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“We were right there.” I squeeze her shoulder, love coursing through me. “We’re always going to be right here.”
“I know.” She looks over at me with light dancing in her eyes. “I love you so, so much, Roman. More than I could ever explain.”
“I love you more,” I say passionately.
We stay like that for a long time, sitting in a cocoon of warmth and contentment in the parking lot, until a light summer rain starts to fall.
And when our eyes meet she giggles and I laugh, as we remember the million raindrops that brought us to this moment, this perfect forever.
Extended Epilogue
Some Time Later…
Rayla
“I am the monster,” Roman roars, leaping out from behind the couch.
The children laugh like crazy.
At least, those old enough for laughter do.
Liam and Sebastian break into giggles, our ten and eight year old always goading each other on. They’re so similar in their love of mischief, except that Liam has my brown hair and Sebastian has his father’s – and sweet Millie’s – blond.
Elena and Isabelle fill the air with their laughter. The five and four year old are just like their older brothers, fused at the hip, often turning our house into a fairytale land of dress-up and play as they experiment with different fabrics and styles.
Elena spins away with all the pomp and grandeur of a five year old on a mission, her long dark hair trailing behind her. “Fine, wicked monster, then come and see if you’re tough enough.”
I sit at the back of the room, the raindrops lightly pattering against the window, each one filling me with more and more love. Trent lies peacefully in my arms, his eyes closed, even as his dad and brothers and sisters make mayhem bare feet away from us.
Trent, of all my wonderful children, has cried the least of all my children. He’s a precious peaceful bundle of joy.
“Do not tempt me, girl,” Roman says, standing up to his full height and holding his arms at his sides.
Even if this is all rehearsed – the children all wrote the play together – I have to admit he looks imposing as he rears up.
My husband had gotten burlier with age, his arms thicker. Every part of him swells with muscles and protective impulses, as though the animal inside of him knew he had to become stronger to keep us safe.
I smile as my chest glows brightly, the play continuing with Roman charging at Elena only to have Liam and Sebastian and Isabelle leap in his way.
Roman covers his face as they present their magic wands – really just games console and TV remotes – and groans as he sinks into the armchair.
“You’ve got me… you dastardly kids, you got me.”
I was so impressed when Liam used the word dastardly in the script. He’s taking after his father, that’s for sure… or his aunt. Roman has gone on to write more bestselling books since that magical week in the cabin. And Millie has written eight books, many of them bestsellers too, all under a pen name because she didn’t want to use her dad’s name.
I’ve acted in plays, television, and three movies, and all of them have done well, letting me say, I am an actor once and for all. I make my living by pretending to be other people.
But nothing is as sweet as being me, as being blessed with this life – my real life.
“Mommy,” Elena whispers out of the corner of her mouth, as though there’s a crowd watching and she wants to be discreet.
“Hmm?” I murmur. “Sorry, I was away in the clouds.”
“It’s Trent’s line,” Roman says, as he smiles at me.
“Dad. Monsters don’t speak,” Elena sighs.
Roman grins and mimes sealing his mouth.
Oh, right.
Trent’s line. I forgot all about it.
Lifting him very gently, as though he’s about to address them, I move my head behind him so they can’t see me. They can just see their precious little brother. It’s so hard not to giggle though, and Liam and Isabelle’s laughter tells me I’m not alone.
“Enough games, punks,” I say, doing my best baby voice, holding little Tent, as more giggles escape me. “And stick ’em up.”
None of us can hold it together after that.
We all break up into laughter, the whole room filled with it, as love dances in the air.
