Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
I can’t hear their conversation from the deck, but there is no missing the way he fights to hold himself in check when it’s obvious he wants to reach for her or the way she stays far enough away that he couldn’t even if he tried.
Luckily for me, their talk is brief, and after sharing an awkward goodbye, he gets in his truck, flicking his hand in my direction.
“You okay?” I ask as she walks up to join me on the porch.
“Yeah.” She leans against me as he drives out of sight. “I love you.”
“I know.”
“Even though this trip wasn’t the best, I feel good about leaving this time.”
“Good.”
“Can we postpone New Orleans and just go home?”
I dip my chin to look at her, surprised by the request. “Is that what you want?”
“Yeah, I just want to be home. I miss Diana and arguing with Clifford.”
“Then we can definitely go home.”
“Thank you.” She leans up to touch her mouth to mine, then grabs my hand. “Now, come on. I need your help weeding.”
“We can pay someone to do that, Elora.”
“We can also do it together and then take a shower after.” She smiles at me over her shoulder, and I soak it in, wondering what kind of magic was at work when it twisted our broken strings together into a knot so seamless we had no choice but to find each other when we needed each other most. And it had to be magic because nothing else makes sense.
EPILOGUE ONE
40.7128° N, 74.0060° W
Roman
Waking when I hear a tiny cry coming from the bassinet tucked between the hospital bed and my chair, I look over at Elora, who is fast asleep, and quickly get up before she wakes. Last night, after seven hours of hard labor, she delivered our daughter, who came out screaming with a full head of blond hair and features just like her mom. Going to the bassinet, I scoop Millie Diana King up and hold her against my chest. I still haven’t gotten over how tiny and absolutely fragile she is. Taking a seat, I pick up one of the bottles she had been drinking from not long ago and rub the end against her lips. She immediately chases it and begins to drink. As I let my eyes roam over her, my heart feels too fucking big for my chest. I still can’t believe that I had a hand in creating something so perfect.
“I didn’t hear her wake up?” Elora’s sleep-filled voice reaches my ears, and I look over at her. Even obviously tired from giving birth, she’s beautiful, and even though I knew I loved her yesterday, that love has seemed to have gotten stronger in just a few short hours.
“She just woke up,” I tell her, then shake my head when she attempts to sit up. “I got her. You rest.”
With her face soft, she relaxes back against the bed, her eyes wandering from me to Millie. When Millie stops drinking, I put the bottle away and turn her in my arms to hold her up against my chest so I can burp her.
“You’re already a pro,” she says when Millie lets out a burst of air.
“All those classes you dragged me to paid off.” I smile at my wife and watch her laugh.
When there’s a light knock on the door right before it starts to open, I expect to see one of the nurses who have been in and out all night, but I’m happily surprised when I see my mom, Diana, and Sofia walk into the room. Mom’s eyes come to me for a moment before they drop to the bundle in my arms.
“Oh goodness,” she whispers, tiptoeing toward me as Diana walks over to the bed to hug Elora with Sofia right behind her. “Can I hold her?” Mom asks, and I carefully get up and pass her Millie, then hover over her until she’s sitting. “She’s beautiful.” Mom looks over at Elora.
“She looks like your son.”
“No.” Mom shakes her head, dropping her gaze back to Millie. “She looks like you.”
When I look over at Diana, who is still standing close to Elora, holding her hand, I catch the small smile on her face as she watches her daughter with her great-granddaughter.
“Did you decide on a name?” Sofia asks, walking over to stand over Mom.
“Millie Diana King,” Elora says, and since I’m looking at Diana, I catch her look at Elora with surprise before she turns to her and wraps her in a hug. The two of them are close. Oftentimes, when I call Elora during the day, if she’s not studying for some test she needs to take for school, she’s out with my grandmother, who hasn’t lost the love for the city she has lived in her whole life and enjoys sharing it with Elora.