A Moment of Truth: A Complete Bonus Set (A Matter of Trust #1-2) (55 page)

Epilogue

Even with my clunky bags slung over my shoulders, I’m still trying to get inside quickly
and
quietly, which isn’t easy given it’s nearly four in the morning. After being away for almost a week, which feels more like month, I finally arrive at my apartment door, excited, and a little unsure of what I’m going to face on the other side. I do my best to fish out my key from my bag in silence, but every sound seems magnified a million times in the middle of the night.

After inserting the key into the keyhole, I click it to the right, and slowly creek open the door. It’s silent inside.
Phew.
Quiet is good this time of night.
I tiptoe in and switch on a table lamp in the living room, which illuminates the sheer disaster from my week away—clothes are strewn about, blankets are unfolded and draped as tents across the furniture, and toys are everywhere. Walking through the living room without stubbing my toe is like trying to avoid a land mine, but I’ve had several years of practice now. I drop my bags in one clear area by the door and creep to the bedroom.

I gently push open the bedroom door. The nightstand light is still on, softly illuminating the sleeping faces, which are clumped together in the king-sized bed. Tiny mouths are slack, breathing in their tiny breaths. Their cheeks, pink and round, are relaxed and squished against their father who lies in the middle, sleeping soundly, even if he is covered by five- and three-year-old limbs.

I pat my back pocket for my phone. I will never tire of photos of them sleeping. Every time I’m away, they crawl into the bed I share with Mr. Beautiful and sleep like a pack of cuddly teddy bears.

Click.

Shit! My phone isn’t muted.
I wait, frozen, hoping I haven’t woken anyone. Luckily, no one stirs.

I head back into the open living room and kitchen in the apartment Dan and I have lived in since we married seven years ago. I glance around at all the stuff we’ve collected over these years as I carefully move across the space. The framed photographs displayed on the bookshelf against one wall catch my eyes as I pass by.

I first notice the one from when Dan and I went camping on our first anniversary—another of Dan’s surprises. He’d been eager to try camping in a tent, and I found it surprisingly fun and romantic—sitting under the stars and moon and roasting marshmallows over a fire Dan made impressively well. It was secluded and relaxing—that is, until a crazy thunderstorm blew through, which tossed some of our things around . . . and freaked me out. Dan did his best to reassure me that it was “no big deal,” but—needless to say, we haven’t been camping since. 

My eyes shift to the photo from one of the first awards ceremonies we’d attended as husband and wife. It was thrilling to be out in the open as a married couple—no hiding anymore, no more questions as to our status. God, Dan looked so fine. Hell, he always looks fine. How wide our smiles were! How carefree we were, too! I place the frame back on the shelf, next to several awards, like the Academy Award nomination certificate and Golden Globe Dan won for Sushman’s movie. How rewarding it was for Dan, and I was filled to the brim with pride for him. It was in such contrast to the hiding and the worry leading up to that movie’s release. In fact, looking back, it’s almost funny I ever doubted the strength of our relationship. It just keeps getting better, and I’m so blessed for it.

Speaking of blessings, I pick up the photo of Dan and our beautiful son, Matthew, newly born to this world. Matt’s sweet face was just so tiny! And Dan, with tears in his eyes like the proud new father he’d just become, holds him so gingerly, as if Matt might just break apart. Of course at nine pounds, thirteen ounces he was a hefty little guy. I was convinced my body would never be the same after he fought his way out—still makes my eyes water.

I place the photo of Matt and Dan down and pick up what just might be my favorite family photo of the four of us. It was the day our gorgeous Mae made her debut, with a head full of red hair that somehow skipped generations. I’m in the hospital bed cradling Mae, and Dan’s seated on the edge of the bed, holding a wiggly Matt, who clearly wants to be on the ground. The photo reminds me how complete we are, and once again, my heart is overwhelmed—the love I have for these three people is deeper than I ever thought possible, even more so when I’ve been away for a week.

I move on to the next photo—the one with Matt and Mae sitting together at Mae’s third birthday party nearly six months ago. Mae’s face is covered in the cake and ice cream they’re both eating as they sit on my dad’s and mom’s laps. My parents are beaming. Gosh, how far my mother and I have come. In an odd way, I understand her parental insanity now. It’s like the moment I had kids I became crazy in love—a bottomless pit kind of crazy. I’d do anything for them! Matt and Mae are like living, breathing pieces of my heart, walking around outside of me . . . and destroying the apartment at the same time.

I’m careful to step over some stray blocks on the floor near the sofa and make my way to the kitchen.
What a pile of dishes!
It’s funny how being away from the chaos makes it somehow okay to walk in on a disaster and clean it up. Normally, I’m exhausted after a late flight, but oddly enough, I’m wide-awake tonight.

I roll up my sleeves and turn on the kitchen faucet to rinse the dishes, while my mind rolls back to when Dan and I first moved in here . . . and how Camille and Bridget liked to stay over now and again. And again and again. Especially Bridget, who knew she was cock-blocking Dan’s horny young self. It still makes me giggle.

Oh man. What did they eat? Ugh. It smells terrible here at the sink.
I turn on warmer water and squirt a little dish soap into the sink, hoping to cancel out the smell. I jump back as two hands slip around my waist and a chin rests on my shoulder. Goosebumps scatter themselves across my arms and neck.

“What are you doing? You should be in bed with us,” Dan says in his magically delicious English accent. “House rules, remember?”

“Well, house rule number two hundred forty-seven, you know, the one where someone’s got to clean up the tsunami of a mess you guys made, supersedes the sleeping one. By the way, what the heck did you eat? It smells awful here.”

He chuckles in my ear and begins nibbling on it. “Chinese.”

“Of course. Did Mae try anything other than the vegetable lo mein?”

“Why try new things when the old things are quite perfect and delectable?” He continues kissing my neck. “I missed you. I counted the days . . . actually, Matt counted the days on the Thomas calendar that your mum gave him.”

“He did?” I turn around to face Dan whose shirtless torso is the ignition switch to my engine. I spread my hands across his warm, firm chest, up his rounded shoulders and clasp them behind his neck, pulling him close to kiss him.
Soap . . . shaving cream . . .
“Like father, like son,” I say, pulling back a smidge.

His green eyes build with intensity as he gazes at me. “Yes, but then Mae wanted to cross the days, too, and there was a fight and I got covered with red marker while trying to break it up. See?” He pauses to show me the heel of his hand that has a faint pink glow. “That Mae is so feisty—just like her mum.”

I laugh. “Wait, what’s that on your nails?” I turn his hand over to see his nails are painted red, pink, and orange.

“Nail polish. Mae wanted to play beauty parlor.”

My heart swells. “Aww, how sweet. It looks good on you.”

He pretends to look disappointed. “I really wanted the purple one you have, but Mae said that was your “special” one and wanted to save it for when you’re victim, I mean, playing with her.” He snorts with laughter then realizing he’s being too loud, covers his mouth. “How’d it go in L.A.? Everything good with the house?” he asks, whispering.

“The house is just fine, and everything went really well. It was incredible to play with a full orchestra. Always is, you know?”

“I told you you’d be glad you took up the violin again.” He winks at me.

“You’re so smart.” I kiss his nose.

“I know,” he says smugly. He presses me against the counter, and I can feel his body, ready and waiting. “I missed you—a lot.” He’s got that devilish grin going.

“I can tell.”

“You should really do something about it.”

“I suppose I could help.” My mouth is on his, hungry and hard. The moment is urgent—we both have needs—but here in the kitchen, the kids can walk in at any second, so pants are slipped down to a minimum, and I’m up on the counter in a millisecond. It’s a fast and furious few minutes while we reconnect as passionately and quietly as possible.

We’re still breathing heavily when I hop down and we reconfigure our clothing. “That’ll tide me over for a couple of hours,” Dan says, laughing a little too loudly again.

I laugh, too, but shush him all the same. “You’ll wake them.”

“Don’t wake the monsters that lurk amongst us,” he teases in a pretend horror-movie voice.

“Exactly.”

I kiss him again, and we stand there, making out like teens when, slam! “Mommy!” Little arms hug my legs hard.

“Mae! Hi baby!” Dan and I shift apart, and I pick her up, her shoulder-length curls bouncing. “How are you, sweetie? Mommy missed you!” Her chubby arms squeeze my neck.

She pulls back to look at me. “Daddy wouldn’t let me have the marker.
I
wanted to cross off the days.”

“Well, I’m home now. No need to count down anymore.”

“That’s not true, Mommy. We have Auntie Bridget and Uncle Shane’s wedding to go to. When are we going? I want to mark the days for that.”

“We leave in two days, and I don’t think you’ll have time to mark the calendar because it’ll take you and your brother that long to clean this house! You made such a mess!” I rub my nose against hers.

“It wasn’t just us—it was daddy, too!” She leans into my ear and starts to whisper, which isn’t really a whisper at all. “Daddy gave us root beer floats. He told me not to tell you.”

“You little snitch!” Dan starts tickling her under her arms. She tries to wiggle away, giggling.

“And he gave us Lucky Charms, too. I love Lucky Charms, Mommy! And he let me go naked. Just my undies, like him and Mattie.”

“Chinese, Lucky Charms, root beer floats, nakedness . . . when the cat’s away . . .” I say, looking at Dan with a smirk.

“You little rat!” he says to Mae, ignoring me, and doing his best to tickle her while I’m struggling just to keep her from falling out of my arms.

We’re all laughing and snorting when Matt, with hair poking up in all directions, comes out from the bedroom, wiping his eyes. “What are you doing up?” he asks before he sees me. His face lights up with a brilliant smile that mirrors his dad’s and runs over. I put Mae down quickly so I can scoop up my beautiful, brown-haired boy.

“My little buddy! Oh, I missed you.” I snatch him up quickly and whirl him around. He’s got his arms locked behind my neck, hugging me tight.

“I love you, Mommy.”

“I love you, too, baby. I missed you so much!”

He pulls back to look at me. “Mae wasn’t being nice to me. She colored all over my Thomas calendar that Grandma Rita gave me!”

“I know. I heard. That wasn’t very nice, huh?”

He shakes his head.

“He tried coloring on my dolly!” Mae says, pulling on my leg.

Dan and I exchange a look. “I’m so glad I came home,” I say, crossing my eyes and laughing.

“Daddy, can I have some water?” Matt asks.

“Sure, bud.” Dan reaches for a glass and starts to fill it while I put Matt down. Mae’s holding her arms up for me to pick her up again, which I do.

“Mommy, can I wear my sparkle dress today? The one for Auntie Bridget’s wedding.” She’s batting her eyes at me, and while it works on Dan, the softie, it doesn’t work on me.

“Not today. We have to save that for the wedding.”

“Are you going to wear
your
sparkle dress to her wedding?”

“Yes, sweetie. Auntie Camille and I are in her wedding party, which means Auntie Bridget got to choose our dresses—like yours, since you’re the flower girl. Do you like your dress?”

“Yes! Auntie Bridget and I love clothes. She says we’re twins. I want to go shopping with her when we get to London. Can I go shopping with her? I can use my kitty purse.”

I smile at her cuteness. “She’ll be busy with the wedding stuff. Maybe next time.”

Mae pouts a moment then brightens. “Auntie Camille and Uncle Colin will be there, too, so that means Jack is coming, right? Jack is so handsome.” Her sweet cheeks blush.

Dan and I laugh while Matt rolls his eyes. “Yes, they’re bringing Jack. He’s only four so he’s too young to be home alone. And you can’t chase him this time, okay? He needs space, too.”

“But he smells so nice.”

“She’s going to be such trouble,” Dan whispers to me. I nod in agreement.

“Daddy says Grandpa Brian and I will dance together. I can’t wait. I like how he twirls me.”

“I taught Grandpa how to dance,” Dan says with a wry smile.

“You did?” Mae’s eyes are wide. “I want to dance with you, too, daddy.”

“You bet we will.”

Matt and Mae yawn at the same time.

“All right, everyone. It’s still too early to be awake. Back to bed with you both,” Dan says as I put Mae back on ground and he scoots them toward their rooms.

“I want to sleep with Mommy!” Mae says, clamping around one of my legs.

“Me, too!” says Mattie, wrapping his arms around my other leg.