Chapter 89 Epilogue(Part 1)

Chapter 89 Epilogue(Part 1)
Milie's POV

Three Years Later…

I was on my way home from the office when Alan's name flashed across my phone.

My stomach tightened.

I stared at the screen while my leg bounced nervously inside the cab.

No. I'll tell him face-to-face.

I took a breath and answered. "Alan."

"I was thinking…" His voice immediately brightened. "How about a two-day getaway this weekend? Just you and me."

I closed my eyes. Of course. Of all the weekends, he had to choose this weekend only. 

Alan and I had been married for a year now, and apart from our honeymoon, we hadn't taken a proper trip together.

Life had gotten busy. Very busy.

We were both working, and a significant part of our time and savings had gone into helping Dad stabilize his business again.

Things were much better, though. Dad no longer carried the same constant worry on his face.

I had my own career. Alan's career was thriving. We had built the life we once talked about.

But apparently, we had forgotten something in between. Us.

"What do you say?" Alan asked again.

My face crumpled. "Umm…"

That one sound was enough. 

"What?"

"Please, don't get angry."

He went silent. 

"I already have plans for this weekend."

"With your boys?"

I bit my lip. "Yeah."

A pause. "Both?"

"Yeah."

He gave a short laugh. Not his happy one. "And once again, husband not included?"

"Alan…"

"You didn't even think of suggesting my name? Right?" 

My forehead fell against the window. This would be our third trip without him.

The previous two times, Sammy had suggested that Alan should join us.

I had been the one to stop him. Not because I didn't want Alan there.

The complete opposite. I desperately wanted him there.

But I was constantly afraid of making Daxton feel as if I were forcing my husband into the little space that had once belonged only to the three of us.

So I kept balancing, adjusting, and separating things. But apparently, I ended up hurting Alan in the process.

"This one's different,” I said quietly. "Daxton planned it. He specifically said he wants just the three of us because he has something important to discuss."

"Right."

The disappointment in his voice hurt more than anger would have.

"Alan, please don't misunderstand."

"I don't."

"You do."

He sighed. "Why am I always outside whenever something important happens?"

My heart dropped. "Alan—"

"We hang out together almost every weekend." His voice softened. "I know Sammy. I know Daxton. We've known each other for years now."

"But somehow, when it becomes something personal, I'm still Milie's husband standing outside the gang."

"That isn't true."

"Really?" 

I couldn't answer immediately. That silence answered for me.

He chuckled faintly. "Forget it."

"No."

"It's okay, Mils."

"It isn't."

"See you at home."

"Alan—"

The call disconnected. I stared at my phone. "He hung up?"

I immediately called him again. He picked up.

"Alan, I'm sorry."

No response. 

"You're listening, right?"

"Hmm."

"Daxton really did say just the three of us. It's only a day trip. Morning to night. No stay."

Still no response. "And tonight, you and I can go somewhere nice."

"Hmm."

"Just us."

"Okay."

Only okay came out when he was really hurt. I smiled despite myself. My husband was officially sulking.

"Can you leave work early?" I asked. 

"How early?"

"Now?"

"Fine."

"I'll meet you at home. We'll go for dinner."

"Okay. See you."

Again, no love behind it. I shook my head, smiling. 

"Big baby."

But the smile disappeared almost immediately. Because underneath his childish sulking was something real.

For three years, Alan had tried his best not to change my life.

After I finished college, he never rushed me into marriage. He gave me time to settle into my career.

The company where I had completed my internship had eventually offered me a full-time position.

I accepted.

For more than two years, Alan and I survived a long-distance relationship filled with arguments, missed calls, surprise visits, jealousy, work deadlines, and ridiculous fights over who loved whom more.

Somehow, we survived all of it. Then, just four months ago, we got married, and I moved back home.

And marriage didn't take away the madness. If anything, it added to it.

We played stupid games after exhausting workdays. We competed over everything. We fought over blankets.

We stole food from each other's plates. Almost every weekend, Sammy and Daxton joined us.

Sometimes at our place. Sometimes at Mom and Dad's. Sometimes at a café. Sometimes nowhere in particular.

Alan had gradually become comfortable with them. Sammy had become too comfortable with Alan. 

But Daxton… That remained complicated.

He had accepted our relationship years ago. But there was still a strange distance between him and Alan.

Not hostility. Not anymore. Just an invisible line neither of them quite knew how to cross.

Alan never complained. In fact, he went out of his way to make Daxton comfortable.

He rarely became overly affectionate with me in front of him. Even after our marriage.

Around the boys, we often looked less like husband and wife and more like four idiots who had somehow been given adult responsibilities.

Twice a month, Sammy, Daxton, and I still had our old sleepovers. Alan never stopped me.

Never questioned me. Never made me feel guilty.

Sammy had asked several times if Alan could join, but Daxton never did.

And because I understood Daxton's hesitation, I never pushed him.

Maybe that was where I had gone wrong.

I had spent so much time protecting Daxton's comfort that I hadn't realized I was quietly teaching Alan that he still didn't completely belong.

My chest tightened. 

"I needed to fix that. Not someday, but today itself. I wanted to show him where he stands in my heart, in my life."

Instead of going to my house, I asked the driver to take me straight to Alan's.

Nana opened the door. "Nana!" I hugged her tightly.

She laughed. "You came directly here?"

"Yeah."

Grace aunty walked out of her room.

"We're going for dinner," I explained.

"Did you tell your Mom?"

"Yes."

I kicked off my shoes, dropped onto the sofa, grabbed a cushion, and buried my face in it.

Nana sat beside me. "Coffee?"

I groaned into the pillow. Grace Aunty laughed.

"What happened?"

I lifted my head. "I hurt your son."

"Again?"

I glared at her. "Aunty."

She sat across from me. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything."

Both women stared. I sighed. "Fine. I did something."

Nana smiled knowingly. I told them about the trip.

About Alan wanting a weekend away.

About Daxton asking for the three of us.

About Alan feeling excluded.

"I want to take him," I admitted. "I actually do."

"Then take him," Grace Aunty said simply.

"I can't. Daxton specifically said—"

Just then the doorbell rang, and my eyes widened. "He is already here?"

I jumped up. "Don't tell him I'm here."

Before either woman could respond, I shoved my shoes into the rack and ran upstairs.

Nana opened the door. I pressed my ear against our bedroom door.

"Hey, my son," Nana said. "How was your day?"

"As usual."

I pressed my lips together. "Yep. Tantrum still active."

"Nothing new?" Nana asked. 

"What possibly could happen?" He replied, sulking. 

I almost laughed.

"My heart is apparently built to remain unaffected by everything." He added. 

Grace Aunty burst out laughing.

My eyes widened. Wrong move, Aunty.

"Alan," Nana intervened quickly, "go take a shower. Maybe your mood will improve."

"My mood is completely fine."

"Of course."

"Anyways, we're going out for dinner."

"Wonderful."

I hurried into our bathroom. Then stopped. My heart started pounding.

"I never succeeded. I hope, today, I do."

I took a deep breath and turned on the shower. My hands trembled as I heard the bedroom door close.

Part of me wanted him to hear the water and turn around. The other part desperately hoped he would enter. 

I started stripping myself, and as I got into my stark nakedness, the bathroom door opened. 

I froze. 

"Milie? What are you—"

Silence.

"Oh, shit. I'm sorry."

He immediately turned around.

"I thought you'd be at your parents' place. The door was open. I didn't know—"

I stared at his back. Of course. Even now. Even after one year of marriage.

He wouldn't look unless he knew I was comfortable. A smile slowly appeared on my face.

"Alan."

"Hmm?"

"Wait."

He stopped. I walked toward him. Then I slipped my fingers into his hand.

"You don't have to be sorry."

His shoulders stiffened. "Milie…"

"You can look at me."

He shook his head. "No."

I stepped around him.

"I know you're not comfortable," he said quietly. "You don't need to prove anything to me because I'm upset."

"I'm not." 

His eyes stayed firmly on my face.

I took a breath. "I want you to look at me."

His expression changed. My courage almost vanished. Almost.

But for once, I didn't hide. I let him see me. All of me. 

His breathing changed. But what surprised me was that his eyes didn't immediately travel downward.

They stayed on my face, searching, making sure I was comfortable. 

"Are you okay?"

I nodded. "Nervous."

A tiny smile appeared. "I can tell."

"Don't make fun of me."

"Never."

Then, slowly, his eyes moved, not hungrily, not greedily, almost reverently.

And instead of feeling exposed, I felt seen.

My throat tightened. 

Alan looked back into my eyes. "You're beautiful, Mils."

I laughed nervously.

"You've said that a thousand times."

"And you've believed me max twice."

I smiled. "Maybe three times."

He stepped closer but didn't touch me. "Can I?"

That simple question nearly made me cry. I nodded. His arms closed around me.

I hid my face against his chest.

"You know we can still turn all the lights off for the rest of our lives if that's what makes you comfortable."

"I know."

Alan had never seen me completely naked yet. Even after marriage, I preferred darkness whenever we were intimate.

I changed clothes behind closed doors.

I avoided standing completely bare in front of him.

He never forced me. Never mocked me. Never demanded more.

But sometimes, I saw the frustration. Not because he wanted to look at my body.

Because he wanted me to believe him when he said he loved every part of me.

"You never owe me this."

"I know."

I pulled back enough to look at him.

"But I want to stop being afraid of you seeing me."

His thumb brushed my cheek.

"I'm trying, Alan."

His eyes softened. "That is more than enough."

I smiled.

Then I remembered why I had come. "I also wanted you to know something."

"What?"

"You're not outside my life."

He watched me carefully. "Sammy and Daxton are part of who I grew up with."

I placed my hand over his heart.

"But you…"

My voice softened.

"You're where my heart chose to stay."

His expression changed immediately. "Milie."

"Your happiness matters to me."

"Your sadness matters."

"When you're hurt, I feel it."

"When you smile, I feel that too."

I swallowed. "Never think you're less important because I'm trying to protect my friendship with them."

Alan sighed. "I don't want to compete with them."

"I know."

"I just don't want to always feel like the guest who married one member of the gang. That hurts."

I wrapped my arms around him again. "I'm sorry."

He kissed my hair. "This trip wasn't your fault."

"No. But the previous two were."

I looked up. "Sammy asked to include you."

Alan raised his brows. "I know."

"You knew?"

"He told me."

"Traitor."

Alan laughed. "I didn't say anything because I knew why you were doing it."

I groaned. "Why are you so understanding? It's annoying."

"I have my moments."

"Very few."

He squeezed me.

I smiled. "Can we do something?"

"What?"

"A week-long road trip."

His brows shot up. "Just us?"

"Just us."

"No Sammy calling you every hour?"

"I'll block him."

"No Daxton emergency?"

"He'll survive."

"No parents?"

"We'll call them."

"No office?"

I paused.

"That one requires negotiation."

He laughed.

"What happened to Mrs. Independent Career Woman?"

"She'll use her vacation days responsibly."

"Good answer."

"If my manager refuses, I'll beg."

Alan grinned.

"Much better than resigning."

I poked his chest. "One week."

He pretended to think.

"You're sure?"

"Damn sure."

"Only me?"

I kissed his cheek. "Only you."

His smile made my heart dance.

"I love you more than anyone, Alan."

"And I love this confidence."

His eyes briefly moved over me. I suddenly remembered my current state.

My hands flew instinctively across myself. "Oh, God."

I turned. Alan laughed.

"Stop looking."

"You literally told me to look two minutes ago."

"I've changed my mind."

He wrapped me up in the towel, picked me up in his arms, and dropped me on the bed. 

I peeked up at him. He smiled. “Better?”

I nodded. He kissed my forehead. “Get dressed. I'll shower. Then dinner.”

I nodded. He started walking away, and then glanced back.

"Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you want me to cancel dinner."

My cheeks heated. "Shut up."

He laughed. "Crazy girl."