Page 129 of Pope's Penance

He asks the question that would have had a quick, absolute answer in the past.Now, it’s a convoluted inquiry weighted with betrayal, with love, with redemption.

Then I see it in his eyes.

His love.

His regret.

His devotion.

His promise.

To love me.

To cherish me.

To always protect me.

And my answer comes easily.

“I do.”

“Then his death will be yours tonight.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, leaning across the console of the SUV and kissing his cheek.“I love you, Apollonos.”

His hand captures mine, and he brings it to his lips.“I love you too, Birdie.With everything in me.Until long after I take my last breath.”

My therapist told me that I can’t let my past define my future.If I hold on to what Pope did instead of paying attention to what he’s doing to show me he’s changed, then we’ll never make it.I either let the trust continue to build or knock it back down and walk away.

Loving Pope is going to hurt.

But it’s the beauty in it that is worth it.

It’s watching my kids call him ‘Daddy’.

It’s falling asleep in his arms every night and waking wrapped in them every morning.

It’s listening to him walk around the house singing fucking nursery rhymes while knowing he’s probably thinking about the enemies he took out earlier that day.

Loving Pope is freedom.

It’s chaos.

It’s a maddening surrender to the tempestuous emotions within my soul.

Epilogue

One Year Later

Istarearoundatthe transformed backyard of the clubhouse and run my finger around the collar of my white t-shirt as my eyes become a little glassy.

“Put the onions away, dammit.It’s my wedding, for fuck’s sake,” I grumble.

My brothers laugh as Gavel claps me on the shoulder.“It’s okay to be emotional, son.You’re finally getting to make her yours.”

“She needs to hurry before I go find her and throw her over my shoulder and fuck all the rest of this shit.”

Cyanide laughs.“Poppet will kick your ass if you fuck this up for her.”

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