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Gave me a tight-lipped smile, her lips all but disappearing.
Stepping back, nodding like a dashboard doll, she met my eyes, laughed, and broke out the finger guns.
Later that night, my fiancé snoring like a moose beside me, I slipped out of bed and padded down the stairs.
I would not take my stepmother into this next phase of my life.
Kneeling, I reached under the couch.
I remained on my knees as I opened the box.
Well-worn and well-loved.
With one finger, I opened the front cover.
Inside, my father’s handwriting.
‘Ares, heart of my heart, I love you. I have always loved you.’
I breathed deep.
Pinched the bridge of my nose.
And rolled to my feet.
I slid the book onto the shelf beside the picture of my mom and dad, laughing at the camera as they held onto one another, my mother swollen with me.
And then I turned away.
A man could only take so much.
Upstairs, I slid under the sheets.
Groggy, Hope reached for me. “You okay, hot stuff?”
“Are you here?” I replied.
“Always.” She rolled back onto her side then backed up, nestling her bum into my groin.
I splayed my palm over Hope’s oh so slightly rounded belly.
And welcomed the life we made.
With wonder.
With gratitude.
Fearful, but with hope.
Always with Hope.
Epilogue – Famiversary
Hope
I lay in bed, listening to the girls banter back and forth in the kitchen downstairs. The bedroom door creaked open. A breakfast tray clinked down on the dresser. I smiled to myself but refused to open my eyes despite the maple and cinnamon tempting me to rise.
An equally tempting man opened the covers and climbed into bed behind me, his long, hard body spooning mine.
