Without hesitation, I sprint towards my car, not giving her even a second to speed off.And when I’m just a few feet away, I hear the sharp click of the doors unlocking. I push harder, my legs pumping faster than they ever have, until I reach the backseat door, fling it open, and jump inside.
“What the hell are you doing? Are you fucking insane?!”
She’s still staring straight ahead, but her chest rises and falls in quick, jagged bursts.
“I suggest you put your seatbelt on,” she warns, and before I can react, her foot slams the accelerator to the floor. The tires scream beneath us as I’m slammed back into my seat.
She tears down the road at high speed, and for once, I feel truly scared for my life. She swerves dangerously in and out of the lane, and my body is tossed around the backseatlike a ragdoll. Fear and panic surge through me as I lunge forward to grab the wheel, but she grips it just as tightly, refusing to let go.
In the next minute, it turns into a full-blown battle for control of the wheel. Our hands wrestle with each other, our screams echoing as the car swerves wildly. Before we can even process what’s coming, the blare of a truck’s horn jerks our heads towards the road ahead.
Instinctively, I yank the wheel to the left, Lucia’s foot still pressing hard on the accelerator. And as the car plows into the bushes, my entire life flashes before my eyes: the first day I met Hope in high school, the moment I got down on one knee and asked her to marry me, our wedding day in the South Coast, Zac’s traumatising birth, the night of his third birthday when I started my first affair...the day my wife and son left me.
It all plays in rapid succession, one memory bleeding into the next.
And just as reality crashes back in, I see it. The massive, solid tree barrelling towards us—growing larger by the second. There’s no time to think. No time to pray. No time to take every mistake back.
Just the deafening, violent collision.
And then—
Nothing.
Epilogue 2
Kaden
Fifteen years later — March, 2041.
Stopping in front of the kitchen window, I spot my wife and our two daughters, Willow and Lily, inside the greenhouse I built for Hope as my wedding gift to her. She’s teaching them how to care for each plant with the same patience and devotion she shows them, and they seem to have developed the same passion for it as their mother.
It’s one of the things I’ve always loved watching them do together, and I hope they carry that tradition with them long after they’ve flown the nest.Not that I ever want them to leave. If it were up to me, I’d keep them close, tucked under my roof, until their hair turns grey and their steps slow with age.
My girls have always been my pride and joy, and I’ve cherished every moment watching them grow into the young women they are today.Willow, with her sandy blonde hairand green eyes, is almost an exact clone of me, yet she takes after her mother the most.
At just fourteen, she already possesses the same fierce fire within her—strong and resilient, unafraid to speak her mind, and confidently doing so with a flower always tucked behind her ear.
“A pretty, smiling assassin”—that’s what her mother once called her, and she wasn’t wrong. Willow has a way of wrapping you around her little finger with nothing more than a sweet smile… and then—bam—she strikes, leaving you completely at her mercy.
And then there’s Lily, my youngest at twelve—she’s the perfect blend of Hope and me. Beyond her vibrant red hair, she’s a caring and creative soul who loves building and fixing things—a true daddy’s girl at heart and my mini me. She often tags along to the workshop with me, where we would spend hours crafting new pieces for our family business, Grant & Co Green Living.
I launched the business in the second year of my relationship with Hope, riding the wave of success from my online store. What began as a modest shop, offering furniture and décor made from reclaimed wood and recycled materials, soon grew into something far more prosperous, embracing plants and an array of products for gardening, celebrating the full beauty of sustainable living.
Of course, none of this would have been possible without the steadfast support of my wife and business partner. She has been the calm at the eye of every storm, the quiet forcebehind the decision to open three additional stores across Sydney. It was her unwavering belief in me that spurred me to push further than I ever thought possible, and today, we are fortunate to have more than forty devoted employees, including a production team, each bringing their own passion and heart to the work we love.
I smile, taking in all that we’ve built together—our beautiful family, our thriving business, our home filled with warmth and love. Life couldn’t be any more perfect.
And then there’s the remarkable young man Zac has become. At just twenty-four, he has already accomplished so much: topping his senior class in high school, earning immediate acceptance into a combined Honours and Master’s program in Architecture at the University of Sydney, and now, newly graduated with a double degree, carving his path at one of the nation’s most prestigious architecture and design firms.
To say we’re proud of him would be a gross understatement. We are perpetually in awe of the young man he has become, and he is the most devoted big brother to his little sisters, always taking time from his busy schedule to spend it with them.
Though we may not share the same blood, he is my son in every sense of the word. I have helped raised him for the past fifteen years, watched him grow into the person who he is today, and when his mother and I married thirteen years ago, I was honoured the role of his father officially and legally, a privilege I have cherished ever since. It still feels surreal, even now, hearing him call me Dad.
A sharp shriek jolts me from my thoughts, and when I flick my gaze back to the greenhouse, I see Lily gleefully spraying her mother and sister with the hose. The two try to scramble for cover, but Lily is hot on their heels, her laughter ringing out, bright, infectious, and a little mischievous.
I can’t help but burst into laughter at the scene unfolding before me. Willow has wrestled the hose from her sister, drenching Lily, who squeals and wriggles in an attempt to escape, but their mother is there in an instant, wrapping her arms around her youngest and holding her in place. Both girls are soon soaked, Willow’s relentless spray filling the air with their laughter, a sound that sends a wave of warmth through me.
Not wanting to miss a moment of the fun, I slip off my shoes and head out the back to join them. I’m just seconds from the door when the loud chime of the doorbell cuts through the air, echoing through the house. I groan in irritation, begrudging the uninvited guest who has dared to interrupt our family time.
