31. EPILOGUE

EPILOGUE

Leighton

" F ive…Your limbs are getting heavy…"

Instead of keeping them closed, I blink my eyes open at the sound of my husband's voice.

He climbed out of the pool of our glass home while I was catching up on some much-needed rest on one of the lounge beds. While our daughter, Ebony, naps in her crib, the sunshade protects her fifteen-month-old little body.

Marcus towers over me. Water drips along the planes of his ripped body, cascading over the toned muscles of his chest. Wetting the three tattoos he has on his bicep, and along the scar on the lower left side of his stomach.

He's silent as he places his hands on his hips. As his gaze casts from our Ebony to me. His large frame blocks out the sun. It's not like I need it anyway. I'd rather drown in Marcus's darkness over sunbathing any day of the week .

Matter of fact, if this man is all I'll ever see, I'll never complain a day in my life.

"My limbs are pretty heavy as is," I tease, twirling a pink lock around my finger. His nostrils flare at the move he likes so much. "You're wasting your talents on me."

"Never." The slightest of smiles curves his lips up.

The dedicated father he is, Marcus walks over to Ebony's crib. He bends to check she's not too hot out here. Even though I did just that five minutes ago, I don't mention it. I adore watching him fret over our baby.

"We love making Mommy tired, don't we?" He picks the blonde miracle who's turned our lives upside down. She giggles, her chubby palm reaching out to pat him on the nose. "Yes, we do. She looks so pretty when she's sleeping, doesn't she?"

I hold back a giggle. Who would've thought this man was so into baby talk?

"Ma-ma," our girl answers him. "Ma-ma."

He chuckles, and his features morph for her. His endless love and dedication for Ebony soften his expression.

When he kisses her forehead, he's the man I remember from years ago. It's the same way he looked at Rylan. The same way he still does on their video calls. Or when we visit her in the mental hospital in Seattle, Washington, where she's been admitted for a year and three months now.

The police detectives weren't easily convinced by our version of the story. They asked us to repeat it over three times before they let it go .

Rylan played along as well and gave them her sweetest, most convincing googly eyes, then added some tears to seal the deal. With Milo's body never being recovered and Dr. Hatchett staying tight-lipped about who hurt her, they had no other choice but to believe us.

Then we got her the help she needed.

Under Dr. Burke Sinclair's care, the only psychiatrist Marcus trusts other than Dr. Hatchett, Rylan claims she's been doing better. That the hate for me has lessened.

Dr. Sinclair is hopeful. The older, handsome doctor says it'll take a long time, but he can help her. I share his hope. On the few video calls where we introduced her to Ebony, Rylan smiled at her in a non-threatening way.

Maybe it's Ebony's black eyes that remind her of Marcus.

Maybe it's like Dr. Sinclair claimed—the therapy and meds help.

Whatever it is, I see progress. We could all be one big family sometime soon.

"Where did your head go?" Marcus's voice pulls me out of my daydreams.

I turn my head to my left, finding Marcus has settled on the lounge bed with me, holding Ebony to his chest.

"Nowhere, really." Ebony's purple hat is draping to the side of her head, and I fix it back in place. When I tickle her belly, she laughs and wiggles in her father's arms.

"Leighton." He's less amused, though. "Do we need to repeat the no-lying conversation?"

Heat blooms in my belly. I would've taunted him, begged him to punish me had it not been for our daughter .

I opt for the truth faster than I'd have liked. "I thought about Ry." Our gazes clash, and he gives me the slightest nod. "Some days, I still blame myself for…all of this."

"No one's to blame for this. No one."

It took him a while to stop blaming himself. Dr. Hatchett has been a huge help, as has Marcus seeing his patients again. Helping others has helped him to find compassion for himself in return. It's been beautiful to watch.

"Yeah." I sigh. Most days, between my job and taking care of Ebony, I forgive myself too. I'm reminding myself that I'm only human. That life happens. "Just, some days, it's harder."

"It is." He keeps one arm around Ebony, reaching out for my hand with the other. "We'll get through this. As a family."

His attention flicks to my belly. Mine too. Where Rylan's and Ebony's younger sister or brother is growing.

"As a family." I smile when Marcus bends to kiss my lips.

I smile for the rest of the weekend too.

Same as I will for the rest of our lives.

Together.

The end.