Epilogue 2

EPILOGUE 2

MOLLY

TEN YEARS LATER

The late afternoon sunlight spills into the kitchen with the scent of my homemade lasagna filling the air as I move about, preparing dinner. It's a peaceful moment, the calm before the inevitable storm coming when my nine-year-old twins get home from school.

But that tranquility is soon shattered by what sounds like a herd of elephants racing in the front door. I turn just in time to see Charles and Chelsea burst into the kitchen, their faces alight with excitement.

"Mom! Mom! Guess what?" Charles's voice is brimming with enthusiasm, his dark hair a tousled halo around his head. Although he's three minutes older than his sister, she is the one who takes control and runs the show.

"We both made the little league football team!" Chelsea cuts in before her brother can get the words out. Her green eyes sparkling with excitement mirror her brother's.

"Both of you?" I hardly have time to feel surprised before they're both hugging me with infectious delight. I wrap an arm around each of them and hug them close.

"Yes, Mom, both of us! Can you believe it?" Charles's excited voice echoes around the large kitchen.

Before I can respond, Hunt steps into the kitchen, looking every bit the proud father. His olive skin and dark hair, thick with a slight tousle, mirror our children's, making it clear whose genes won out.

"I think your mom can definitely believe it," he says, his green eyes twinkling with warmth. He places a kiss on my forehead before turning to the kids. "Especially since I'll be coaching the team this season."

"Wait, what?" I pull back slightly, looking at Hunt in surprise. I seem to remember him saying he'd never coach football. "You're coaching? How did that happen?"

He grins and the captivating roguish charm plays across his features. It's the same look that made me fall in love with him all those years ago. "Well, when you have a little princess who desperately wants to play football but thinks she won't fit in, you find a way to make it happen."

Chelsea beams, her pride evident. "Daddy said he would make sure I fit in, so now he's going to be the coach. He told Mr. Montoya that he'll make sure none of the little assholes in town give me any trouble."

"Chelsea Louise Sola, I don't want to hear that language, young lady." I glare at my husband over our children's heads. "And you," I point at my smirking husband. "Put a dollar in the swear jar."

"I'll put two in. One for me and one for Chelsea since my mistake led to her slip-up." He glances over and winks at our smiling daughter.

I let the little slip-up go since the kids are usually very well-behaved. "I'm so happy for you, sweetheart. And just so you know, you always fit in, whether Daddy's there or not. But I'm really glad he's going to be coaching your team."

Hunt winks at me, a silent understanding passing between us. He's always been our rock, and his willingness to step into this new role for our children's sake is just another reason I love him so much.

Charles hops from one foot to the other, barely able to contain himself. "Mom, are you going to come to all our games?"

I smile, ruffling his hair. "Of course, I wouldn't miss it for the world. I'll be there cheering louder than anyone else."

"Awesome!" Charles fist-pumps the air while Chelsea giggles.

Hunt moves to the stove and peeks into the oven. "Alright, guys, let's go wash up for dinner. Your mother made lasagna, and if you don't hurry, I'll eat it all before you get any."

"Dad!" They screech in unison before rushing off to the downstairs bathroom. While I dish up our dinner, I listen to them arguing about whose turn it is to wash their hands first tonight.

The sounds of Charles and Chelsea washing up for dinner echo from down the hall. The twins' boisterous laughter and chatter bring a smile to my face. Their excitement over making the little league football team is palpable and infectious.

My husband helps me dish up dinner, and I turn to him and hesitate for a moment to gather my thoughts. "What made you decide to coach the football team?"

He shifts his attention from the food to me, setting down the serving spoon. Well," he begins, running a hand through his dark hair, "it wasn't an overnight decision, that's for sure. I know I've always said I'm done with football, but I've been thinking about it for a while. Chelsea's been talking about joining the team for months, and I could see how excited she was about it. But she was also scared… scared that as a girl, she might not fit in or wouldn't be taken seriously."

"I understand that fear," I say, feeling the weight of her emotions through my own experiences.

"Yeah," he agrees, his voice softening. "We've always told the kids they can be anything they want and do anything they set their minds to." He shrugs. "I didn't want her to not pursue something she loves just because of other people's opinions. And with Charles also eager to join, it seemed like the right time to step in. If coaching means she feels supported and included, then it's worth it."

I couldn't love him any more than I do right now. "I love you, Mr. Sola. You're the best daddy in the world."

"I love you, too, Mrs. Sola, but don't forget the kids are too old to call me daddy." He reminds me of the conversation we had with the twins recently. On the first day of school, Charles came home and informed us that fourth graders are too old to call their parents "mommy and daddy" so we'll be "mom and dad" from now on.

"That's okay." I look over my shoulder to make sure no little ears can hear what I'm about to say then wiggle my eyebrows at my husband. "I'll call you daddy later on when they go to bed."

"I'm one lucky motherfucker." My husband pulls me close and covers my lips with his.

"We're both incredibly lucky." I smile against his lips as I melt into his embrace. "Now, put another dollar in the swear jar." We'll have that trip to Hawaii in no time.

"Yes, ma'am." He smirks and reaches into his pocket for his wallet. "Anything for you."

It's true. My husband would do anything for me. I don't know how I got so lucky to find him, but I'll be forever grateful to the insightful matchmaker who made sure I found my grumpy soulmate.

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