“Yeah?” Vanessa says as she walks in, stopping just behind me.
I turn to face her. “Did you use my officewhile I was gone?”
“Yeah,” she says carefully. “Was that okay? Should I not have?”
“No, it’s fine,” I reassure her. “More than fine. I was just curious.”
I realize I’m learning more about her now than I ever did before. She’s protective of the kids, of me, and I don’t mind it at all. I want to know everything she did over the last year, everything she held together, and what she wants for herself now after spending so long focused on everyone else.
“So,” I ask softly, “what do you want to do now?”
“What do you mean?” she asks.
The twins are down for the night, and we’re lying in bed together.
“Well, you left your job and started working for your brother because of me.”
“I wouldn’t say only because of you. I knew I eventually wanted to work for him and help out. You being held captive just pushed up the timeline.”
“So I’ll ask again. What do you want to do now?”
“Take everything one day at a time,” she says softly. “I don’t want to overthink the future. That’s all I’ve done for the past year.”
I smile at her. “I can get on board with that.”
The woman beside me is the same one who took my breath away a year ago with her pride and joy. But she’s also someone new. A mother. A fighter. A woman who didn’t let anyone or anything break her. And I want to know every part of her.
“So,” I say casually, “what do you think about another baby?”
She laughs, pointing toward the nursery door. “Can we get those two on an actual sleep schedule first?”
Right on cue, one of the babies starts crying.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
EPILOGUE
VANESSA
FIVE YEARS LATER
“Mommy.”
I feel the blanket being tugged off my body and groan as I open my eyes. It’s Saturday, which means Mateo’s in charge of breakfast. Every other day, that’s on me.
“Hi, kiddo,” I say to Victoria, her light brown hair and green eyes filling my view.
“Daddy made breakfast. Are you hungry?”
I push myself up. “Yeah. I’m going to get your brother, and I’ll be down in a second.”
“Okay,” she says, already running out of the room and down the stairs.
I head down the hall to the nursery and find the youngest bouncing in his crib. After the twins were born, we had two more kids. Our daughter, Marisa, came almost exactly nine months after Mateo got home. Then, six months ago, we welcomed our son, Dominic.
I lift Dominic from the crib and carry him out of the nursery. He has Mateo’s dark hair and looks more like him every day.
When I walk into the kitchen, all the kids are sitting at the bar. Marisa, with her blonde curls, and Julian, with his dark brown hair, both have their backs to me.
