Epilogue

Antoine

The view out the window was basically the same as when I was a little boy and yet so different. The backyard had swings back then, too, but not one like West had ordered with an animal theme and every kind of swing and slide the company offered. I'd objected that Sutton was too little for any of it except the extra baby swing he'd added on, but there was no denying our little man anything in my mate's eyes.

His nursery had turned out as great as my studio, with the loft I could use for naps when I got so into my work I didn't even want to go into the house. But so far, it had only been used as a guest room by the gallery owners when they finally came to visit. The studio itself was everything I dreamed of. The contractor took way too long, but it was worth the inconvenience and expense. Especially with our son starting to get into everything. The paint was not edible, and easels were not kid proof.

So I left all the tools of my trade in the studio and enjoyed watching out the window where West currently pushed Sutton in the swing. They were adorable together whether playing or cuddling or when Sutton fed him his dinner or just about any time. I loved them so much, sometimes I thought I would faint with the sheer intensity of it.

And gratitude.