Epilogue

We laid Beatrice to rest a month later in a quiet cemetery on the outskirts of Dallas. She left her geriatric cat to me, and though I was reluctant at first, we managed to get along well. Minutes after Beatrice passed, a tornado touched down in downtown Dallas, heading right toward the hospital. The irony was not lost on me when I was completely unafraid of the raging cloud. The storm that had terrified me in my dreams had actually managed to bring an eerie calm on a day when I should've been anything but. It became clear to me in those few minutes when the large cloud raged its fury over us that what I feared most was the loss of control— that some deep-seated need in me craved to reign over things I had absolutely no power over. I couldn't change the past or the mistakes I'd made, and I damn sure had no ability to predict the future. And no matter how hard I tried, I would never stop the storms from coming. Letting go of that illusion of control had freed me in those moments, and I was never going back.

You live, you love, you lose. You fall down, and you get back up.

That was living. And if you can manage to weather the storm, you come out that much stronger and more capable of handling the next one .

No one lost their life that day, and the hospital suffered minimal damage. Somehow, I knew that Beatrice's passing had everything to do with that tornado. It was as if she was telling me not to be afraid.

I got her message loud and clear.

I married the love of my life in a small ceremony in his mom's garden. He looked on at me as I said my vows, his posture rattling with what I knew was pride and excitement. His eyes glittered as his love overflowed. And even though he had his own vows to recite, I felt his promise to me before he uttered a single word. When we were finally married, and he kissed me deeply to seal our fate, he raised our hands together and shook them in victory as our guests laughed. My husband was an amazing sight in his perfectly manicured tux and flawless hair, but what was most breathtaking was the way he regarded me. In those moments between I do and I do, I became keenly aware of what I truly meant to him, and it was then I knew that in our relationship, we both thought we loved each other more than the other.

My mom had always told my sister and me that when we found love to give it everything we had. That no matter the outcome, the result of handing yourself over to love would be that you had truly lived through the act of loving alone. She said the best part of falling in love was the fall itself. She added that the feeling can't be matched or replaced but only remembered as one of the biggest highlights of a person's life. I never truly understood her words…until today.

There is a saying that goes, "Marriage requires falling in love many times with the same person. "

As my husband took my hand to lead me to the dance floor and I gazed into his beautiful blue eyes, I knew we would have unseen storms to go through and times we may be uncertain about the future, but what I was absolutely sure of is that I would always look forward to the fall.

Dallas

Two and a half years later

I walked into my parent's house with my two screaming children, and as soon as I saw an adult in my line of sight capable of taking the noise away, I handed them over. In this instance, the adult waiting was Rose, who met my eyes with a small amount of sympathy and a large amount of amusement.

"Never, ever have sex again," I warned, absolutely exhausted as she took thirteen-month Annabelle from my arms, who was still protesting in her most authoritative voice that she wanted the purple yogurt that I had given Grant.

"This is over yogurt?" Rose asked, kissing Annabelle's plump cheek and soothing her back with her hands. She eyed Grant, all of twenty-two months, who stood by my side, arms crossed and shaking his head like a disapproving adult.

"That happened this morning . They are tired. Please make them disappear," I said, waving my hand in dismissal. I needed a few minutes to regain my senses long enough to be the mom they needed. I climbed upstairs at a slow crawl, my mom at the top of the stairs, a knowing smile on her lips, completely happy over my misery .

"Dallas, how are you?" she asked, chuckling as I pulled myself up at an agonizing pace.

"How in the hell did you do it, Mom? How? My God, I haven't bathed alone in years!"

"God made them cute so you won't kill them." She chuckled again, wrapping me in her arms as I hit the top of the stairs.

"I just want a bath with no interruption. Is that too much to ask?" I said, very close to selfish tears.

"Paul and Hilary are bringing over the twins. We can make a night of it. Towels in the closet, candles too, and there is some really awesome tonic in my bathroom. Go there. Go on, baby. I can handle this."

"Mom, I'm sorry for everything I have ever done," I said, hugging her tight.

"Go on, Dallas. That bath will change your life." She eyed me proudly as she brushed my hair behind my shoulders.

I almost skipped down the hall with renewed energy as I grabbed a fresh towel and some candles and made my way into the sanctuary of the bathroom. I undressed quickly and turned the water on as hot as my skin could stand it. I poured a small amount of my mom's tonic into the water, instantly smelling the citrus and breathing deeply. I lit two candles and stood in front of the mirror, studying my body. I had fared well with the birth of Grant seven short months after my wedding but had suffered horribly at the hands of Annabelle. There were faint but large stretch marks etched over the top of my stomach. Dean had told me time and time again that he loved them and thought they were beautiful .

Idiot.

I picked up my phone to call him as I stepped into the tub, getting him on the second ring .

"Hey, wife," he said sweetly, instantly making me long for him.

"How long will you be?" I asked, letting out a moan as my body hit the scalding water.

I heard a chuckle and then, "What the hell are you up to?"

"Me?" I replied coyly. "I'm just soaking in a hot tub surrounded by candles."

A throaty moan accompanied his next question. "Hmmm, is there room for me?"

"Absolutely not. I don't want to be anywhere near you or your impregnating penis," I teased.

"That bad today?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

I loved my children with everything in me, and so did Dean, but the truth was they were hellions.

"Look…stay far away from here. I love you enough to tell you to run. Run for your life! Go have an adult beverage with a friend…or better yet, have an entire dinner where you aren't interrupted, then go home and watch an hour of adult programming. Live for the both of us!"

More laughter, then a quick, "No, it was partially my penis that got us into this mess. I'll be there soon."

"If you insist, but the girl child has grown up a year since this morning. I love you."

I hung up then folded a hand towel in thirds, making a pillow for my head, when a soft knock at the door interrupted me, just a mere thirty seconds after I had found my Zen.

"No one is in here," I barked loudly.

"Dallas, I need to talk to you." Rose, of course, it was Rose.

"I love you, sis, but you will be hit with anything I can find if you enter this room."

The door opened, and I grabbed a handful of my mom's mini soaps, assaulting my sister with them .

"Stop it. Damn it, I need you!" she said, swatting away my flying weapons.

"Everybody needs me. I need a bath without interruptions, you selfish hag!"

"Fine," Rose said, pouting, slowly backing away, giving me just enough time to change my mind. I wasn't about to give in.

No way!

Damn it!

"What is it, Rosie?"

"Stop calling me that!" She walked over and put the toilet seat down, making herself at home. I sighed, peeking around the curtain to get a look at her.

"Spill it," I demanded with a sigh.

"I…I…"

"I…I…what? My water is getting cold," I whined.

"I slept with Jack," she said, peering around at me, catching my reaction.

"Well, hell yes, sister. It's about time! But I can't say that's a big shocker, Rose. Is that all?"

"He wants to start something with me." She sighed heavily before she continued. "I know Grant's gone, and I have to move on, but Jack scares the hell out of me."

I was overjoyed at the thought. It had been long enough, but I approached the subject with caution.

"Why does he scare you?"

"I don't know. He's amazing. He really is. If I hadn't…I just can't get over the thought I'm doing something wrong."

"Rose, moving on doesn't mean you didn't love Grant."

"You have to do better than that," she said in a whisper.

"Okay, how about this…Whatever you think you're doing wrong, you've put in that head of yours. You put that barrier there, and you'll have to break it on your own." I leaned back, ho peful that my little bout of tough love would do her some good. I'd tried everything to get her to start dating again a year ago. At least this was progress.

"I just hate feeling like this. I know Grant would be pissed at me for taking mourning him this far. I don't have a life. He wanted me to have a life, a family," she admitted. I could hear the desperation in her voice, and it ate at me.

"He wanted you to be happy, and that included giving you your dream of having a family."

"Yeah," she said, standing to walk out in an effort to flee the conversation.

"Sit down," I said forcefully. This was the most she had bothered to talk to me openly about moving on in months. I wasn't about to let her go back to the dark place she lived in when she wasn't at the clinic.

"You have so much left to give, Rose, and you've buried it. It's time to get back on the horse. I know what happened crushed you. I don't blame you for going inside and staying there, but you clearly want to come back out. If Jack's the one who gets you to do it, great. If he's not, at least open yourself to the possibility."

"I don't think I'm ready," she said dismissively.

"Then wait until you are, but at least you took that first step," I said, giving up on my bath and wrapping myself up in a towel. "I'm fond of Jack, and he's gorgeous and seems like a good guy. Just remember, guys like that don't just come falling out of the sky. It couldn't hurt to have some fun with him while you figure it out. And please, for the love of God, wrap it up tight."

She chuckled at my plea and added, "They aren't that bad." I lifted a brow as her chuckle turned into full-blown laughter.

"They are. They're awful!"

"They are also yours if anything happens to Dean and me, so take that, Rosie." Rose's eyes widened as she smiled warmly. I threw my clothes on, no more relaxed than when I walked in, but thankful for the few minutes I got alone with Rose.

We were only a month away from opening our cancer treatment center, a compromise we had come to easily after Rose and I had delved into the possibilities of a new idea for a practice—but our common goal was always the same. We wanted to be doctors, we wanted to make a difference, and we wanted to change the game. Once the decision was made, everything started to fall into place. The last two years of one break after another simply reaffirmed what I already knew.

Some dreams you were born with, some dreams you grow into, and some dreams have to be unveiled. I knew without a doubt that Rose and I had done all of these to the same dream.

We had both thrown ourselves into the task, and it had taken every amount of time, money, and energy we had to get it going, but it was finally coming to fruition. I would take the lead while Rose finished her surgical training, but she had been involved in every single aspect of the planning.

"One month," Rose said cheerfully as we exited the bathroom. I put my hands on her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. "Ready, Dr. Whitaker?" Her answering smile was all I needed.

We walked downstairs to absolute quiet. Rose and I stared at each other in shock when we rounded the corner to see both my kids watching my dad read them a book on the couch. Anna was half-asleep and was fighting her nod to stare up at her grandpa with wonder as he read in an animated tone.

Rose and I jumped as our mom approached quietly behind us. "Dean just pulled up. Leave them here. Meet him at the door."

I shook my head. "Mom, we haven't been able to leave Anna here a full night since she was a baby. You know she won't stay."

"Dallas, go," my mom ordered, pointing her finger. I hugged her tightly. "Put it on my tab?" I smiled and laughed all the way to the door.

I met Dean there, his expression one of confusion when I emerged and showered him with kisses.

"A-L-O-N-E, baby! Tonight is all ours!" He smiled as I took his lower lip, sucking it mercilessly, and chuckled as he stepped back to protest. "But, Anna—"

"Shht, shhht, no, no, no. We are free! That woman in there is Laura Whitaker," I reminded him. "She says she will handle it. She will handle it. Tonight, you, me, dinner, sex, lots of sex, and…if we have time, a few hours of the four thousand hours of TiVo we have saved."

He followed me, stopping me at the passenger door. "Dallas," he breathed out as his kiss trailed down my neck. I was instantly hot and jumped into his arms. He kissed me deeply and then pulled away, dazzling me with his crystal blue gaze.

"You still love me, Dean?" I asked, smiling.

"God, baby, do I ever," he said, grinding his hips into me. I caught his gaze again, questioning him without humor. "No, I mean, do you still want to be with me? Like the old and gray, death do us part kind of love me?"

"Of course, Dallas." He looked confused. "Where is this coming from?"

"Just making sure," I said, opening his car door.

"Obviously, I have a little work to do." He got in the car opposite me, leaned in, and gave me a slow sweet kiss.

"Where are we off to, my lady?" he asked, his eyes taking me in. I must've looked a mess in my T-shirt, jeans, damp hair, and no makeup. I pulled down the visor and gasped in horror.

"Home immediately to change."

"Dallas, you look beautiful the way you are."

I squared my shoulders and bit out my order. "Tonight, I want to be dined like a lady and screwed like a temptress, and I want to look the part. Home, Dean."

His eyes flickered with heat that I'd been missing for months, and I rubbed my hand gently over his crotch as he took off like a bat out of hell.

An hour later, I met him at our front door wearing the tightest red dress I had that sloped low, accentuating my cleavage, and some ‘do me' stilettos. I didn't have the body I once had. I was a mother of two, and it showed. I had rounded out some, my hips wider, still retaining ten or fifteen pounds that lingered, but somehow, I felt better than I ever had. Dean's eyes appreciated me as I shrugged my coat on.

"I love it," he said, leaning down, trailing his hands across my stomach, and reaching up to cup my breasts over my dress. "I love you," he murmured, wetting his lips and leaning in for a heated kiss. He turned me to face the door and slid my dress up, leaving me panting and shaking in anticipation. He massaged my ass and ran his finger under the thin strip of my thong. Seconds later, I heard the rip, and my panties were on the floor. He grabbed my hand and twisted it behind me, covering the huge bulge in his pants, and I moaned my appreciation.

"Now we're ready." I looked back in time to see his lips curve into a wicked smile as he reached for the door.

Yeah…we've still got it.