“No joke?” He asked, the corners of his lips twitching as he considered her words. Then he held up a fist, and she tapped it with her own.
“That’s my girl.”
EPILOGUE 2 - THE END
Jesse
The chime of the door opening would’ve passed unnoticed if the unmistakable sound of Eliana’s laugh hadn’t followed on its heels. Jesse’s eyes darted up from his spot in the corner booth, and he watched her enter, not once glancing his direction, before settling into a booth on the far side of the room. Milo slid onto the bench opposite her, both of them laughing at whatever he’d said.
Jesse watched as she gazed up at Milo, her expression warm and unmasked, her grin wide and toothy. It was an expression he hadn’t seen in so long that he couldn’t even remember the last time. There had been a time, though, he was certain. She’d once looked at him like he’d hung the moon in the sky, but not being able to remember thatlasttime was a gutting realization.
They were nearing the holidays, and he’d been holding onto the idea of a miracle. The hope that maybe things would stall in the divorce, or by divine intervention, shewould choose to pause proceedings and give him a little more time to make amends.
Watching her with Milo, however, made it clear that he’d truly and irrevocably lost her. It left him feeling breathless and hollow, knowing that she would never look at him like that again. That he’d never feel the warmth of her smile or the soft touch of her skin on his.
Eliana flicked a crushed straw paper towards Milo, shaking her head playfully, and Jesse stood, unable to bear the cozy image they presented. He dropped a twenty on the table and abandoned his meal, hurrying through the exit without looking back.
His hand found his elbow, giving in to the desperate urge to scratch, but his fingers only met the bandage his dermatologist demanded he wear. He’d gone to several doctors for second and third opinions before he’d finally accepted the fact that there was nothing wrong with his elbow. The issue was simply a psychological stress response. It was no wonder why he was stressed. In the matter of a month, he’d lost his wife, his home, and his job.
He’d finally been forced to accept a contingent business assistant role through a temp agency, just so that he could sign for a shitty studio apartment. But they treated him like an intern, having him do little more than fetch coffee and print copies.
It was a slap in the face . . . but it wasn’tprison.
He glanced at the city around him, breathing the frigid winter air deep into his lungs. The cold scalded the lining of his nose, but he couldn’t help but appreciate the burn. Eliana could’ve turned him in. He could’ve beenin prison at that very moment. Knowing he was only free because of Eliana’s mercy was not a fact he took lightly.
And above all else, he still had his daughters. His wife had left him, his parents thought he was a disgrace, and his friends abandoned him—but with Zoey and Abby, he still had a chance.
Over the years, he’d been careful to never play favorites. However, he’d always connected with Zoey the easiest—so it cut deeper when Zoey was the one who refused to come out of her room during his visits. She’d laid into him that first day he’d gone by, saying things that hit harder than anything else that had been said about him to that point. But he refused to give up.
He’d fallen into a routine, going by three nights a week to see if they wanted to talk. Zoey had yet to make another appearance, but Abby would come sit at the table and play cards with him. He knew she only came out because she pitied him, but he was not above pity. And he hoped, as the weeks passed, that he could prove with routine and consistency that they could trust him again.
He turned, stepping through the lobby doors of the brick building housing his therapist’s office. He signed in at the desk and took a seat near the windows to wait. Up to this point, he’d avoided talking about Eliana. He’d kept the topic trained on his daughters, as they were the reason he was attending therapy in the first place. It was a stipulation Eliana had added to the divorce agreement—a requirement for him to be allowed visitation.
Today, however, he realized that he’d only avoided the topic because he’d refused to accept the truth of the matter—to speak of Eliana like she was no longer a part of hisfuture. But when he settled into the cushioned chair opposite the stern-faced woman with the clipboard, he found himself telling the story of their lives together, of everything he’d put her through. Purging himself of the words he’d hidden away, and bearing the full weight of the guilt, regret, and sorrow he felt.
And with it, he finally admitted, both to the doctor and himself, that his relationship had reached its end.
EPILOGUE 3 - THE BEGINNING
More smut in the next one.
Mitch and Emma epilogue?!?
I’m not ready for the story to be over.
The townhome was a touch smaller than she’d originally wanted, but it washers. Zoey and Abby had fallen in love instantly, completely sold on the closer proximity to the city and their friends, and they’d taken to the change in scenery with a surprising fervor. Eliana wasn’t sure what they talked about in their individual therapy sessions, but they were clearly benefitting from it, having bounced back from Thanksgiving much quicker than Eliana would’ve anticipated.
It was Christmas Eve, barely a month past the night everything imploded, but Abby had already begun pulling back on leaving her guilty yogurt offerings sitting all over the house. Zoey was still processing some of the anger shefelt, preventing her from engaging with Jesse during his short visits, but Eliana was in no rush. They’d get there in time. Or maybe they wouldn’t. She was learning, slowly, to stop putting the weight of his relationship with the girls on her own shoulders. Yes, the girls would benefit from a healthy, sound relationship with their father. But if he couldn’t offer such a thing, she wasn’t going to be the one to force it.
He’d done what she’d needed him to do and signed the papers without argument. Once that was complete, she’d essentially washed her hands of the man, opting only to acknowledge his existence when a matter arose that directly pertained to one of their girls.
The doorbell rang, and Eliana smiled instinctively, already knowing who it would be. He’d asked to stop by that day, wanting to leave Eliana, Abby, and Zoey to celebrate Christmas on their own. To have a little bonding time in their new space.
Eliana strode to the door, pulling it wide and smiling at the sight of Milo on her doorstep, his arms laden with gifts.
“I thought we weren’t doing gifts?”
“Uh,” Milo grimaced. “These were from Santa?”
