Epilogue

Epilogue
“How are you feeling today, Mrs Dankworth?”

Myra smiled with her eyes closed, “As fine as someone in my state can be.” 

“I am always happy when my patients leave, but I feel sad in your case.”

Myra smiled as she adjusted to the couch she was lying flat on her back on. 

“You were really fed up when I just came here. How can you be sad?”

“It's not everyday you get a trained ex-cop as a patient,” the woman's voice said, and Myra laughed. 

“Or is it that my story made you need therapy too?” She teased, and finally opened her eyes. 

She looked round at the colorful office, and shook her head sadly.

She absolutely hated it when she first started coming here. 

After a six-month stay in a psychiatric ward, she should have loved the sight colors, because of all that plain whiteness she had stared at for months.

But she hated the colors, because colors made her think of children. 

The two she lost, and all the ones she could not have.

“Poor Cal.” She said now, and laughed. The therapist gave her a questioning look.

“It's been two years of coming here to talk. Cal will have to take your place. I will talk that man's ears off.”

The therapist smiled now, “At least, it will be happy conversations.” 

They stayed silent for a while and Myra knew she should leave already.

“Myra,” the woman called, and she turned to look at her. “I am really happy you made a full recovery. Let's hope you never return here.”

Myra laughed now even though that was not supposed to be funny. “There's nothing to trigger a relapse.”

“You still live in the penthouse.” 

“Because that is the only home Nova has known, and I am not going to take her out of there.” She sighed now. “The penthouse never wronged me. I found peace there, and family.”

Her therapist looked doubtful for a few seconds, then she finally nodded.

“I won't return here. There's no reason to,” Myra said with conviction. 

Aiden died on the day that was supposed to be her wedding. 

He blew his own head off, unable to come to terms with his reality. 

Just as she had been unable to come to terms with losing her surrogate baby, and ended up in a madhouse for six months.

Her father died in a street fight in Asia where he had run to as a fugitive, the place from which he sent the bomb to her wedding, which Aiden had come to save her from.

He had really come to save her. He found the other bombs, defusing them before the disaster. The explosion that rocked that hill so much was only half of what was supposed to go off.

Her sick father had set them up with a sixty-second interval like fireworks. 

She had made peace with all this, but she wished she had realized that Aiden was not exactly the demon she thought he was when he was alive. 

His only fault was being overly ambitious. In a bid to be powerful enough to fight Cal, who he thought was his father, he agreed to be his father's boy toy so he could claim that power. 

Almost like what she planned to do with Cal in the past. 

She sighed. 

All that was in the past now.

She had her sanity back, her peace, Greg, Nova, Cal and.. 

“Do you need help getting up?” her therapist was watching her now with a sympathetic smile.

“Yes, please. Have Cal come in.”

The woman stood up, and soon she heard his footsteps as he walked in.

Then his face, still handsome at almost fifty, floated above hers.

“How do you feel?” he crouched beside her, and gently caressed her hair back. 

“Ready to pop. Help me up.” 

And he slid his hand under her back and helped her into a sitting position, and then caressed her bump. 

After she caught her breath and the heartburn receded, she stretched her hand out for him to help her to her feet. 

She waddled to the therapist feeling as large as a whale, but she hugged the woman close and then kissed her cheeks. 

“See you never.”

“Have a safe delivery.” The woman was smiling brightly at her, and Myra nodded as Cal grabbed her bag and began to lead her out.

“Which other woman goes to her scheduled C-section directly from therapy?”

“My emotionally aware wife,” he said, and she blushed. 

She still had a little worry about procreating with her mental history, but it could not be helped. 

She had given up on having babies when she discovered she was five months pregnant. 

Cal helped her into the car, and they drove to the hospital singing along to the throwback songs from his car. 

They still had their moments where they stared at each other. And it was happening now. 

Five years in and that electricity, that strange thing even her therapist did not know the name for, still sizzled between them.

“You cannot get me pregnant while already pregnant, Cal. Relax. It's fine to fck me here.” She teased him now, and he shook his head as he drove into the hospital's garage. 

“You're a RIOT, Myra,” he said, smiling as he got out of the car.

“They say sex helps with dilating, yunno.” She said as he opened her door now. 

He was laughing as he supported her back out, helping her out of the car.

“Well, you're not pushing, so have no need to dilate.”

“I know, right? So sad,” she said, stepping back as he went to the car trunk to pull out their packed hospital bags, trying not to laugh. 

Her eyes fell on a pregnant woman walking side by side into the hospital with an older woman she suspected was her mother. 

She sighed, looking back towards Cal again.

By the time her mother comes out of jail, her grandchildren will have their own children leaving college.

“Ready?” Cal smiled at her, and she noticed how tight his face seemed. 

He was scared.

“Yes.” She took his hand, and squeezed. 

She was confident all the bad things in her destiny had already happened to her. 

From here on out, it would be recovery and healing from the traumas.

She was not going to die like Cassie. 

Hours later as she lay on the operating table, she was still squeezing his hand, staring into his eyes, making sure to hold the gaze so he did not begin to fret.

“Cal.” She called gently. “Count with me when we hear the first one.” She said, and he smiled at this. 

“One,” he called out as they heard the first cry, and the medical team saying happy birthday, and how beautiful she was.

“Two.” Cal squeezed her hand tighter now, as tears began to roll down his eyes as the second cry went out, louder than the first.

“Three,” she said alone, because he was too overcome with his emotions to speak. 

“I love you, Myra,” he leaned his forehead against hers even as a nurse told him to come cut the chords of their babies. “I love you so much.”

“I love you.” she was smiling even as tears rolled down the side of her eyes.

Cal was really hesitant to leave her side, soon to the doctors’ irritation. But she understood him.

He was scared she would die suddenly. 

It was only when they returned home that he began to relax as they settled into their new family of six. 

She stared at him a few nights later, as he walked around their room with their son, their only son, trying to soothe him to sleep.

That day she walked into Ciaran college to seduce him, the last thing she expected was that it would all end with his triplets in her belly.