Page 178 of Restitution
I sob into him, and he doesn’t let me go, his hand at the back of my head, his chest shaking. “You waited for me,” he says againstmy ear, kissing my temple. “I hope you’re ready for the rest of our lives, Freckles.”
“Uncle Kade!” the twins scream, and he settles me down just before they collide with him.
EPILOGUE 2
KADE - 2 years later
“Pass me the flathead screwdriver.”
Roman Tobias Michell, my eighteen-month-old son, stares at his grandfather while he holds up the instruction manual he just spilled juice all over. He throws the papers at my dad then runs away giggling as Milo follows him across the yard.
I laugh and shake my head as Dad scowls at the back of my son’s head.
“I told you – you need to stop letting Roman near Barry’s kids.”
“He’s one and has you wrapped around his finger.”
He just grunts, because he knows I’m right. Barry and Dez are helping Ewan with the plastering inside the houseI built for me, Stacey and our son while my dad and I build a tree house for all the kids to play in.
Stacey has nearly fifty picture frames of my sketches to hang up – as soon as I was in the right state of mind, I bought a new sketchbook and didn’t stop until my hand hurt. My therapist is proud of me. He’s encouraging me to keep walking the path I’m on. It’s a path of accepting who I am, my past, my present, in order to claim my future.
And, man, my future is looking really fucking good.
Who knew Kade Mitchell would have a chance at happiness? I’m still coming to terms with it all.
Hopper, sadly, passed away six months ago. His heart just gave up in his sleep, and Milo hasn’t been the same since. Fuck, I don’t think me and Stacey have been the same since. If it wasn’t for Roman, I think Milo would’ve died of a broken heart the same day. He’s old – I don’t think he has very long left, so we make the most of the time we do have with him.
He’s my son’s best friend.
We found out a week after my release that Stacey was pregnant – she was sick a lot, slept a lot and needed my cock a lot, and me being the doting partner I am, I gave her every inch.
We got married a year ago. We didn’t want anything big and fancy – my family and Kyle all met up in Greece, and we got married on the same beach where I told her I was in love with her. Base carried Roman down the aisle with the rings. The twins were our flower girls, and Barry, Dez and Base were my best men while Tylar and Luciella stood beside Stacey.
She’s always been beautiful, but seeing her walking towards me with her hand in my father’s, a bright smile on her face, themother of my child and my entire future, I knew I’d won at life.
I wanted my nephew to be there, but Gianna is still being strict. I’ve only met Jason Junior in person three times. Three. And one of those times was accidental. Me and Stacey bumped into them in the mall, and I could tell she was uncomfortable as I greeted my brother’s son and tried not to break down.
He was nervous, and I didn’t want him nervous, so we set up a video call with them a few days later. And since then, he’s always calling me. And what makes it even better is that he’s just like his dad. The missing part of me that was stolen in a smaller form.
I’ll do everything to protect that kid, even if the visits will stay virtual until his mother feels comfortable enough for him to be fully in my life. It’s still hectic. I refuse every interview, threaten to beat the shit out of people who try to stop us in the street and ask Stacey rude questions, and the social media experience has been extreme.
I’m never on my socials now. Ever.
Stacey uses her platform for charities and for her studios. They always do shows now in the theatres, and my girl even performed a fire dance before we found out she was pregnant with our second.
I toss my dad the screwdriver, and we watch Milo and Roman play on the grass in front of us. He only just started walking – but all he does is run. It gives me a fucking heart attack half the time.
He’s got Stacey’s eyes. These big green forests staring back at me every night while I read him his bedtime story and he falls asleep on my chest. His hair is as black as mine, and he loves my motorbike, even if he does startle when I start it up.
“The twins were fighting over who got to hold my hand again yesterday,” Dad says. “Surprisingly, they seem to forget I have two hands.”
He’s still dead to the world – though I honestly think since he barely hides, they know and just leave him to it. He and Mum found their common ground when the twins were born. He still flirts with her, and she still rolls her eyes at him, but they’re friends more than anything else now. Maybe they finally grew up and stopped thinking it was perfectly acceptable to fuck around when she’s married.
But then again, they still love each other, so who knows.
“When do Desmond and Tylar leave?”
“Next month,” I reply. “They travel the world more than anyone I know.”
