Epilogue

Grayson

10 Years Later

I slowly peel open my eyes to find two sets of blue ones staring back at me. Macy's side of the bed is empty when I reach for her. I groan and sit up, causing the little girl in front of me to giggle.

"Where's your mother?" I ask.

"She went running without you," Dominic says in his sweet, seven-year-old voice. He jumps on my legs hidden beneath the comforter.

"Can you make us chocolate chip pancakes? Pretty please?" Delilah, his twin sister says, dragging out the last word. She jumps on my other shin.

I quickly reach out and grab both of their ankles, causing them to fall on the soft mattress and let out their childish laughter—my second favorite song.

"Tickle him!" Delilah yells. My children tackle me on the bed and shove their tiny fingers into my sides. My laughter fills the room, summoning our elderly husky, who has just as much energy as she did when we adopted her.

She hops on the bed, bathing the three of us in kisses, and then the most beautiful woman I've ever set my eyes on walks through the bedroom door. Her tan skin glistens with sweat.

She freezes, taking in the scene. A bright smile spreads across her face, and she runs and joins the kids in tickling me. I grab her waist and pin her down, making her eyes widen. "Tickle Mommy!" I say.

I hold her wrists while they tickle beneath her armpits. Her laughter touches my ear, and even to this day, it's the most beautiful sound I've ever heard. She squirms beneath me, and then I release my hold on her and climb out of bed.

"The last one to the kitchen gets mommy's pancakes!" I call, sprinting down the hallway. Even with the head start, Macy whizzes past me, our twins on my heels. I slow down, letting them win. I feign shock. "How did you two get to be so fast?"

"We got Mom's genes," they say in unison, repeating the sentence Macy loves to throw around whenever they beat me in a race.

"Is that my grandchildren in there?" Macy's dad walks through the sliding glass door with his wife following close behind. Macy's mom gives her a hug, which is quickly interrupted by Delilah, who pries herself in between them, squeezing her grandma's legs, who is visiting for the summer, like they've done every year since Macy moved here. My mother-in-law smiles at me over my wife's shoulder. I return it warmly.

I lift Dominic up, causing him to gasp from the unexpectedness. He giggles when I put him on my shoulders. I bring us to the pantry to grab everything I need to make breakfast, and when I spot a frilly apron in the corner, I laugh to myself and put it on. "Why do you wear that every time you make breakfast?" my son asks, but as soon as we step out of the pantry, Macy's hysterical laughter fills the room and my stomach warms.

"That's why," I say. I feel his gaze on me from above. He starts to squirm, but I can't see what he's doing. Macy doubles over in laughter, and I catch sight of us in the reflection of the sliding glass doors. Dominic dances wildly to make his mother laugh. That's my son.

Delilah rushes over to us, dancing similar to her brother, and then Macy joins us, grabbing our daughter's hands and twirling her around. Everyone's laughter cascades around us, and Daisy's high-pitched howl pierces through the air.

I pull Macy to me, pressing my lips against her smile, embracing the loud room. Joy fills every corner of our home, and to this day, my theory proves true.

It's bigger than the grief.

The End.