Page 123 of Sweet Poison

“He did, my babies.” I clap my hands happily. “I told you he would!”

I turn and see my husband walking toward the plate of half-eaten waffles, and points at it. “The fat bastard ate most of the waffles, boys.”

“Wow!” Maverick shouts, his face lighting up with amusement. Wade giggles beside him, clearly just as entertained by the sight of their father devouring cold waffles.

A tiny hand wraps around me, and I look down to see my Wade, who looks and acts like his father most of the time but has the sweetest heart. He lifts his tiny hand and signs while saying the words: “I love you, Mommy.”

My heart squeezes with all the love I feel for my tiny, wonderful humans.

I sign back at the same time I whisper, “I love you, Wade.”

He smiles up at me, and I savor that smile, etching it into my memory to treasure forever. Then, with a burst of energy, he runs off after his brother, his laughter filling the room.

I watch them, my heart swelling with love and gratitude as they tear open their gifts. Laughter and shrieks of joy fill the room as they discover toy after toy. Some are ones they’ve been asking for all year, while others are surprises Madden and I picked out, knowing they’d go wild with excitement.

I exchange a knowing glance with Madden, who stands leaning against the wall, a proud and gentle smile tugging at his lips. There is something about seeing our boys so full of life and joy that makes everything feel like a dream come true.

“Look, Mom! It’s the car I wanted. Broom! Broom!” Wade shouts, holding up a box with wide-eyed wonder. He is practically bouncing on his toes, unable to believe that he got the toy he asked for.

Filled with love, I kneel beside my babies, feeling my heart bloom with so much I watch their eyes light up as they open their presents. “I think Santa knew exactly what you wanted,” I say, ruffling Wade’s hair as he hugs the miniature version of his Dad’s F1 car to his chest.

For the next hour, we become lost in the sweet joy of Christmas morning—wrapping paper flying everywhere,laughter echoing, and our hearts full to bursting. The boys continue unwrapping gift after gift, their giggles and shouts of surprise filling our home with joy and so much love. And as we watch our humans playing around us, Madden and I exchange smiles, knowing that these are the moments that we will treasure in our hearts forever.

Suddenly, the boys jump up and race to the back of the tree, grabbing a big box between the two of them before running back to me. “Merry Christmas, Mommy! Santa didn’t forget about you!”

“Open it!” The boys place the funny wrapped gift in front of me, then sign enthusiastically. “We helped Santa with your present, Mommy. Daddy did too!”Maverick looks back at his father for reassurance, and Madden smiles at his boys, encouraging them.

“Oh, thank you, my three hearts.” I giggle as I tickle the boys, then beam up at my husband. He winks at me, making my heart race. I tear open the gift to find a beautiful mushroom terrarium, and my breath catches.

So sweet. So, loving.

I can hardly believe how lucky I am to be their mom, to be sharing this beautiful, colorful, and wonderful life with them. With Madden by my side and our boys, who brought so much love and laughter into our world.

“Thank you, angel boys,” I whisper, kissing the tops of their heads.

Both boys sign, “Love you more, angel mom.”

Impossible.

With a smile on my face, I lean back and soak it all in. The living room decorations, the tree, the laughter of my boys—it all feels like a dream. A dream I don’t ever want to wake up from.

I smile to myself, my heart brimming with happiness, knowing that this Christmas—this moment with the love ofmy life and our beautiful boys—will be a memory that lasts a lifetime. And as I look at Madden and then our kids, I wish I could freeze this moment in time and keep them this young forever.

But one day, Wade and Maverick will be men, chasing after their own dreams. Until then, Madden and I will be here, keeping them safe, loved, and believing in magic.

Because that’s exactly what we are—magic.

Epilogue Three

WILLOW

“Our love was written in the stars.” — W

Ican’t believe I’m here.

At the Grand Monaco Prix, something I used to watch on TV. But now, I’m here— not just as a fan, but as the wife of the man who’s going to blow everyone away and claim the title of champion once again.

My man.

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