Her lips part and I hear the soft intake of breath, staring up at me in disbelief and emotion so warm that it thaws the last coldest parts of me. She squeezes my fingers as she says, “I won’t ever leave you. Wanna know why?”
My heart pounds, and I smile. “Why?”
She smiles back, and the sight is so fucking beautiful, I have it committed to memory. “Because I love you, too.”
When she kisses me to seal that promise, I know it’s one neither of us will ever break.
Epilogue
DIANA
Two months later. . .
“. . . And, yeah, that’s basically what’s been going on these last few months,” I finish, blowing out a long breath. A small smile curves on my lips. “Sorry I haven’t visited you before this, Dad. But now you know it’s just been a little hectic.”
A breeze blows by, and my eyes fall shut, letting the wind caress my skin. My heart twists, and I choose to believe that was a sign from my dad, wherever he is, that he’s been listening to me talk nonstop for the last fifteen minutes about what’s been going on in my life. I open my eyes a few minutes later, the tears stinging but not yet falling as I smile at the headstone in front of me.
Benjamin Gregory Elliott
Beloved father, devoted friend.
I take in a sharp breath. “Happy birthday, Dad,” I whisper, hoping he can still hear me.
With the bouquet of daisies resting at his grave, I get up to my feet and brush the dirt and dry leaves off my jeans, before walking away. It feels as though I’m leaving a piece of my heart behind as I leave the cemetery, but maybe it will always feel that way. There won’t be a day that I won’t miss my dad, but I also know he wouldn’t want me to make my entire life revolve around missing him.
By the time I get back to the estate, I feel a little lighter, and a smile tugs at my mouth when I see Bruno’s car is here, along with the butterflies that erupt in my chest. When I walk into the house, the first thing that catches my attention is the unmistakable scent of brownies lingering in the air. In the distance, I can hear the sounds of Monica and Matteo laughing their adorable, shrieking giggles.
I walk into the kitchen, and my jaw drops even as I grin, staring at the sight before me. Clearly, they had tried to make brownies from scratch, judging by the flour smeared on each of their cheeks. “What is going on here?” I ask with a laugh, eyes widening in delight.
Three pairs of eyes look at me. Monica, Matteo, and Bruno, who looks just as much of a mess as his kids. It’s a wonderful sight, one that I want to be burned in my head forever. “We’re making brownies,” Matteo grins.
Next to him, Monica’s shoulders slump as she pouts at me. “We wanted to surprise you,” she says, sounding upset that the surprise is apparently ruined, looking up at her dad.
My heart melts as I press a hand to my chest before my gaze slides over to Bruno. He’s in his leisure clothes, just sweats and a shirt, gorgeous as always. Bruno walks over to me, my gaze never leaving him as he approaches me until his tall body towers over mine. “Well, I’m totally surprised,” I answer Monica, but my gaze is fixed on Bruno’s dark eyes.
I see the worry gently swimming in his eyes—an emotion he has started freely showing around me—along with others. He’s not as closed off and cold as he had been when we first met, and I know it’s because of how much things have changed between us. It’s a change I welcome. “How’re you doing?” Bruno asks me quietly, brushing a lock of my blonde hair behind my ear.
My chest thumps, and I adore the sight of the flour smeared on his cheek, some of his beard a victim to the flour as well. “I’m okay,” I say quietly, nodding. And I am okay, I realize. I hurt, as I always will, but it’s not too unbearable. Especially when Bruno gently grasps my hands and doesn’t break his gaze from mine. I jerk my chin toward the counter where the kids are. “Was this your idea?”
Bruno gives me a soft smile that makes my chest flutter even more. “I told the kids today was your dad’s birthday. They know he’s. . . gone,” he says carefully, and I nod. “And they wanted to do something for you. Hence the brownies.”
Warmth spreads through my body and tears sting my eyes, though these ones are of pure joy and the overwhelming feeling of being loved. “That’s so sweet,” I murmur, my hand reaching up to wipe the flour off Bruno’s cheeks. “Thank you.”
Bruno flashes another smile. “Don’t thank us yet—I have no idea what we’re doing.” That pulls a laugh out of me and he shrugs his broad shoulders. “I googled a recipe but, you know, they won’t be as good as yours.”
I roll my eyes, grinning. “Obviously not,” I tease. “Come on, I’ll help.”
For the next little while, the four of us work together making the brownies, and it has me feeling more relaxed than I had woken up this morning. Once the brownies are in the oven, I usher Monica and Matteo out of the kitchen to get cleaned up.
They run out, and just as I move to help Bruno clean up the counter, their footsteps come rushing back. “Oh!” I say, surprised when the twins both hug my middle, and my heart jumps as I look down at them but return the hug. I glance at Bruno, who is smiling as he watches us, his eyes full of a kind of warmth and love that had once only been for his kids, but now I know is also extended to me. Laughing lightly, I ask the kids, “What’s this for?”
Monica looks up at me, green eyes bright as she grins. “We love you,” she says simply, and those three simple words have my heart stopping. I can’t ever hear it enough—not from them, nor from their dad.
My hands rest on the back of their heads, throat tight as I will myself not to cry. God, I’ve been doing that a lot lately—but for good reason. “I love you guys, too,” I whisper, smiling down at the kids.
They both give me one last squeeze before rushing off, and I stare after them for a moment before releasing a breath and shaking my head. When I look at Bruno, who is eyeing me quietly, I shake my head. “I love those kids.”
Officially, I’m not Monica and Matteo’s nanny anymore since Bruno and I got together. But my time is spent with them for the most part, looking after them as if they’re my own kids—and, honestly, I believe them to be. After everything we went through, Bruno and I have gotten our heads out of our asses and committed to our feelings for each other. I’ve moved up into his master bedroom, and I’m currently in the process of selling my dad’s house after bringing over the trinkets he had collected over the years, and putting the rest in storage.