Epilogue
KATHRYN
“Uncle Doug, watch this!”
“I’m watching,” Douglas says, not even looking up from where he’s standing next to me.
“You’re not watching!” Ethan insists.
“I am,” he replies calmly. “You’re about to jump off something you shouldn’t be jumping off of.”
“I can do it!”
“You can,” Douglas agrees. “Doesn’t mean you should.”
Bella giggles from somewhere near the patio furniture, clutching a juice box like it’s a lifeline.
Anna catches my eye from across the yard and smiles, a little tired but a lot happier than the first time I met her.
It’s been a year.
A year since a charity auction.
A year since three half-dates.
A year since I almost walked away from the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
I lean into Douglas’s side, slipping my hand into his like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Because now?
It is.
“You’re very calm for someone supervising a potential disaster,” I say.
“I’m not calm,” he says.
“You look calm.”
“That’s the goal.”
I huff out a soft laugh.
Ethan jumps.
It’s not graceful. It’s not particularly coordinated. But he lands on his feet and throws his arms up like he just set an Olympic record.
“I did it!”
“You did, Buddy,” Douglas says, finally looking over.
“Did you see? That was amazing!”
“That was… something,” he agrees.
I grin. “Very supportive.”
“I’m realistic.”
“Mm-hmm.”
Bella toddles over, tugging on his hand. “My turn.”
He crouches immediately, all attention on her. “What’s your turn?”
“I jump.”
“You’re not jumping off anything.”
She pouts. “I can jump small.”
He considers that. “Define small.”
She points to a much lower step.
He nods. “That’s acceptable.”
I watch them, something warm and steady settling in my chest.
Because this, this is what he does.
He shows up for the people he loves. He’s steady. Present. Constant.
He’s everything I didn’t think I’d find. And he’s all mine.
“My sister texted,” I say, glancing down at my phone. “They’re on their way.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. She said they might be a little late.”
He nods. “That tracks.”
I smile to myself.
Because I know exactly why they’re late.
And I’m not saying a word.
Not yet.
“They’re going to be such good parents someday,” I say without thinking.
Douglas looks over at me. “Yeah,” he says slowly. “They will.”
I nod, hoping he doesn’t jump to any conclusions. Apparently, I’m not as subtle as I think I am.
Because his gaze lingers.
“Come on,” he says after a second, standing and brushing his hands off. “Help me grab the drinks?”
“Sure,” I say, a little too quickly.
We step inside, the noise of the kids fading just enough to feel like a bubble of quiet.
The second the door closes behind us, he turns to me.
“Okay,” he says.
“Okay what?”
“You made a face.”
“I did not make a face.”
“You did.”
“I definitely didn’t.”
“You did,” he repeats, calm and certain. “When you were talking about your sister being a good parent someday.”
I cross my arms. “You’re imagining things.”
“I’m not.”
“You might be.”
“I’m not.”
I sigh.
Because of course I can’t get anything past him.
“Fine,” I say. “Maybe I made a small face.”
“Still a face.”
I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling.
“I think you have something to tell me,” he says.
It’s not a question.
“I was,” I admit.
His focus sharpens just slightly. “What?”
“I was going to tell you tonight,” I say. “After everyone left.”
“Tell me what.”
I take a breath.
Then—“I’m pregnant.”
A second passes silently. Then, he lets out a whoop and hugs me off my feet.
I can’t help but laugh. “Doug—!”
He spins me once, laughter breaking out of him in a way I’ve never heard before—loud, unrestrained, pure.
Then, he freezes.
“Shit—sorry—” he says quickly, setting me back down like I might shatter. “Are you okay? Did I—did I hurt you?”
I laugh, grabbing his shirt to steady myself.
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“You didn’t—”
“I didn’t break,” I promise. “Or get sick. Or anything else you’re about to worry about.”
He exhales hard, running a hand through his hair.
“Okay. Good. Good.”
A beat.
Then he looks at me again.
Really looks at me.
“Seriously?” He asks. “We’re having a baby?”
“Yep, totally seriously.”
Then he pulls me in, one hand coming up to cradle the back of my head as he kisses me.
When he pulls back, his forehead rests against mine. “You just made me the happiest man in the world.”
I smile, my hands settling against his chest. “You’re going to be a very good dad.”
He huffs out a quiet breath. “I’m going to do everything I can to be.”
“I know,” I say softly.
Because I do.
Without a doubt.
“I’ve already seen you in action.”
His hand slides to my waist.
“Yeah?”
I tilt my head, meeting his gaze.
“You’re already the best husband.”
Something flickers in his eyes.
“I’m trying to be,” he says.
“You’re doing a pretty amazing job.”
He kisses me again.
It’s the kind of kiss that says everything without saying one word out loud. And in it there’s a promise.
That he’ll always show up for me, for us.
And he’s not going anywhere.
Thank you for reading!