Epilogue

My greatest accomplishment today has been not saying what I’m thinking aloud.

Tyler

“My wife doesn’t talk to many people,” I admitted, floored at what I was seeing.

I was at a banquet for the city of Hostel and the mayor was presenting me with an award for my superb service for the city.

Reagan had been adamant that she didn’t want to come, but with how big this was for our town, there was no way that her absence would go unnoticed.

“She’s actually talking to someone,” Johnny said, sounding floored right along with me. “Does she know that’s the mayor?”

I didn’t think so. If she did, she might’ve been keeping her trap shut.

“He started talking to her about his vegetable garden.” I likely sounded as amused as I felt.

My phone pinged and I pulled it out of my pocket, smiling wide when I saw the video there waiting for me.

Tonight was our daughter, Clarissa’s, first t-ball game and we were missing it.

We were also missing our son, Ellison’s—named Ellison Rome Cree—third kids’ pitch game.

This particular video was of Clarissa’s first at bat.

Her beautiful long, auburn hair that was curly like her mother’s, was up in a messy bun that I assumed Lennox had a part in taming and her baseball cap was turned sideways because it was too big for her head.

Each swing she took, the ball cap would fall farther and farther over one eye.

Bennett yelled something at the coach who had put the ball on the tee and suddenly Clarissa’s hat was gone.

Now, with nothing obstructing her view, she aimed the bat up with the ball and swung with all her might.

She spun in a circle, the ball going a scant foot from the tee itself, but still in fair play and everybody started yelling.

I could hear my mom and sisters in the back and then there was Rhys, my brother-in-law who’d turned out to be a pretty good guy to have around, yelling the loudest for our girl to run.

Clarissa did run, straight to where Rome was sitting on the sidelines.

She held up her lips as if she wanted a kiss and then Rome, laughing, leaned down so that he could offer her his cheek. Rome’s beard being the only thing she could reach, Clarissa gave him a kiss and then started running to first base as she was directed.

Laughing, I turned the phone to replay the entire thing for Johnny, who started to chuckle, his eyes watering.

“Oh, your girl is a heartbreaker,” Johnny said once the video was finished.

That, I knew without a doubt, was the truth.

Clarissa was a heartbreaker, just like her mother.

Ten years ago, I hadn’t been ready for Reagan Alvarez.

Hell, ten years later, I still wasn’t sure I was ready for her.

But, every single day that I spent waking up to her—to the sound of our children fighting or screaming—I thanked God for knowing what I needed even if I didn’t.

I loosened my tie, feeling choked up all of a sudden.

“Y’all should go,” Johnny pointed out. “There’s no reason for you to be here anymore. The award’s been given and to be honest, I wouldn’t want to miss any firsts.”

I didn’t, either.

I didn’t want to miss a single thing when it came to this life I found myself living.

I was there for the first ultrasound for both my daughter and my son. The first kick. The first breath. The first crawl and then the first walk.

Now I was there each and every first that came to be and I had one woman in the entire world to thank for it.

“I like how you think,” I said, slapping Johnny on the back. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow.

Then I went to collect my bride.

***

Two hours later, I was standing in a tux with my girl’s dirty body wrapped around me.

“Daddy, did you see me score?” she cried.

I grinned and dropped a kiss to Clarissa’s lopsided bun. “Yeah, baby. I saw you score.”

Reagan walked up then, a weird almost giddy smile on her face.

“What?” I asked.

She took Clarissa out of my hands and then put her down on the ground. “Baby, go find Grandpa and talk to him for a minute. I want to talk to your daddy.”

Clarissa didn’t have to be told twice. She loved her grandpa—even though ten years later, Bennett still swore that he wasn’t old enough to be anyone’s grand-anything.

But he loved his grandbabies, just like my mom and Lennox did.

My kids were so fuckin’ spoiled that sometimes it was hard to tell them no.

“What is it?” I asked, pulling her into my body and dropping a kiss on her upturned lips.

Ten years later and she still made my heart race.

“I got a call from the prison director.” She hesitated.

She didn’t have to say which prison that she was referring to. I knew, just as well as she did, which one it was that she was talking about.

“And?” I asked, hoping I wasn’t about to hear that he’d been offered the chance for parole.

Reagan’s lips spread into a smile. “Well, I just found out that Dusty has been moved from the prison to a hospital because he’s dying.”

I frowned. “Dying of what?”

“Dying of a heart attack,” she explained, shocked.

My brows rose. “He’s thirty-five.”

“And they said that he suffered a major MI in the yard a few hours ago and that doctors don’t expect him to live past tomorrow morning,” she continued.

I felt something akin to euphoria at hearing that statement.

I’d been worried a lot over the last ten years that they’d let the douche out early after they’d already offered the piece of shit a reduced sentence for God knows what.

To hear that the man wouldn’t be making it out to bother us in any way made me feel like dancing a jig.

“I…that’s the best news I’ve ever heard in all my life,” I admitted.

Reagan threw her arms around my shoulder and offered me her lips. I took them.

“Now you can settle down and let me breathe,” she teased.

I wrapped my arms back around her back and pulled her in tight. “You can breathe just fine…unless we’re in bed.”

She rolled her eyes.

“You’re a beast.”

I growled and brushed my lips down the long column of her throat.

“What’s private time?” Clarissa asked. “Mommy and Daddy don’t need private time. They need kid time!”

My eyes sparkled when I looked down into my wife’s eyes.

“Did you hear that, Dr. Cree?” I teased. “Mommy and Daddy time. I could kiss your father.”

She snorted at the use of her “official” title. But she’d earned it.

It’d been a hard road for her to conquer, but she’d done it, and she’d done it well.

“Or you could kiss me.” She suggested.

Easiest choice ever.