Epilogue
EVI
I clutch Sandro’s hand as we walk into the ultrasound clinic, my nerves buzzing like electricity under my skin. My stomach feels full of butterflies and something heavier, something tender that’s all mine. Sandro’s hand is warm, grounding me, steadying me in a way nothing else can.
“You excited?” he asks, his voice low, teasing, but with a softness that makes my chest ache.
“I… I think so,” I admit, my thumb brushing over the back of his hand.
“Terrified too.” Because even though we’ve already been to the doctor and confirmed that, so far, my pregnancy is entirely normal and I’m safe to move forward with it, I still can’t shake that icy fear lurking in my subconscious.
He smiles, eyes lighting up as he gives my fingers a gentle squeeze. “There’s nothing to be scared of. Everything is going to be great.” His words make my heart stutter as they warm me from the inside out.
When the nurse calls us back, we enter the clinical room, and I try to calm my racing thoughts as the nurse guides me to lie back on the table.
Sandro perches on the edge, his knee brushing mine, and I feel that familiar flutter in my chest. Even after everything, even after nights that seemed unending, he’s here. Right here.
The doctor comes in a minute later, cheerful but professional, and I can’t stop myself from trembling a little as she chatters happily, making small talk as she starts the procedure. The cool gel on my stomach makes me jump, and I glance at Sandro.
He chuckles softly and brushes my knuckles with his thumb. “Feels weird?”
“Like freezing jelly,” I mutter, but he’s smiling at me like I’m the only person in the world.
The screen flickers to life, and I squeeze his hand, tears welling unbidden. Then the heartbeat starts—rapid, tiny, almost impossibly strong—and a wave of love crashes over me. I can’t look away from the screen as swirling images move across it. I can’t stop shaking.
Then the doctor frowns. “Hmm,” she says, tilting her head, eyes narrowing as she studies the screen.
I freeze, panic flaring instantly. “Is something wrong with the heartbeat?” My voice trembles. “It’s too fast, isn’t it? And… irregular?” I’d hoped I was imagining things. After all, I’ve never heard an ultrasound before.
“No, no,” she says quickly, raising a hand. “It’s nothing to worry about, though you’re not wrong. It’s actually… well, we’re hearing more than one heartbeat.”
My brain freezes. I blink at her. “More than one?” My pulse skyrockets, a mix of confusion and awe.
“Yes.” She nods, smiling now. “Congratulations… you’re having twins.”
Something inside me shatters in the best possible way. Tears spill down my cheeks as I turn to Sandro, unable to contain myself. “Twins,” I whisper, voice trembling. “We’re having… two babies.”
Sandro’s face breaks into a grin that makes my heart ache with joy. He leans over and presses his lips to mine, kissing me fiercely, passionately, right there in the office. My hands thread into his hair as I cling to him, tasting the sweetness of relief, excitement, and love all at once.
“They’re going to be amazing,” he murmurs against my lips. “Just like their mother.”
“I can’t believe it,” I whisper, voice barely audible. “Two… little babies… ours.”
He pulls me close, and we sit together for a few moments, just holding onto the reality of it, letting it sink in.
The doctor gives us a few snapshots of our twins, and I can’t stop pressing them to my chest, marveling at the tiny little lives growing inside me.
Back in the car, Sandro doesn’t stop holding my hand. His thumb circles over mine, gentle and steady. “I have a surprise for you,” he says, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.
My stomach flips. “Another one?” I ask, laughing through tears.
He smirks, and one corner of his mouth quirks. “Yes. I’ll show you when we get home.”
The moment we step inside, I’m already buzzing with anticipation.
He leads me down the hall to a room past the library we’ve just finished restoring.
The smells of fresh fabric, polished wood, and something faintly floral hit me immediately.
My eyes widen as I see the sewing machine, fully outfitted with a table and shelves stacked with bolts of beautiful fabric.
“You… you did this for me?” I whisper, running my hands over the smooth wood.
He steps up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pressing his cheek to the side of my head. “For you. So you can make whatever you want, whenever you want.”
I spin in his arms, pressing my lips to his, and I feel like the luckiest woman alive. “Sandro… this is incredible.”
He chuckles, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “The surprise isn’t over yet.”
He takes my hand and leads me down the hall again, back toward the entry and up the winding staircase to our suite—and the room just beyond that will be the nursery. My breath catches when I see the crib, the changing table, the rocking chair… Everything is there, but it hasn’t been decorated.
“We’ll have to get another crib, of course. But I spoke to Stephanie. These are all the best brands she could recommend. I figured she was the best resource because… well, Jackson.”
Right, Gio’s wife already had one child, and I couldn’t think of a better mother to ask for advice.
“It’s yours to decorate as you see fit.”
“I… I can do that?” I ask, eyes wide.
“Every detail,” he says, voice soft. “This is yours. For them. You tell me what you want, and it’ll be done.”
I press my hands to my mouth, overwhelmed. “Sandro… I can’t… this is… amazing. I don’t even know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmurs. “Just enjoy it. You’ve earned this.”
“We’ve earned this,” I insist, turning to look up at him with awe and wonder.
We linger there for a few more moments, just taking it in as I imagine tiny hands, tiny feet, little laughs filling the space. My heart feels like it might burst.
Then he gently takes my hand again, leading me back to our room. “Come on,” he says softly. “There’s one more surprise for you.”
I laugh, my cheeks aching, and follow him to the bedroom. Before I can even think, he scoops me up, and I can feel the heat of him, the strength, the love. He lays me down on the bed, and I let myself relax into him, into the safety and the joy that only comes when I’m in his arms.
He kisses me slowly, tenderly at first, exploring, savoring. Then it deepens, becomes more urgent, more passionate. I cling to him, pressing my body to his, feeling the pulse of his heartbeat against mine. Every touch, every whisper, every brush of skin is a promise—of love, protection, family.
He pauses, pulling back just enough to look into my eyes. “You are a wonder, Sunshine,” he murmurs, the love shining in his eyes. And then he kisses me again, slow and sweet, the world outside ceasing to exist for just this moment.
I can feel the joy, the hope, the absolute certainty that this—him, me, our twins—is everything I’ve ever wanted.
Sandro’s hands are warm on my back, tracing slow circles over my shoulders, my arms, my breasts. They ground me even as my heartbeat races. I feel every inch of him pressed against me, the familiar weight and strength that has always made me feel safe, and a shiver of anticipation races through me.
His lips brush across my temple, then the curve of my cheek, slow, deliberate, like he’s memorizing me again. I reach up to him, fingers threading through his hair, holding him close.
“God, I want you,” he murmurs against my lips. His voice is low, husky, full of something I can’t name, something that makes my chest ache with desire and love.
“I need you,” I whisper, my voice catching.
He smiles against my mouth, and the kiss deepens, slow at first, tasting, savoring, our lips moving together as we find our rhythm.
His hand slides down my side, resting gently on my stomach, and I feel the warmth of his palm, the steady pressure reminding me that he’s here, that he’s mine, and I’m carrying his children inside me.
I press myself closer, letting his strength surround me.
Every touch, every sigh, every whisper of his lips is electric.
My fingers explore the planes of his back, the ridged flesh that’s been slow to heal but is beautiful in my eyes, nonetheless.
I follow the curve of his shoulders, savor the firmness of him under my hands, and he responds in kind, his hands claiming my curves, holding, kneading, cherishing.
He pauses just long enough to look into my eyes, reading me, seeing me. “You’re beautiful,” he breathes, and my stomach tightens. “Always… now, more than ever.”
His hand cradles my face, his thumb brushing tears I hadn’t realized had fallen, and he kisses me again, soft this time, reverent, as though he’s memorizing every part of me. I feel a warmth in my chest, a thrill, a tremor, and I know it’s not just my love for him—it’s for our life together.
I close my eyes, letting his warmth wash over me, the steady press of his chest against mine, the heat of his skin, the deep, steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Every fear, every shadow from the past seems to melt away in that embrace, leaving only the love, the hope, the promise of family.
He whispers my name, low and husky, and I shiver at the sound, pressing myself against him. “I love you,” he breathes. “I love you, Evi. So damn much.”
“I love you,” I whisper back, voice breaking with emotion. “More than anything.”
A low growl of approval rumbles from his chest, and his fingers slide beneath the hem of my shirt to pull it up over my head.
Then around the waist of my leggings to guide them down my hips.
I let him strip me—then watch with open appreciation as he quickly removes his own clothes before settling between my thighs once more.
“I could spend a lifetime worshiping this body,” he rasps, his lips more eager, demanding now. “And never get enough.”
I gasp as that sinfully sweet mouth wraps around my tender nipple, sucking gently until arousal gushes to my core. A low, lusty moan slips from me, and Sandro chuckles as his hand trails down my body so his fingers can trace my slick slit.
“Always so eager and ready for me,” he teases, and I whimper as the silken tip of his cock parts my folds, gathering my excitement as he finds my entrance.
“Yes!” I moan, my body throbbing for him.
And in that moment, as he presses inside me, making our bodies one, everything else fades away. It’s just us, just our love, and the life we’ve created together, the babies growing inside me, a promise of the future.
Sandro shifts, holding me closer, letting me feel every inch of him as he rocks inside me. I arch into him, heart racing, hands clutching his hips, face pressed to his chest. I feel so safe, so loved, so… complete.
He kisses me again, soft and lingering, and I know that this is only the beginning—of our family, of our love, of the life we’ve fought so hard to protect.
And God, do I love it.