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“You’re not,” Gabby reassures me, her hand sliding along my leg – and dangerously close to a place that might not have us leaving the hospital for a little while. “It’s not a dream. It’s real. It’s a dream come true.”
Extended Epilogue
One Year Anniversary
Gabby
I set down my knife and fork on the side of the plate with a sigh. “He’s done it again,” I say, shaking my head in wonder. “Absolutely delicious.”
“What’s that? Is that my favorite customer I hear?”
I hear a familiar voice and turn my head, laughing.
Marco stands watching us from the kitchen door, his arms folded over his chef’s whites as usual. Oz lifts a hand in greeting, grinning at him. “You knew full well we were here.”
“I did,” Marco admits, walking over to our table. “I just wanted to make sure everything was perfect for you in the kitchen. One year already, eh?”
“Yes,” I say, reaching out for Oz’s hand. Our wedding rings glint in the dim lights of the restaurant as we entwine our fingers together. “And it couldn’t have been a better year.”
Marco makes a face, teasingly. “Disgusting, the pair of you,” he says. “No little one in tow?”
I shake my head. “Deanna’s with my parents,” I tell him. “They’re here for a month visiting, so we roped them in for some babysitting duty while we have them.”
“Ah, that’s a shame,” Marco says. It makes me laugh – this gruff chef, part of a profession of famously unyielding men, always turns to putty whenever we come by with Deanna in her stroller. “Well, a night to yourselves. What are you planning to do with it?”
Oz’s eyes sparkle with the real answer. “We’ll see how the night goes,” he demurs, but even the hint of it sends a shiver racing down my spine. I wonder if he feels it, too.
I’m sure he does.
Marco holds up his hands in an expression of surrender. “Say no more,” he says. “I’m guessing you’d like the bill, not to stick around for coffee.”
“As delightful as your coffee is,” Oz says, inclining his head yes.
“I’ll get that sorted for you,” Marco says, making a gesture in the air towards the waiter, who nods understandingly and hurries to work. “Enjoy your anniversary, you two.”
“Oh, we are,” I assure him. “Thanks, Marco. Your food hits the spot every time.”
“Glad to hear it,” he grins, disappearing into the kitchen again.
I look up at my husband, our hands still joined together on the tabletop. “Ready to go?” I ask, reaching for my purse.
He nods. “I’ll settle up on the way out. Do you want to go anywhere before home?”
I pretend to think about it. “Well, we could stop by the campus,” I say slyly. “I might have forgotten some work in one of the lecture rooms. It’s fine, though. I have my access card, so we’ll be able to get in.”
“Well, I wouldn't want you to go without your work,” Oz says, winking at me. We get up, and I fish around in my tiny purse for my keycard as he pays.
Even though it’s summer, I’m still splitting my time between studying and being a mother. The benefit of them allowing me to go part-time while I gave birth to Deanna last year is that I get more time with my family, but the downside is that I don’t really get much of a break through the year. Summer is a time to catch up, to make sure I’m not falling behind my peers on the same course.
But it also means I get to go to campus when it’s almost deserted, and no one bats an eyelid about me being there.
We walk down together, taking advantage as always of how close everything really is in central London. At the campus entrance, the security guard looks at us in our expensive evening wear with a certain level of doubt, but he can’t argue with my student card and Oz’s alumni card. We’re inside, and walking down the hall to where my lectures are usually held.
Until I yank Oz to the side, pulling his arm sharply and opening a door at the same time.
It’s only when the door closes behind us that he reacts, our bodies close together in the enclosed space. “Is this a cleaning cupboard?” he asks, his voice innocent and curious as if he doesn’t know what we’re doing here.”
“No, darling,” I tell him, winding my arms around his neck. “It’s a closet. Now, hurry up. We don’t want to get caught by the janitor.”
And even in the dim light from the hallway, which at this time of the evening is lit only with scattered, low-energy bulbs, I can still make out his grin.
Extended Epilogue
Sometime later...
Oz
“Dadda’s home!” Deanna exclaims, the first sound I hear when I open the door. It’s followed by the sound of her rapidly running feet, pitter-pattering over the tiled hallway in that way she does that always puts my heart in my mouth.
