Page 79 of Second Draft

I glance over at Joshua through the mesh of the playpen. It’s past his naptime, and already his eyes are closing. “Looks like we have at least thirty minutes to ourselves.”

Carter gives me a wicked grin, the one that after all this time still gives me butterflies. The next thing I know he’s lifting me against his chest, and carrying me upstairs to the bedroom, his hands moving over my body, getting rid of my clothing.

When we’re both naked, he bring his hands to my waist and places a hard kiss on my mouth.

“I love you,” I say, running my fingers across the new ink on his chest. Mine, and Joshua’s name written in a beautiful design over his heart.

His hands cup my face, drawing my gaze up to his eyes.

Blue.

Intense.

Captivating.

And so full of love that my breath gets locked somewhere in the back of my throat.

Every sculpted inch of his body radiates strength and possessiveness. There’s no fear when I’m with him because I’ve finally given myself to him, completely.

Epilogue

Carter

Three years later…

I can feel Layla’s eyes on me with every flip of the page. It’s her manuscript, the second draft of the one she had originally wrote, and it’s good. Really good. Not only because it’s well written, but because in a way it’s our story.

Two people who have to face seemingly insurmountable obstacles to be together.

I read the final paragraph and my chest squeezes, because she’s written her happy ending. No,ourhappy ending.

She knew that no matter how much they had lost, they had gained so much more. He was her one. The one. The only person who had ever made her feel truly and completely loved. It didn’t matter what the world thought of them, because with him by her side, every day was a fairytale come to life. And he was her happily ever after.

“Well?” She asks, when I place the papers on the table beside the bed. “What do you think?”

“It’s good.”

“Really?”

“Really.” I grab her around the waist and pull her down on my lap. “I’m proud of you.”

She gives me a small smile. “I’d never have finished it without you.”

“See. All my prodding worked.”

“Maybe. But that’s not what I meant. I would never have believed in the ending if I hadn’t met you. You’re the one that showed me happiness is possible.” Her brows draw down, and she says softly, “Even through heartbreak.”

I press my lips against her forehead, and let her words sink in.

Both of our lives have been filled with tragedy, and these past two years haven’t been any different.

Six months ago, I received a phone call informing me that Travis had been killed in a boating accident. He’d been drinking with a few of his buddies up on Lake Ontario. From what I was told, he’d been sitting on the side of the boat when he’d gone overboard, hitting his head when he fell. They pulled his body out three days later.

I swallow past the large lump that forms in my throat.

There will always be a part of me that feels guilty for not being more for him. But Travis made his own choices. Choices that almost always went against every piece of advice I’d given him.

We’d spoken a few times before his accident. And I’d sent him a couple pictures of Joshua.

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