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Epilogue
Barrett
It was early in the season in Kennebunkport and there weren’t too many tourists, as we made our way along the small but lively main street, past home-made ice-cream shops and cafes, old bookstores and places that promised the best live catch in the country. My offices looked out over the marina, and I loved to spend my break times watching the world go by. I was no longer the impatient and hectic man who’d once lived in New York city and run himself ragged chasing success and happiness. Only once I’d stopped chasing it, did it come.
I turned my attention to my other hobby. My long held, dearly cherished guilty little pleasure. I opened the security app on my laptop screen and pulled up the feed of the house. We lived in a sprawling beach house Emma had decorated to her heart’s content.
On the screen, like the obsessed husband I was, I hunted for my wife. I found her in the hall, a mug in hand. She was wandering toward the bedroom, and I followed her with my eyes.
I should get to work.
I should stop.
Maybe tomorrow.
For today, I was watching my sexy as hell wife, and I was pretty sure she knew it.
Emma got dressed slowly, in something far more dressy than she usually wore to study at home. She was just finishing up her degree and planned to study further. I was proud of how far she’d come, and would support her in any way she wished. Chloe and Henry had settled into their new school in the small beach town, and were happier than ever. Every night I was home at four, or I took the chance to pick them up myself from school. Walks home along the beach with melting ice creams or salty fries were some of the best days. In the last six months, my life had changed so much, I still couldn’t believe it was real.
I watched the woman responsible for the harmony of the entire family. Chloe and Henry had accepted Emma as their stepmother in a way even I couldn’t have expected. They were closer than close, and gradually, the nightmares had stopped, the bedwetting and anxiety. My children were healing, and Emma was the cause of it all.
I watched her on screen, sitting down to put on makeup, and wondered where exactly she was going. My and Emma’s schedule was pretty predictable, and I liked that. She knew where I was at any one point, and I knew where she’d be too. Today, getting dressed up and going out was unusual. On top of that, Emma was checking her phone compulsively, something she never did. Tension gathered in my gut. Was something wrong?
I checked my watch. I had just enough time to get home and steal a kiss from my wife before she went about her day.
* * *
I madeit home in record time.
The house that we’d bought was at the end of a quiet residential street, a ten-minute walk to the boardwalk, but views out the front over the water. It was idyllic and perfect.
I let myself in and took my sandy shoes off. There was always a fine patina of sand on every single thing in the house, and I didn’t care at all. I started toward the stairs.
“Through here,” Emma’s voice called to me, and I froze in the hall. I turned toward her voice, and found her sitting in the window of the kitchen, sipping tea and smirking at me.
“Hello, sweetheart, I just came home to kiss you,” I told her, dropping one on her head.
“Really? You weren’t coming to check on me?” she asked, but her voice was teasing. She knew I watched her from time to time. I knew she was aware, specifically, from the days when she dressed up and played about with me. One day when she’d strolled out the bathroom in new lingerie, laid down on the bed, and played with herself, I’d broken some kind of speed record getting home. It might be weird and kinky, but the nanny cams and daytime afternoon delights gave us plenty of fun with each other when the kids were at school.
“Maybe a little. You looked worried,” I confessed and sat opposite her. I had just sat down when Emma stood and spun herself around, sitting on my knee.
“I was just waiting for you…” she bit her lip, and smiled softly at me. “I have a secret,” she nearly whispered.
“Really? And what’s that?” I watched as she pulled a small plastic strip from the pocket in her dress. I knew those kinds of strips. My life had changed years ago based on one of them, and now it was changing again.
“I know we already have two kids-,” she started, and I cut her off, pressing my lips to hers, and stealing the words before they could come out. A tear dripped down her cheek as I pulled back.
“Yes, we have two kids, and soon, three. I can’t believe I get to be the father of your child, Emma Bonneville. I’m the luckiest bastard in the world,” I murmured reverently. She smiled, her tears forgotten, and happiness shining straight out through her beautiful face.
“So, that means you’re ready to do it all again? Sleepless nights, and diapers and prams and car seats?” she asked, laughing as I hugged her closer.
“With you? Fuck yeah. I can’t imagine a better adventure,” I pressed her closer, and savoured the feeling that now, I got to hold this woman, kiss her, hug her, love her, until the end of my days. I really was the luckiest bastard in the world. “Hey, at least the nanny cams are already set up,” I teased her, and she laughed loudly, a full-on belly chuckle that made me feel like the king of the world.
“Yes, you weirdo stalker, they are,” she grinned at me.
“I’m your weirdo stalker,” I corrected her.
“Yes, you are, and I wouldn’t change that for the world.”
* * *
