Family.
Love.
Home.
And somehow, without realizing it, I’ve found all three.
EPILOGUE
SAM
Five years later
“Bas,” I call as I tear after my three-year-old terror as he darts around the corner into the kitchen.
His little legs are a blur, his giggle a soundtrack to my chaos. With a frustrated laugh and zero real menace, I sprint after him.
Inside, the kitchen vibrates with energy, my team moving with precision and purpose. The scent of roasted garlic and caramelized onions fills the air, blending with the low buzz of conversation.
I glance around, expecting to see my son in the middle of his latest act of destruction, but he’s nowhere in sight.
“Stéphanie.” I spot my sous-chef plating hors d’oeuvres. She’s already grinning, clearly enjoying the show.
“Bas came barreling in here. Have you seen him?”
She chuckles, her soft French accent lilting through the noise. “You mean the adorable little boy who just ran off with his sister?”
“Paige took him?” I arch a brow, half relieved, half wary.
Stéphanie nods. “Oui. Out back.” Then she holds out a spoon. “Before you go, taste this. Tell me what you think.”
I lean in, letting the sauce hit my tongue. My eyes flutter closed as the flavors explode. Rich, balanced, unexpected. “Shit, that’s incredible.”
Her grin widens. “It’s for the pork tenderloin. Thought I’d test something new.”
“Test away.” I still taste it on my lips. “That’s going on the menu. You have to write it down before you forget.”
She blushes lightly and waves me off with a laugh. “Go find your family, Chef. I’ve got this.”
I grin, grateful as ever. Stéph’s a powerhouse—sharp, creative, loyal. One day, she’ll open her own place, and when she does, I’ll be first in line to eat there. Until then, I’m not letting her go without a fight.
Out in the courtyard, the party’s in full swing. Strings of twinkling lights crisscross the trees, casting a warm glow over the laughter and chatter. Balloons drift lazily in the soft breeze, and the scent of good food mixes with blooming camellias.
It’s Livvy’s birthday.
We closedCamelliafor the day, and while she fought me on it—claiming it was “too much fuss”—I’m glad I insisted. Seeing our friends and family gathered here, the life we’ve built, makes every moment worth it.
My heart swells as I take it all in.
Five years, and not a day goes by that I don’t wish my father Bas could see this. Seeus. I like to think he would’ve loved it—the chaos, the laughter, the joy. The little boy named for him, racing around with his big sister.
I’ve got everything I could ever want. Thriving restaurants. A son who’s pure sunshine and trouble. Two amazing stepkids who have my whole heart. And Livvy—my wife, my forever.
When I moved here to Toronto, Alec came too. I’d worried it would be hard on him, leaving Montreal, leaving behind the home he and Bas built. But it wasn’t. It turns out change is good for the soul.
He’s blossoming here—cooking, mentoring, living. We both go back often, but my home, my heart, is here.
At the far end of the courtyard, I find her.
