he missed me, how deeply he loved me. He never hesitated to show his affection, whether we were alone, in public, or surrounded by his own family.
“Hm,” he teased. “Not tonight yet. That explains why you look so cranky.”
Before I could respond, he kissed me—slow and certain—right there in the middle of the noise and movement. I returned the kiss without hesitation. When we finally pulled apart, I looked into his eyes, overwhelmed by a feeling too big for words.
“I love you, Ashton.”
“I love you more, Bailey. Always.”
The simple certainty of his words settled something inside me. Every time I looked at him, the world seemed to quiet. He had that effect on me—stealing my breath without even trying.
Across the room, Tristan stood beside his sisters, tall and already striking in a way that still caught me off guard.
He carried Ashton’s features and his calm presence, but his kindness was entirely his own.
He crouched to help his youngest sister untangle her dress while the older one clung proudly to his arm, declaring him her hero.
Watching him, I felt my chest tighten—not with pain, but with something warm and full. This was the life Ashton had imagined. And somehow, it had become mine too.
The sight of him like that filled my chest with something warm and almost overwhelming.
The doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of my father, Amelie, and her sons. It had taken time, years even, for forgiveness to find its way into my heart. But standing there, watching them step inside with tentative smiles and open hands, I knew giving them a chance had been worth it.
Ashton reached for my hand, his grip steady and reassuring.
Sixteen years ago, love had nearly destroyed us.
Now it filled every corner of this house, loud and messy and imperfect.
As I rested my head against Ashton’s shoulder, watching our children race past us in a blur of laughter and motion, I realized something quietly powerful.
This was the chaos he had always loved.
And this was the life I had once been too afraid to believe I deserved.
The End