Epilogue

One year later

"Can I see him?" Melody tugs on my hand. At seven, she's developed a slightly alarming crush on Oskar. I've tried telling her that she can't steal my boyfriend, but apparently he's just as smitten with the kids as they are with him.

I've tried, I really have, but I just can't hate it.

"Not yet," I tell her. Thomas is somewhere behind us on a business call. From the sharpness of his voice, he's not impressed at being disturbed when he'd explicitly said he was not to be contacted except in cases of emergency.

Behind him is my enormous collection of luggage.

Layla claps her hands together in delight. "There he is."

There he is indeed. I needn't have bothered standing on my tiptoes to see him through the crowd—he's half a head taller than most other people. He's grown his hair out since I saw him last month, and he's wearing the biggest grin when he sees us.

"Layla!" he says when he gets close, sending me the shadow of a wink. "Melody. How are you both?"

They squeal and throw themselves into his arms. Something that, thanks to his slightly intimidating amount of muscle mass, he manages without so much as a stagger.