Chapter 135 Epilog 2

Chapter 135 Epilog 2
The backyard was chaos in the best way.

Laura sat on a blanket under the big oak tree, Clara in her lap. At six months old, Clara was a bundle of dark hair and wide eyes, content to observe the world with a seriousness that reminded everyone of her father.

"She's staring at Nolan again," Laura said as they approached.

Audrey looked. Clara's gaze was fixed on Nolan, who was trying to catch a butterfly by running in increasingly unsteady circles.

"She's fascinated," Audrey said.

"She's judging," Laura corrected. "Look at her face. That's a judgment face."

Clara, as if on cue, blinked slowly. Then she smiled—a gummy, toothless grin that transformed her serious little face into something radiant.

"She smiled at Nolan," Laura said, sounding betrayed. "She never smiles at me like that."

"She smiles at you all the time."

"When she wants milk. That's different."

Audrey laughed, settling onto the blanket beside her sister-in-law. "How are you? Really?"

Laura glanced at her, then back at Clara. "Tired. Happy. Terrified." She smiled. "The usual."

"I know the feeling."

"I bet you do." Laura nodded toward Nolan, who had abandoned the butterfly and was now running toward Finn. "Look at him. He's so confident. Where does he get that?"

Audrey watched her son launch himself at her brother-in-law, who caught him with exaggerated effort. "His father, probably. Elliot was never shy about anything."

"Except you," Laura said softly. "He was shy about you."

Audrey's heart squeezed. "That was different."

"Was it?" Laura smiled. "He was terrified of wanting you. Of needing someone that much. And now look at him."

They both looked. Elliot was standing with Javas and Kent, Nolan now perched on his shoulders, pointing at something in the distance. His face was relaxed in a way it never used to be, his guard down, his smile easy.

"He's happy," Laura said. "I don't think I ever saw him really happy before you."

Audrey watched her husband lift Nolan higher, their son's laughter ringing across the yard. "Me neither," she said softly.

Later, when Nolan was napping and Clara had been put down for her own nap, the adults gathered on the patio. Finn had shown up late—as usual—and was currently trying to avoid his mother's pointed questions about where he'd been.

"You're hiding something," Rebecca said, arms crossed.

"I'm not hiding anything." Finn's voice was too high. "I was working. You know. Work stuff."

"Work stuff," Laura repeated. "Is that what we're calling it?"

Finn glared at her. "Yes. Work stuff."

Elliot, who had been quiet, chose this moment to strike. "Is Mia coming today?"

The reaction was immediate. Finn's face went red, Laura started laughing, and Rebecca's eyes narrowed with interest.

"Mia?" she repeated. "Who's Mia?"

"She's no one. Just a—she's a—we work together. That's all."

"You've mentioned her before," Rebecca said slowly. "The manager. The one you couldn't stop talking about months ago."

"I didn't talk about her that much."

"You talked about her for three hours," Laura said. "I timed it."

Finn looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him. "Can we please talk about something else? Like Elliot's weird obsession with organizing the nursery?"

Elliot raised an eyebrow. "I'm not obsessed."

"You color-coded his socks, Elliot. Color-coded. Socks."

"Babies need structure."

"They need socks, Elliot. That's it."

Everyone laughed, and Finn's near-miss with Mia was temporarily forgotten. But Audrey noticed the way he glanced at his phone, the way his shoulders relaxed when a message came through. She caught Laura's eye, and they shared a smile.

He was gone. Completely, utterly gone.


After lunch, when the babies were awake and the afternoon had softened into gold, Audrey found herself on the bench by the garden. The same bench where Elliot had first told her about his father, about his fears, about the things he'd never told anyone.

She heard him before she saw him—the familiar rhythm of his footsteps, the way he moved through the world like he owned it.

He sat beside her, close enough that their shoulders touched.

"They're arguing about Nolan's shoes," he said. "My mother thinks he needs more formal shoes for family photos. Laura says children should be barefoot whenever possible. Finn is trying to sell them on tiny sneakers."

Audrey laughed. "And what do you think?"

"I think he should wear whatever makes him happy." Elliot paused. "But I also think the sneakers are pretty cool."

"Of course you do."

He took her hand, his fingers lacing through hers. "What are you thinking about?"

She looked out at the garden, at the flowers her mother-in-law had planted years ago, now blooming in riotous color. "I'm thinking about how I got here. How different everything is."

Elliot was quiet for a moment. "Good different?"

She turned to look at him. At the man who had once been a stranger, then a boss, then a protector, then a husband. At the father of her son, the center of her world, the person who had taught her that she deserved to be loved.

"The best different," she said.

He lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "I love you, Audrey Harrington. More than I ever thought I could love anyone."

She leaned into him, her head against his shoulder, watching their son run across the lawn toward his grandmother, who was already crouched down, arms open wide.

"I love you too," she said. "And I love our life. I love our family. I love—"

"Everything?"

She smiled. "Everything."

In the distance, Nolan reached his grandmother and collapsed into her arms, laughing as she swung him up and around.

Laura was walking toward them with Clara, Javas close behind. Finn was on his phone again, but he was smiling—really smiling—and Audrey caught the name "Mia" on his lips.

Rebecca was calling everyone together for photos, her voice carrying across the yard. Kent was laughing at something, his hand on his wife's shoulder.

The late afternoon light was soft and golden, the kind of light that made everything look like a painting.

Elliot's arm was around her, solid and warm. Their son was safe, happy, loved. Her family—her family—was all around her.

She closed her eyes for a moment, letting it all sink in.

When she opened them again, Nolan was running toward them, his face bright with joy.

"Mama! Dada! Photo! Gramma says photo!"

Elliot stood, reaching down to scoop Nolan up. The little boy settled on his hip, one hand reaching for Audrey.

"Mama too," he said firmly. "Mama come."

Audrey stood, taking his hand. "I'm coming, my love."

Nolan grinned, then leaned over to pat Elliot's cheek. "Dada happy."

Elliot looked at Audrey, his smile soft, his eyes bright. "Yeah, champ. Dada's happy."

They walked toward the house together—Elliot with Nolan on his hip, Audrey with her hand on her husband's arm, their family waiting for them with open arms and warm hearts.

It wasn't the ending of a story.

It was the beginning of everything.