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A dozen more questions are thrown her way, more of them focusing on our relationship than anything else.
Cursing silently, I turn toward them. “She’s not ans—”
Penelope tightens her hold on my fingers, giving me a reassuring smile before turning her attention to the room of nosey people and flashing cameras. “Grateful. I feel grateful to be here with Sebastian. Grateful that nobody was seriously hurt and sad that we couldn’t help Mr. Stone. My thoughts are with his family.”
Silence follows as people stare at her, transfixed, not that I can blame them. I’m transfixed with her too.
As soon as her last word is out, more people start throwing questions at us from left and right, and I’ve had enough.
“Alright, that’ll be all folks. As you can probably imagine, we’re both wiped out after everything that has happened and want to get back home so we can recuperate in peace. I’d like to ask you to respect that and our privacy at this time.”
Grabbing Penelope’s hand in mine, I pull her into my side, and we make our way to the black car waiting for us. I hold the door open for Penelope, Henry’s head peeking out almost instantly. Penelope laughs, pushing him back inside as she slips onto the seat, and I follow after them. Penelope leans down, her forehead pressed against Henry’s as she scratches the dog and coos softly only for him to hear.
“Where to, sir?” the driver’s gaze meets mine in the rearview mirror.
“To the airport.”
The driver nods, closing the compartment between him and us just as Penelope straightens, and turns to me. “We’re going home?”
“I’m already home.” Placing my hand over hers, I intertwine our fingers. “You’re my home, Birdy. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
EPILOGUE
PENELOPE
A few weeks later
“When do you think they’ll finally leave you alone?” Jade asks, a note of irritation in her voice.
“Just ignore them. They’ll eventually give up,” I say evenly, trying to ignore that tingling of attention where I could feel eyes on me.
True to Mrs. Black’s prediction, after the press conference at the hospital, most of the reporters were satisfied and more than happy to leave us alone. But there were still a few stubborn ones that followed us to Blairwood, hoping to get the next big story. What they thought that might be, I had no idea because our life here was pretty boring, to say the least. Not that I had anything against boring. After what happened in L.A., I’d take boring any day of the week; thank you very much.
“It’s been weeks. You’d think they’d get tired of trailing after you already.”
“As long as they stay far, far away from me, I don’t give a crap about what they do.”
Which I didn’t think would be the case, not after Sebastian almost punched one guy for getting too close to me a few days ago and threatened to get a restraining order if he didn’t back off.
Was it wrong for me to feel tingles of excitement at the display? Because I did. There was just something about how he worried about and protected me that gave me all the feels. I didn’t feel suffocated by his worry. He didn’t make me feel weak or like I couldn’t do something. Sebastian was the first one to jump when I said I wanted to do or try something new, but at the same time, he always made sure I was safe.
My head snaps up at the sound of my name. “Henry, counter.”
Grabbing our drinks, we head out of the café.
Cold November air hits me in the face, making a shiver go down my spine. I tighten my fingers around my cup as Jade and I walk side by side.
“At least his fans aren’t harassing you any longer now that he made you guys Instagram official.”
I lower my head, trying to hide the warmth creeping up my neck at her comment. “There are still some nasty comments, but yeah, for the most part, things have calmed down.”
Those first few days, after we just came back to Blairwood, were spent closed in my apartment. Sebastian was still in pain, but he refused to take any sort of pain meds after leaving the hospital, the stubborn man. So he found different ways to take his mind off the pain.
This led to him asking if I’d be okay with us trying Brianna’s approach to our problem and going public.
It made sense. I had to give him that. People already knew who I was, and they didn’t have a problem telling me exactly what they thought, although they didn’t know anything about me. Not really. How much worse could things be?
So, I agreed.
