Epilogue
Cody
Six months later - October
The smell of gun oil hangs in the air, I’m halfway through cleaning my gun at the dining table, focused on wiping down the barrel.
I feel Karissa’s eyes on me from the kitchen, arms crossed, lips tight.
Emma is scurrying across the hardwood floors between us, alternating between babbling to herself and pushing her baby doll in a stroller.
“Cody,” Karissa snaps, her tone sharp.
“Mm?” I don’t look up. I know that tone, but I was focused.
“Do you really have to do that here?”
I sigh and finally meet her eyes. “Karissa, it’s not loaded.”
“That’s not the point.” She motions toward Emma. “She’s a tornado of curiosity. What if—”
“I’m watching her, I’m watching the gun. And again, it’s not loaded.” I keep my voice calm, steady. I know what I’m doing.
Karissa presses her fingers to her temples. “I don’t care how careful you are. Guns and toddlers don’t mix.”
I lean back and set the cloth down. “Karissa, I grew up with guns. I know how to handle them. I would never, ever put Emma in danger.”
Her face softens for a second, but the worry doesn’t leave her eyes. “You’re not the problem, she is. She’s curious and fast. Yesterday she managed to get the batteries out of the remote.”
“Yeah, she’s smart…and a menace,” I mutter.
“Exactly,” she says, still frustrated. “It takes half a second for her to—”
“Karissa.” I force my voice to be gentle. “Baby, I promise you, I wouldn’t be doing this if I wasn’t in complete control of the situation.” I look toward Emma, who’s distracted with her doll. “She’s not even paying attention.”
Karissa looks from her to me. “I don’t care.”
“I’m almost done,” I tell her. “As soon as I’m finished, it goes in the safe. Like always.”
She blows out a breath, not arguing further, and walks into the living room to sit on the couch.
I finish within the next few minutes, just like I promised, and take it to the safe. Something hits me on the way there…guilt maybe, about being dismissive.
When I get back downstairs, I find her at the sink, rinsing out Emma’s sippy cup. Emma is still in the living room, climbing on the couch. I lean against the counter beside her and watch her for a second before speaking.
“I’m sorry.”
She doesn’t look at me, just mutters, “For what?”
“I should’ve done that in the garage or when she was in bed. I was being stubborn.”
She reaches for the towel to dry her hands. “No, it’s fine. I know you’d never let anything happen to her,” she says quietly. “I just worry because she’s so quick, Cody, and it terrifies me sometimes.”
I nod. “I know.”
“I do trust you.”
“I know you do,” I tell her, hand resting on her waist. “You’re a mom, though, and you worry. It’s okay.”
She shakes her head, frustrated. “No, it’s not. I’ve been extra uptight about things lately. I need to let it go; it’s making me crazy.”
I chuckle, trying to lighten the air. “It’s just the season; it’s busy. We all go a little crazy.”
She walks across the kitchen, hanging the towel over the oven rail with a sigh. “I haven’t been like this—micromanaging everything—since I was pregnant with Emma.”
I freeze, but she doesn’t. She keeps moving like she didn’t just drop a bomb in the middle of our kitchen. Her hair falls over her shoulder as she bends to scrub something off the oven door.
“Wait…what?” I push off the counter, my voice sharper than before.
Karissa stops. Her whole body goes still before she slowly straightens and turns to face me.
Her eyes are wide. “Oh my gosh. I-I didn’t even—” she stutters. I step closer, a smile on my face.
Five minutes later, she’s in the bathroom. The door creaks open and she steps out, the little test clutched in her trembling hands. Her whole body looks unsteady, like the weight of what it could say is too much. I wrap an arm around her.
“Do you think it’s possible?” I ask quietly, my hand rubbing circles on her back. My throat is tight, but there’s a spark of excitement I can’t hold back.
I guess anything is possible, considering how we’ve been handling things lately.
But honestly? In the middle of the season like this, with early mornings and long days, we barely have time to breathe, let alone make a baby.
I’m exhausted, she’s been on edge, I couldn’t even tell you when this would’ve happened.
“Should we look?” she asks.
My heart’s thudding harder than I’d like to admit, but I nod.
She flips the test over.
Pregnant.
We stare at the word, then at each other, stunned.
I scoop her off her feet, just enough that her toes lift from the ground, and hug her tight. I spin her halfway around before setting her down again. Her eyes are glassy with tears.
“Are you happy?” She sniffles.
“Are you kidding?” I scoff, grinning. I wrap my arms around her waist and kiss her again, slowly.
Then Emma starts pushing on my legs, trying to wedge herself between us. We break the kiss, laughing. I brush a tear off Karissa’s cheek before bending down to scoop Emma up.
“You wanna be a big sister?” I ask her.
She kisses the tip of my nose and babbles something that makes zero sense and Karissa tickles her belly until baby giggles fill the room.
“You’re gonna be the best big sister,” she whispers.
Her eyes are still wet. I want to believe they’re happy tears, but I ask anyway, just to be sure.
“You’re happy?”
She nods, though there’s a flicker in her eyes, something fragile, a pause too long between her smile and the word. I wrap my arm around her neck and press a kiss to the top of her head.
“It’s okay. We’ll be okay.”
“It was just a long road last time.” Her voice cracks with a shaky breath.
“I know,” I whisper, pulling her tighter against me. “But this time will be better.”
She nods again, brushing the tears from her cheeks, and I feel her lean into me like she wants to believe it too.
“Trust me,” I add softly.
The End.