Epilogue - Part One

Cole, 5 years later

Samson’s head rests on my shoulder as he snores. He’s been like this the entire bus journey home from our game two states over. We’re all exhausted. After nearly ten failed away games, it was about time we got a win.

Ever since I got scouted at my last ever college football game, my world has kind of been insane. Between my mom going to work in London after her second divorce to Gavin, I barely see her unless she FaceTimes, and even then, she’s in a different time zone and we usually miss each other.

I know she’s there for me, just like she knows I’m there for her. She’s happy, and that’s what matters. Her divorce from Gavin was pretty quick. Within weeks, she was free, and he remarried months later.

When I graduated and landed a spot on the team, I was worried about how me and Blaise would figure out our relationship. He was still in college, I was out in the wild, and we were trying the whole “living apart” for the worst two years of my life. Seeing Blaise only on the weekends and holidays was horrible. We were both needy and miserable, but we made it work.

I stare down at the ring on my left hand. It’s a plain white-gold band. Blaise has the same one, both with our initials engraved inside. He’d dropped to one knee when he showed up at my apartment in Cal a week after his graduation, and everything has been full steam ahead since.

The bus slows to a stop in the small neighborhood near Blaise’s company building – a businessman who lands deal after deal, completely dominating my income. I nudge Samson off me, and he groans.

“You sure you don’t want to stay at our place until tomorrow?”

He shakes his head and rubs his eyes. “I’ll wait at the airport.”

“Right.” I tell my team I’ll see them at practice in two weeks, since we now have time off, and I grab my bags and climb off the coach.

It drives away, leaving me with my suitcase rolling behind me, a yawn on my lips as I pull my luggage up to our gate. Entering the code, I check to see if any of the lights are on, but none are.

My phone ran out of battery this morning, and I haven’t had time to charge it, so I haven’t spoken to Blaise. He’ll be worried. He hates it when I travel, always checking in to make sure I’m okay. So my husband is probably losing his fucking mind right now.

Even though my dad is dead, thanks to him, he still panics.

The memories are there. The worry. The voices in our heads that haunt us. We both have nightmares that have us waking up in cold sweat, but we’re always there to comfort the other. My anxiety attacks have since vanished from the moment we bought this place.

I open the front door, and both Wesley and Boomer run to me—our golden retrievers who have only just left the puppy stage and stopped chewing up everything and shitting all over the house like they’re competing for the World’s Worst Puppy award.

Tossing my keys in the entryway bowl and dropping my bags, I crouch to fuss with their ears and get kisses, and then I glance around the dark house.

“Blaise?” I call out, listening for a TV or shower or even the fucking snores, but silence…

I stand. “Blaise? Are you home?”

Sighing, I pull the charger from my bag and plug my phone in, leaving it sitting there as I push my hands into the pockets of my sweats and hunt the house. The kitchen is dark, but a glass of wine sits on the counter, the bottle still full. The sitting room is empty, and when I check upstairs, I see the bedroom, bathroom, and spare bedrooms are all dark too.

He must be out with Tiago and Mia—they’ve been insufferable about spending time together ever since they decided to go official from their friend-with-benefits status.

I was always against it, seeing as Mia was Blaise’s ex and all, and the fact we both fucked her, but it’s not like that. She’s happy for us, and she’s happy too, so we all win.

Fuck knows what Allie is doing. Probably on her second husband by now. Jackson got bored of her real quick and they’ve been radio silent on social media since.

I sit down on the bed and lie back on the mattress, yawning again, but something out the corner of my eyes has me glancing out of the balcony doors. A flicker of orange.

Getting to my feet, I open the door to the balcony and tilt my head, leaning my elbows on the stone wall. Blaise is standing in front of a small fire, staring intently into the flames like he’s in a trance.

Even from here, I can see how handsome he is. The sharp contours of his face illuminate from the flicker of embers around him, and I watch as he blows out a breath and runs his hand through his hair.

It takes me less than a minute to get to the back door, and I head into the yard. The moon lights up the expanse of it. We wanted to buy somewhere with a large area around the building, a few acres of woodlands too.

I gulp as I reach him, standing in front of the flames opposite him. And when he doesn’t look up or speak, I grow nervous. “Hey.”

Nothing. His jaw ticks, and he blinks twice.

“Is something wrong?”

His eyes snap up to mine. “You tell me.”

I huff and put my hands in my pockets again. “You’re the one sulking in the yard at three in the morning.”

“Samson had his arm around you in that picture that was posted a few hours ago. And you didn’t reply to my messages.”

A smirk pulls at my lips, and I stifle a laugh. “Is my husband jealous?”

He glares at me. “I’m not jealous.”

“No?” I say, walking around the flames until I’m in front of him. I look him up and down, loving the way he doesn’t even have on a shirt. My name is inked over his heart. “Then what are you, if not jealous?”

“I’m pissed,” he retorts. “Your phone was off.”

“It died.” I grab his jaw, tugging him to me. “Are you going to stand here and sulk, or are you going to kiss me and come to bed?”

“Neither,” he replies, shoving me in the chest so hard, I take a few steps back and frown at him. He opens a bag I never noticed at his feet and tosses me something.

I catch it, staring down at the blank, black face mask in my hands. I look at him in confusion, my head tilted.

My heart instantly accelerates as he grabs another mask. His eyes light up at my expression, at the way my cock hardens between my legs and rises in my sweats as he slides the mask onto his face.

A white one with a crack down the side. The same one I wore all those years ago.