EPILOGUE
BLAKE
Four years and one month later
Over the years,I’ve nurtured many fantasies most people would call disturbing. When I find myself having thoughts that I know aren’t the norm, I generally choose to explore them. It’s the same way in business. Most times when I’ve acted on outside-the-box ideas, I’ve gained two or ten times more than the competition who stayed with the sure thing.
The captive bride fantasy, the one where I have locked up a bride I purchased at an auction is one of them. I considered a role play, but didn’t go quite as far as finding a partner. So I let that fantasy go. It’s been years since I’ve thought about it.
Looking back at the night I saw my wife, I think the suppressed fantasy returned, albeit quietly, like a little devil on my shoulder whispering I should take the opportunity as it has presented itself because God, or even the universe, works in mysterious ways.
Had I not gone with my instincts and instead walked away from the auction, my wife would still be in the coffee shopdownstairs from my office instead of running a nursery two buildings down from the hotel, where our guests place their babies for free while they’re on vacation.
I hadn’t planned to turn the hotel into a family-friendly place, but since the addition of a private nursery, the family visitors have doubled, and the word of what we offer spread. It wasn’t even my idea. Nessa asked if this was something I would be interested in. Of course I said yes, even though I doubted it would work because of extended paperwork and regulations but I made it work since Nessa wouldn’t settle on staying at home.
I respect a person who wants to earn their own living even if she doesn’t have to. Doesn’t mean I like it. I’d much rather she be barefoot and pregnant and kneeling in the hallway when I get home from work.
Smiling, I tsk. There’s another fantasy I’m gonna have to arrange the next time she’s pregnant. For now, I’m content with a two-year-old boy who’s currently rolling in the grass at a mobster’s son’s birthday party and a baby girl who’s sleeping on my chest and drooling on my suit while I idly chat with my wife, my phone left at home so nobody can reach me. They can all wait until Monday. I have more pressing things to do with my time.
Like wait here until the baby wakes up, when I can change the diaper full of the most foul-smelling crap in the universe before I pass out from it. But that’s okay because time is king, and I found the queen of mine for all eternity.
