Epilogue: Because You Loved Me

~“You were my strength when I was weak,”~

~You were my voice when I couldn’t speak,”~

~You were my eyes when I couldn’t see,”~

~You saw the best there was in me,”~

~Lifted me up when I couldn’t reach,”~

~You gave me faith ’coz you believed,”~

~I’m everything I am,”~

~Because you loved me…”~

~– Celine Dion~

***

^TEN YEARS LATER^

I found myself staring up at a massive billboard featuring Santana Martino, dressed in a provocative outfit and striking a professional pose. She’d climbed her way up to being one of the top ten supermodels in the world over the past five years. As her friend, I couldn’t be prouder.

But the billboard wasn’t why I was standing in front of this building. I was here for a different reason. I was about to launch the final book in my dystopian series, The Undead Watchers. The series had been a global success, garnering as much hype as The Hunger Games and other dystopian novels. It had made me a lot of money, and I was pretty pleased about that.

Now, I was about to release the last installment. I was excited.

“Are you ready for it?”

I turned to see Oliver and Laura, who had just arrived. Oliver was holding their ten-year-old son Jayden, while Laura cradled their three-year-old daughter Julie.

Oliver and Laura had finally tied the knot four years ago, which surprised no one. Now they were one big happy family. I was genuinely happy for them.

“I’m not sure,” I admitted. “I’m kind of nervous.”

“You’ll be fine,” my best friend reassured me, smiling. “Everyone loved your previous books. They’ll adore this one.”

Grinning, I said, “They did, didn’t they?”

“The fame has made you very modest, Ronnie,” Oliver said, “now stop procrastinating and let’s go in to get you ready for the press.”

“Daddy,” Jayden said, his silvery-green eyes hopeful, “is there going to be a cake?”

Oliver chuckled. “I’m not sure, son. Let’s go see for ourselves.”

I followed the happy family inside the building and to the room where I would rest until it all started.

My literary agent, Susanne, was waiting for me there.

“There you are!” she said and started fussing all over me.

Apparently, my mid-back-long hair was too disheveled for her taste, and the new red highlights I added to its inky-black color were too rebellious for a thirty-year-old, she’d said.

Then she started fussing over the makeup choice and redid all of it again. By the time she finished with me, I felt like I’d been through an unpleasant salon experience.

“We’re going to the hall now,” Laura said after she made sure I was good to go. “Besides, Jayden really wants a cake.”

“Go,” I said, smiling at her. “I’m fine.”

She gave me a hug.

“You sure?” she asked, and I knew that tone of hers.

I sighed. Did she really think that after all these years I was still upset? “I’m sure.”

“Okay then,” she said, and she, along with Oliver, who had a crying Julie in his hands, and excited, nagging Jayden, went to find a cake for the young boy.

I smiled as I watched them going on their way, and Susanne caught it.

“They’re good people,” she said fondly. She really liked Laura and Oliver.

“Yeah, they are,” I said, sighing again. “They’re my family, after all.”

Susanne glanced at me.

“Did your parents get the invitation?” she asked, a little tentatively.

Why did everyone feel like walking on eggshells with me today?

“They did,” I retorted and shrugged. “Stephen sent me back a reply that he and my mother wouldn’t be able to come because they were going to some event in my sister’s company.”

My sister, Andy, had recently started her own line of designing lingerie. My mom and Stephen felt like they needed to be there to support her more than me, which was understandable.

Because after all these years, while I managed to make peace with them, we were still very distant.

“Is your sister still dating that CEO?” Susanne asked, frowning.

~That CEO~ referred to Andy’s boyfriend of two years.

In fact, it was Wynntec & Co’s CEO: Jax Cole.

Of all men in the world.

“Yes,” I said, and in my mind added ~unfortunately~.

Because Andy didn’t know the true personality of her boyfriend, and when I tried to enlighten her, she called me a jealous whore.

So yeah, I didn’t meddle in her love life anymore, and if Jax was happy with dating my sister, who was I to judge? I threatened him, though, that if he hurt her like he did me, I would kill him.

He didn’t take me seriously, but I was. Because even if Andy and I had a bad relationship, she was still my sister and I still cared for her.

Susanne checked the hour and blanched.

“Oh dear,” she said, “we’re late!”

She grasped my wrist and started dragging me over the conference hall.

The moment I stepped in, the cameras and reporters were on me. Susanne and the bodyguards pushed through them, and I made it to the stage unharmed.

Susanne whispered some final words into my ear before I was entrusted with a mic and expected to talk about the new, and last, installment of my popular series.

As I was starting to talk about the new plot twists that the readers had ahead of them, I suddenly spotted my friends in the audience, and it wasn’t just Oliver and Laura.

Santana was there, radiant and stunning, and I felt a rush of warmth. She wasn’t meant to be here today; she’d mentioned some photoshoots, but here she was.

Beside her was Kyle, who also wasn’t expected, but it seemed he’d skipped out on Fraying God’s European tour to be here for me.

Amy and Nick were there too, having made the trip from Chicago, where they were currently living.

And then there were Warren, Ransom, and little George, their adopted son from Africa who was now six and waved at me with a bright smile.

I fought back tears that threatened to spill over, overwhelmed by the happiness that they’d all come to support me on this significant day.

Their presence gave me the strength to continue speaking, and when I finished and the reporters began their barrage of questions, I answered with the confidence and resilience my friends had instilled in me.

Once it was all over, I brushed off Susanne’s calls for me and rushed to embrace my friends.

“I can’t believe you’re all here!” I exclaimed, my smile so wide it was almost unbelievable.

“Of course we are,” Santana replied with a grin. “We wouldn’t miss this for the world!”

“I love you guys so much,” I confessed, unable to hold back the tears any longer.

After I’d hugged them all, Laura revealed, “We brought them all for you. I think we deserve a thank you.”

I laughed. “Thank you, Lau.”

She grinned back at me. “You’re welcome.”

“Seriously, though,” Amy interjected, resting her hand on her baby bump. She was six months pregnant. “I can’t wait to read it. If it’s as good as your earlier books, I’m going to be very happy.”

I smirked and winked at her. “One can hope.”

Susanne finally caught up with me.

“Come on, Tanner,” she said briskly, “we still have a lot to do!”

“You’re such a party pooper, Susanne,” Kyle teased, slinging his arm around my agent, who was at least four years his senior. “Can’t you let us hang out with our friend for a little bit?”

Susanne, unable to resist Kyle’s charm, softened. “But…she still has to…”

Kyle, now a famous rocker with Fraying God and undeniably handsome, flashed my agent his signature smile—the one that made countless fans swoon worldwide.

“Come on, Susie,” he coaxed, and I watched as Susanne’s stern demeanor melted away in his arms.

I laughed, rolling my eyes at my suddenly smitten agent, and felt a surge of happiness so intense it was almost unbearable.

Once the event was over, my friends and I exited the building, debating where we should go to catch up.

Laura suggested Fiddle, for nostalgia’s sake, while Warren insisted on The Drunken Irish’s Beer Place.

I noticed a man sitting on a bench just outside the building, dressed in a long coat and a scarf, with dark jeans tucked into army boots.

He had rich, chocolate-brown hair, eyes a color I couldn’t discern from this distance, and a tall, muscular build.

While my friends continued their debate, I stopped in my tracks, trying to figure out why this man seemed so familiar.

The man looked back at me, and suddenly, it clicked.

Ignoring my friends, I walked over to him, and the closer I got, the wider my eyes became.

The man’s eyes were a unique purplish-gray.

“Frey,” I whispered, the name I’d tried so hard to forget over the past ten years.

Frey looked back at me and stood up. He seemed different, older. Since I was now thirty, he must be around thirty-eight.

Age had only enhanced his appeal; he looked more rugged, stronger, and more mature, and unlike ten years ago, he’d ditched the piercings and the mohawk.

He was still as attractive and enticing as I remembered, and when he smiled at me now, my heart still skipped a beat.

“Veronica,” he responded, his voice deeper and rougher than I remembered, but no less melodious.

“What…” I began, swallowing hard. “What are you doing here?”

Before he could answer, Oliver called out, “Are you coming, Ronnie?”

I turned to see my friends watching me and Frey with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. I glanced back at Frey and saw him watching me intently.

My heart skipped a beat again, and I quickly turned back to my friends and smiled. “Go on ahead without me. I’ll catch up with you.”

“You’d better,” Santana warned, “I didn’t haul my ass all the way here so you can ditch us.”

I laughed. “Don’t worry about that.”

They left, and I turned back to the man who’d been my everything ten years ago. He finally answered my question. “I had to see your book launch.”

A warm feeling spread through me. “You had to?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, and as if he couldn’t resist any longer, his eyes roamed over me, taking in my appearance. “You look good.”

The warmth lingered, not fading as I’d expected.

“You too,” I managed, my voice choked with unspoken emotions.

We fell silent for a few long moments, and then he took a deep breath.

“I want to catch up with you,” he said, looking at me earnestly. “If you’re open to it, I’d like us to talk.”

My heart pounding, I nodded mutely. He nodded back, then asked, “Do you want to postpone it, though? Your friends seemed eager to be with you.”

“No!” I blurted out, perhaps too quickly and loudly. When he raised an eyebrow, I blushed and swallowed.

“No,” I repeated, more calmly, “I’ll text them.”

I quickly texted Laura, explaining the situation, and then turned back to Frey. He smiled briefly. “Would you like to go somewhere, then?”

“Okay,” I replied, attempting to seem nonchalant after my momentary lapse. I wasn’t sure I was succeeding.

There was a café just around the corner. We walked there in silence.

As we stepped inside, the rain began to fall. We were seated by a window.

We ordered—my usual hot chocolate for me, black coffee for Frey—and then we sat in silence.

Awkward didn’t even begin to cover it.

“You should start,” Frey suggested, a small smile on his face.

“Um…” I stuttered, feeling strangely uncomfortable. “I don’t know where to…”

The last time I’d seen Frey was at Bernard’s, ages ago. After that, his voice was the only thing I remembered.

“Why don’t you start with what you’ve been doing these past ten years?” he suggested, a fleeting smile on his face. “I know about your career, of course.”

I blushed for no real reason and nodded.

“Well, I started writing, like you suggested,” I admitted, laughing a little. “And I made peace with the people I’d been fighting with.”

“I went to therapy for a few years until I was okay on my own…” My voice trailed off.

“That’s about it,” I finished, offering him a hesitant smile. “What about you?”

Our drinks arrived and he took a sip before answering.

“I’m still running my dojo,” he shared, “it’s doing better than ever. I left the pub and the band for good. Now I just run the dojo and live my life, trying to make things right with my family.”

Silence fell between us. It wasn’t as easy to talk as it used to be, but I could still feel a connection.

When I looked up at him and our eyes met, I felt it again, like a wave growing stronger.

Old feelings washed over me, and I remembered a question Dr. Miller had asked me during one of our sessions.

Had I only loved Frey because I was dependent on him?

The answer was clear.

It wasn’t that simple. It wasn’t just because I’d relied on him.

Now, at thirty, I didn’t rely on anyone.

I was my own person, stronger than before, earning my own money, living my own life.

And yet, when I looked at Frey now, I still felt echoes of the love I’d once had for him.

That love had been real.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking…” Frey cleared his throat. “But are you…are you married?”

I was so surprised, I nearly spilled my hot chocolate.

“No,” I replied, looking at him in surprise. “I’m not.”

“Oh,” he said, frowning.

I could tell he wanted to ask something else, so I prompted him. “What is it?”

He gave me a small smile.

“Jax mentioned it once, since you’re his girlfriend’s sister, that you had a boyfriend.”

Now it was my turn to frown. When I realized who he was talking about, I understood.

“He meant Drake,” I explained, looking down at my drink. “Drake and I were together for three years, but we broke up when we realized it wasn’t working.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, sounding sincere.

Taking a chance, I asked, “How’s Lucy?”

Frey’s expression turned serious and he looked at me with unreadable eyes.

“We were married for a year before we realized we shouldn’t have gotten married at all. She’s married to Mark Chesterfield now, a good man, and they have a daughter named Freya.”

His expression grew even more serious. “We stayed friends, though, and I’m Freya’s godfather, which I’m really happy about.”

I swallowed hard as he looked at me. My heart was flipping in my chest and my stomach was in knots at the realization that we were both single.

“Veronica,” he said, his eyes filled with determination as he took my hand. I felt a jolt at his touch.

“I know we ended things badly, and I know I hurt you. But I want to make it right. I want to make it up to you.”

I swallowed hard again.

He leaned in closer.

“The truth is, my marriage with Lucy ended because I didn’t feel the same way about her anymore. My heart belonged to you, and for the past ten years, I haven’t been able to forget you.”

His words brought tears to my eyes and I struggled to breathe.

Because I hadn’t been able to forget him either.

Because my relationship with Drake ended because I couldn’t forget him.

Because despite everything, he kept coming back to me, reminding me of what I’d lost.

“I miss you, Rons,” he said, a sad smile on his face. “I miss you so much, sometimes it hurts.”

Tears were streaming down my face now, and I whispered, “I miss you, too.”

And just like that, everything that had been between us—the feelings, the secrets, the shared thoughts—came rushing back, and I couldn’t hold back anymore.

I just couldn’t.

And neither could Frey.

I barely noticed as Frey threw some money on the table.

He grabbed my wrist and pulled me out of the café, leading me to a big black jeep and helping me inside.

He started the engine, drove quickly down the street, and stopped in front of a luxurious apartment building.

We both jumped out of the jeep and he took my hand again.

The moment he opened the door to his apartment, I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him.

He pulled me close, his strong arms wrapping around my waist as he kicked the door shut.

Frey pushed me against the wall, his lips teasing mine, sending a jolt of electricity through my body.

His tongue slipped into my mouth, seeking mine, twining with it in a dance of desire.

We both needed to be free of our clothes.

In a flurry of movement, my jacket was off, his coat was discarded, and our shirts joined the pile on the floor.

Frey’s arms encircled me again, pressing me back against the wall. His muscular body was a furnace against my smaller, curvier one.

Our lips met in a hungry kiss, each of us devouring the other.

It had been seven years since I’d last been with a man. Judging by Frey’s reaction to my touch, it had been a while for him too. Neither of us had the patience to wait any longer.

Naked, Frey guided us to the bedroom. He fell onto the bed with me beneath him, his lips tracing a path from my cheek to my jaw, then down to my neck. His kisses and nibbles sent me into a fit of moans that bordered on embarrassing.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this,” he murmured against my skin.

My fingers tangled in his hair as his mouth moved lower, teasing and tasting my breasts, my nipples.

“I’ve waited longer,” I assured him, my voice breathy. I moaned as his teeth grazed my nipple. “Frey…”

Despite my eagerness, he took his time, preparing me for what was to come.

He teased my nipples until I was ready to scream, and when I told him to hurry up, he chuckled. The rumble of his laughter against my skin sent delightful shivers through me.

Then his lips were on mine again, our kisses wild and desperate, as if we were the last two people on earth.

His large, callused hand cupped me, making me moan into his mouth.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispered against my lips as his fingers began to tease me, adding a pinch to my clit for good measure. “Burn for me.”

“I am,” I panted, squirming with the need for him to take me.

As if he’d read my mind, he removed his hand and gripped my thighs.

“I’m not holding back tonight,” he warned, nipping my lower lip to emphasize his point.

“Good,” I gasped, “I need you to fuck me now.”

“Make love,” he corrected, and when I looked at him in surprise, he smirked. “We’re going to make love, not fuck.”

Our eyes locked, and every memory, every emotion between us surged to the surface. We couldn’t wait another moment.

He probed at my entrance, leaning in so our foreheads touched, our eyes never breaking contact.

His arms wrapped around my thighs and waist, then he thrust into me.

We both groaned at the sensation. He was thick and large, stretching me in a way that was both painful and pleasurable.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pleading with my eyes for him to move.

And he did.

Each thrust was slow but deep, filled with emotion that took the pleasure to a whole new level.

As the tension in my abdomen began to build, tears of pure joy welled in my eyes.

Frey’s eyes flashed with understanding, and as I cried out in climax, he followed, thrusting one last time, so deep that the tip of his cock brushed against my womb, filling me with his warmth.

Neither of us cared.

All that mattered was that we were one, united. I had no intention of ever letting this man go again.

“I’ve always been in love with you, Veronica Tanner,” he whispered, pinning me gently beneath him, his body a comforting weight. He kissed me softly.

I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck and returned his kiss.

“I’ve always been in love with you too, Godfrey Holmes,” I admitted, smiling through my tears. “Can we stop being cheesy now?”

He chuckled and kissed me deeply, still buried inside me.

“Sure, Rons,” he agreed, holding me tighter. He pulled back to give me a playful look. “I know it’s a bit late, but Ronnie, will you go out with me?”

Laughing, I agreed, “Sure.”

“Good,” he said, grinning. “Now we’re officially a couple.”

“Good,” I echoed, grinning back. I squealed in surprise as he suddenly flipped us over, so I was on top. He hugged me close, burying his face in my neck.

“I just want to hold you right now,” he admitted, his voice raw with emotion. “Is that okay?”

Overwhelmed, I nodded.

We stayed wrapped in each other’s arms until the sun rose. And when it did, we made love again.

And again.

And again.

And I finally had my answer.

I could have a happy ending.

It just came later than I thought.

~The End~