Epilogue

4 years later,

“Atlas Malone, get your little feet right here, right now, or I will call your father, and—” My mini-sized Ares runs to his bed and jumps on it, giggling so much that he falls back and I catch him before his head bumps the bed frame.

Phew , saved the day. I’m out of breath, my back hurting as the little person in my belly keeps kicking me relentlessly. She’ll be a runner too. I can feel it.

How come I haven’t expected our kids to be fiery little people with little to no hope of getting them to focus on a chair for more than two seconds?

Wild, curious and eager to feel alive each second of their life.

Well, I guess it runs in the family…

“What’s going on here?” asks Ares, walking with his fists on his chest and mimicking a monkey, making our two years old burst into laughter.

“Daddy!” shouts Atlas, imitating his dad on his tiny bed, the bedsheets adorned with cars and trucks. My little man is growing so fast, it makes my eyes get all watery.

“I’m gonna catch you, Atlas. You better run fast!” Ares roars, cracking his neck and positioning himself like a sprinter on the starting lines.

Atlas runs toward me, hiding behind my legs, his laugh filling the space around us. Ares shakes his head, grinning, and then comes to us, circling my back, our son playing between our feet.

Our life is beautiful and I wouldn’t change it for the world. And just like anything worth it in this life, it comes with a lot of tough times and challenges, but we go through them as a team, and always get out of them stronger.

Atlas' arrival in our life was a major change two years ago, and I had to rethink my working schedule because I wanted to make him the priority. I took less clients and hired someone else to help me. I never stopped seeing Dr Ofenhaus in all those years, but I decided to only have a session per month to keep habits away. I’m still not fully healed, and maybe I never will be, but I can eat almost anything I want now without freaking out or even thinking too much about it. I think Atlas helped. I didn’t want to be a bad example for him, and in this sense it helped me grow and take my power back on my eating disorder.

“How’s my favorite girls?” He rubs his hand on my lavender, sequin mini dress.

Who said pregnant women couldn’t dress in party wear?

“Good, but your daughter has been hitting my ribs since this morning,” I complain, my head resting on his chest, his light stubble making me want to run my finger on his jaw.

“Fiery girl, just like her mother.” Ares grins, his rough hands trailing down my belly, feeling the soft kicks of our baby girl. I roll my eyes, though the smile on my face betrays me. Atlas, still hiding between my legs, pokes his head out.

“Daddy… baby… kick?” Atlas mumbles, looking up at Ares with wide, curious green eyes.

"She is," Ares confirms, ruffling his messy brown hair, the spitting image of him. "She’s getting ready to meet you." Lifting our two-year-old effortlessly into his arms, he asks him, "You’re ready to be a big brother?" Atlas nods, his little face furrowed in determination. My husband smiles back at our son but there’s something deeper in his eyes, something that shines and takes my breath away.

"You’ll be her protector, just like I protect you and your mom,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. Atlas giggles, but Ares’s gaze remains on mine, that unspoken promise between us growing stronger with each day, each laugh, each moment of our wild, chaotic life.

"I love you," I whisper, resting my hand on his chest.

Ares kisses the top of my head, then lowers his voice so only I can hear, "I love you, princess,” his emerald gaze locks with mine, “until my last breath, and even after.”

I bite my smile, my two favorite men in the whole wide world around me and our daughter snuggling in the warmth of my belly.

A home, a family.

Everything I’ve ever dreamed of.

I look at my husband and sigh.

Happiness.

Yes, right here. A love that can’t be shaken, no matter what life throws at us.

And I know, without a doubt, that Ares has found it too.