Page 120 of Bittersweet Revenge

I nodded. “I would have gone to the end of the world for you, Esmeralda. I never feel complete away from you. If he feels he needs to try again, we should support him.”

She sighed. “I don't like when you’re the reasonable one.”

I grinned. “Me neither. I’d rather be your alpha asshole who loves to worship your heart and your body.”

She chuckled. “I love you, idiot.”

“But I’m your idiot.”

“Forever?”

I smiled. “Always.”

Epilogue – Esme

Ten years later

I stood by the bay window, holding Vickie’s brown teddy in my arm. I looked down at the beach where my husband was engrossed in the majestic sandcastle he was making with our four-year-old daughter.

It was a beautiful sunny day and unseasonably warm for November in Connecticut. Vickie had wanted to make a sandcastle and there wasn’t much Caleb would deny her.

He adjusted her coat, then her hat which sat on her beautiful blonde curls. My heart squeezed in my chest. I couldn't believe he had ever thought he would be a bad father.

He was the most attentive dad in the world. He used to take turns at night to help with the feedings and diaper-changes. And now, even when he was extremely busy with work, he always put us first, never missing a birthday, soccer game, or ballet recital.

This man was still the love of my life. I didn't think I could love him anymore than I had when we’d gotten together, but I did. Every time he made it home early enough to read a story to the children. Every time he made love to me like it was the first time, even though we knew each other's bodies by heart now. I loved him more.

This man and our children were my life.

“Mummy?” I turned toward my six-year-old son who was dressed as Iron Man. Oh, the irony.

“Yes Theo?” I smiled at him. He looked a lot like Archie, something he enjoyed teasing Caleb about.

“Is grandpa Luke coming today?”

“Yes, of course he is, baby.”

Grandpa Luke, my uncle Luke, was now Jacklyn’s husband – something that had almost caused Caleb to have an aneurysm. But they were both really happy against all odds.

“Why is that?”

“Because he is the best at making voices in stories!” He beamed. “And I have the new book daddy bought me for him to read tonight.”

“Ah,” I chuckled. “We won’t tell Uncle Archie or Daddy though, alright? It would make them sad.”

It would also make them super-competitive and as usual, they would go to extreme lengths to get the number one spot, no matter how trivial it was.

“Tell me what?” Caleb asked, his gravelly voice still making my heart squeeze in my chest all these years later.

I turned to find him carrying Vickie in one arm, her hat and coat discarded. She was the spitting image of her father – down to the sternness of her look. I felt bad for any boy who would ever show her some interest. Between her attitude and Caleb’s overprotectiveness, I feared for the poor guy's life.

Theo hugged his father’s leg. “Grandpa Luke’s coming tonight.”

“Yes, he is.” Caleb looked up to me with his half-grin. Standing like that, holding our daughter, it made me melt into a puddle.

I bit my bottom lip and his eyes darkened a little.

“Theo, are you done with the Thanksgiving decoration for the table tomorrow?”

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