Chapter 159 Epilogue

Chapter 159 Epilogue
Tegan

Hayes drives into me, a relentless, punishing rhythm that has the headboard slamming against the wall in a staccato beat that matches the frantic thudding of my heart.

I’m soaked, my pussy clenching around his thick cock as he grinds deep, hitting that spot inside me that makes my vision blur. He’s hovering over me, his breath hot against my neck.

“Fuck, koala,” he growls, his voice a rough rasp that sends shivers down my spine. “You feel so good. So tight for me.”

I dig my nails into his shoulders, urging him on, my legs wrapped tight around his waist, pulling him impossibly deeper. The friction is exquisite, a coiling heat building in my core that threatens to snap. I’m so close, just a few more strokes, and I’ll be falling apart around him.

“Mommy? Daddy? Are you sleeping?”

A small, sweet voice cuts through the haze of lust like a bucket of ice water.

Hayes freezes mid-thrust, his eyes going wide with panic. We stare at each other for a split second, chests heaving, the reality of Elsa standing on the other side of the door crashing down on us.

“Shit,” Hayes hisses, pulling out of me so fast I gasp at the sudden empty ache.

We scramble like teenagers caught by parents. I roll off the bed, grabbing at the discarded pile of clothes on the floor. My hands are shaking as I yank a loose shirt over my head, covering my naked, flushed skin.

Hayes is hopping on one foot, struggling to get his jeans back up his hips, buttoning them with clumsy fingers. The room smells heavy of sex, musk and sweat and arousal, and I frantically wave my hand, trying to dispel the evidence as I scan the chaos.

The nightstand is a disaster zone, our earlier movement had swept a collection of photo frames onto the floor. I drop to my knees, scooping up the small silver wedding frame that lies face down on the rug. I pick it up, setting it back on the wood surface. It’s not the large one from the living room, but this small one holds a weight of its own.

I stare at our faces for a heartbeat, young, tired, but deliriously happy. We’d gotten married a year after Elsa was born, a chaotic, beautiful whirlwind of a day that solidified this messy, perfect life we built.

Next to it, the graduation photo has slid dangerously close to the edge. I grab it, my thumb brushing over the glass. There I am in my cap and gown, Hayes standing behind me with his arms wrapped around my waist, looking at me like I hung the moon.

My OBGYN degree. The sleepless nights of residency, the endless studying, the moments I thought I wouldn’t make it, all of it led to this. I set it down carefully, a surge of pride warming my chest even through the adrenaline of the moment.

The last photo is a glossy print from a girls' trip with Charlie and Sophie. We’re laughing, drinks in hand, sun-kissed and carefree. I prop it up against the lamp, a reminder of the love that surrounds me.

“Coming, princess!” Hayes calls out, his voice cracking slightly as he smooths his hair, trying to look like a responsible father and not a man who was just balls deep inside his wife a minute ago.

He glances at me, and I see the lingering heat in his eyes, mixed with a desperate amusement. I blow out a breath, running a hand through my tangled hair to make it look somewhat presentable. Hayes reaches for the door handle, turning it with a slow click.

The door swings open, and there she is. Elsa, our three-year-old princess, looking up at us with wide, piercing midnight blue eyes that are a mirror image of her father’s. Her white-blonde hair is a messy halo around her head, sleep-mussed and adorable.

She’s clutching Diablo, tight against her chest. The dog looks resigned to his fate as a teddy bear, his big eyes darting between us.

"We're here for ‘bedtime story with Daddy’. He was taking forever, so I came to get him," she announced with a little tilt of her chin, stepping into the room like she owned the place.

She marched past Hayes, her tiny feet padding across the carpet before climbing onto the bed with a determined little grunt.

I couldn't help but laugh, the tension of the interrupted moment dissolving into something warm and impossibly soft.

"Bedtime story with daddy?" I arched an eyebrow. "And what story does Her Royal Highness want tonight?"

Elsa flopped dramatically onto the pillows, hugging Diablo to her chest.

"Not the dragon one."

I gasped as I said, "You don't like the dragon one anymore?"

She scrunched up her tiny nose, letting out a long sigh, "It's boring."

"Boring?" I pressed a hand to my chest in mock offense. "Excuse me. That dragon story is the best"

"It's still boring."

Hayes snorted beside me, earning himself a glare, before I narrowed my eyes at our daughter.

"Well then, princess, what story would you like?"

Her whole face lit up as if she'd been waiting for this moment her whole life.

"Daddy's story."

Little traitor. What story could Hayes have possibly told her? He barely reads the storybooks on the shelf in her sparkly purple room.

"The hockey one?"

She shook her head so hard her white-blonde hair bounced around her cheeks.

"No….The princess one."she beamed.

"...Which princess one?" I asked, confused.

She looked at me like I'd asked the silliest question in the world. "The one where the princess lived in a really, really big cage."

I blinked, I don't remember reading a story like that.

"And who told you that story?"

She pointed at Hayes without even looking at him.

"Daddy."

I slowly turned my head towards Hayes on the bed. But his eyes were elsewhere, he suddenly found the bedroom ceiling incredibly interesting.

I bit back a smile. A princess story.

"Oh? And what happens next?"

Elsa tucked herself beneath the blanket, her tiny voice dropping into the dramatic whisper only three-year-olds could manage.

"The princess had a mean, grumpy king for a daddy."

I heard Hayes cough suspiciously beside me.

"And then," Elsa continued excitedly, "the scariest monster from the enemy kingdom came and rescued her."

"He was very grumpy too," she added thoughtfully. "But only because he loved the princess and didn't know how to tell her."

I shot Hayes a playful glare which he answered with a suspicious shrug. A laugh escaped me before I could stop it.

"I like Daddy's story." Elsa quickly intervened.

"I can see that," I whispered, smiling despite myself as I brushed a strand of hair away from her forehead.

Our story could be a sweet fairytale, like the one Elsa knows. But that's if you omit the hurdles and the drama that came along with it. Maybe one day we'd tell her about the other things and she'll find it interesting.

But not tonight.

Tonight, she only needed to know that a princess escaped her cage... and found her happily ever after with her grumpy monster.

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑬𝒏𝒅.