Epilogue

ONE YEAR LATER

I stand a foot away from Mom and Dad's headstone. Jaxon lingers behind me, not interested in saying goodbye to them. If I don't give my farewells, I'll feel awful for the rest of my life.

Over the year since their deaths, I've learned it's best to let go of the past. It's something my therapist told me. I don't have to forgive them for what they did to me.

I mourn the loss of a mother who could've been better than she was. So many chances she could have taken to bridge the gap she put between us. Instead of treating me with love and care, she neglected me. Mom buried her head deep in her ass, and she chased the high of money and the idea of love. I was never good enough for her, but it's not my fault. It's never been about me or Jaxon. No one is responsible for other's choices and decisions. That's something I needed to hear a long time ago because it could have saved me a lot of heartache.

"I have schizoaffective disorder," I say numbly to the gravestone. "That's why I am the way I am."

Jaxon's presence moves closer behind me as he offers me his comfort. Like the protective brother and husband he is, he knows when I'm upset and when I need him.

His hand slips down my waist and settles over my stomach. He rests his chin on my shoulder, offering me his strength in this scary moment. Facing my fears is hard. Talking to the dead is harder because I feel silly, but my therapist suggested I do this.

She doesn't know everything that happened or that Jaxon is my half-brother. She just knows that Jaxon has been there for me since we were kids. She's aware that we tied the knot a year ago and are renewing our vows in a week. She also knows all about how my parents were and that I can't stop the nightmares about them.

"I'm not weird," I firmly say. "I'm not unlovable."

Jaxon tightens his hold on me, and he rubs soothing circles on my stomach.

"I'm not a failure, and I'm especially not too much ."

It still hurts that Mom said I'm too much to handle. That nobody will want to be around me because of the episodes of mania, depression, and psychosis. I didn't know I had this disorder during that time. Jaxon proved time and time again that I am worthy of everything good.

"He might be my half-brother, but he's so much more than that. He's my best friend. He's my husband, and one day he'll be the father of our children. I'm glad the both of you are gone because I would've hated for our children to have met you. You both would have been terrible to them because you never understood my relationship with Jaxon."

Angry tears sting my eyes as I think about all the things they would have said to our children. I swipe away the tears that break free, then turn in Jaxon's hold, burying my face in his chest. He folds his arms around me, hugging me tightly to him.

We say nothing. There's no need. Jaxon can say everything under the sun to make me feel better, but in the end, his hold gives me the comfort I need.

I lean my head back, inviting him for a kiss that he doesn't pass up. His lips press against mine, starting off soft and sweet before turning deeper as he ravages my mouth. He nips my bottom lip, catching it between his teeth, and sucks on it to soothe the sting.

"I love you," I whisper.

He cups the back of my head and kisses me, putting all of himself into it to show how he feels about me. He steals my breath away, and if I never breathe again, I don't want it any differently.

My brother completes me, as cheesy as that thought is. I'm set for life with him. There won't be a day when I doubt our relationship and where I stand. Jaxon always makes it clear that I'm his entire universe. He's my heaven. My everything. And I always let him know how much I love and care for him because, as much as our parents fucked me up, they did the same to him as well.

"I love you," he whispers against my lips. "Always and forever, flower."

I grin against his mouth and peck him one last time before I put space between us. He puts his hand in mine and raises an eyebrow, nodding toward his motorcycle, silently asking if we're done.

"Yeah. I want to go home," I say with a little smile.

He graces me with one of his million-dollar smiles and kisses the back of my hand before he leads me to his ride. Instead of placing the helmet in my hands, he slides it over my head for me.

His wedding band catches in the ray of sunlight, making the silver glimmer. I admire it for a moment with a tiny smile and raise my left hand to look at the diamond ring Jaxon commissioned for me. Despite knowing it's made from his cum, I still proudly wear it. What's the point of getting a new ring when this one is perfect? It's more personal and thoughtful than something that can be bought in any generic jewelry store.

Jaxon catches my wrist and kisses the middle of my palm. Goosebumps scatter over my arms, and I step closer to him, needing to feel his hardness against my softness. His dark eyes remain on my face, even though he can't see past the black tint of my helmet.

For a long moment, we get lost in each other, relaying so many unsaid things that don't need to be voiced. We've been through hell and back. In the end, we got our happily ever after. As he's said so many times: Fuck what everyone else thinks. We have each other and that's all that matters.

Breaking the moment, he puts his helmet on, and I climb behind him on his motorcycle. We race through the graveyard; the motor screams as we whiz past the old and new headstones. I hold on to him, enjoying the feel of his lean body against my curves.

We leave our parents behind us, never to return. There are better things to do, and we have each other now. Our parents can't stop us from being together.

My therapist may not know about my relationship with Jaxon, but the town does. Maybe she knows but has said nothing to spare my mental health. Either way, I don't care. I ignore the comments in town and the weird looks I often get.

Focusing on others took a lot from me when I should've focused on Jaxon. I now have the rest of my life to show him just how much I love him. Besides, if I cry, Jaxon will keep his promise. He always does.

Cry, little sister, and I'll kill them all for you.

THE END