Epilogue

EPILOGUE

Leo

A week later

A tropical breeze blows through the open shutters. Stretching, I swing my legs off the bed.

The morning sun of my Costa Rican honeymoon floods the suite. My wife’s not here. She left a note that she was out for a morning walk.

I head to the bathroom, brush my teeth, run a hand through my hair, then meander to the deck to enjoy the sun and the coconut-scented air that reminds me of her.

Then again, nearly everything reminds me of her, but the reminders no longer hurt. They don’t mock me with what I can’t have. They’re a promise of all that I’m so lucky to call my own.

I pop in an audiobook and get lost in the modern history of this country. A few minutes later, the door snicks open, and I remove my earbuds.

“Morning, handsome.”

Lulu’s wild hair is even wilder here, framing her beautiful face. She waggles a white paper bag. “Rice and beans, flan, some mangoes, and I have coffee too.”

She sets the breakfast on the table on the deck, as the sun hoists itself higher over the ocean.

“Good morning to you too.”

“Oh, I also found this with the breakfast.”

She hands me a postcard of a couple kissing on the beach. Probably something she picked up at a local souvenir shop. “What’s this for?”

“Why don’t you take a look?”

I flip it over to find her handwriting.

My eyes widen, and my skin prickles with excitement chased by hope. “For real?”

Her smile touches my soul as she whispers, “For real.”

I cup her cheeks and kiss her, then read her words aloud. They’re the best words she’s ever written to me, and that’s saying something.

“ What’s a little bit of you, a little bit of me, still all new, and arrives in a birthday suit? ”