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TOBIAS
One Year Later
It's been one hell of a year, but it's been the most satisfying one of my entire life.
It's just past eight a.m., and when I get out of the shower, the room is quiet except for the soft snores of my newborn son, Theo. He's in the bassinet next to our bed, fat fists closed and arms above his head as he sleeps the peaceful sleep of the young. At just one-month-old, he's perfect—a mix of his mother and I with dark hair and emerald eyes—and is, by all accounts, a wonderfully well-behaved baby.
If he's here and sleeping, that means that my beautiful wife must be up to something, and I have a good idea what.
Down the hallway, I find a harried man with his arms crossed, leaning on the wall next to the nursery doorway. "She kick you out?"
Stephen, the interior designer I hired to satisfy Teagan's every whim when it came to overhauling the house, huffs. "She insists on painting it herself. I don't get it."
I pat him on the shoulder. "Don't worry. You'll still get paid. Take the day off."
Surprised, Stephen thanks me and departs. I smirk, watching him go and thinking about how much I’ve changed over the past twelve months. Tobias from a year ago would have never given an employee a paid free day.
But what can I say? I'm a happy man.
Teagan is in the nursery, wearing a white tank top and paint-stained overalls. There's a smear of robin egg blue on her nose, and I think she's the most adorable thing I've ever seen. "I thought I'd find you here. We have people to do this for us, you know."
"I know..." She sighs, dragging her forearms over her forehead. "But this is our first baby, Tobias. I want to decorate his nursery ourselves. I want it to be personal and know that I did this for him, you know?"
"Sure," I say, coming up behind her and kissing her neck. She leans back into me, and the smell of her shampoo is sweet and fresh. "I'll help."
She rolls her eyes. "That's okay. You're a busy man, Mr. Security CEO. Why don't you just go back to the office and I'll finish up."
"Is that so, Mrs. CEO? Or do you mean you'll leave the rest of this to the professional painters you kicked out of the house?"
She pouts, and I nip at her lower lip.
"That's better. Now, tell me what you have in mind, doll."
A few hours later, we've got the walls painted and the furniture assembled, and Teagan has decided that a nature theme is the only acceptable thing for our son's nursery. I'll give her this much—the room is looking great.
She retrieves the tiny king of the castle and places him in the newly assembled crib, where he kicks and coos as he stares up at his mother.
"I still can't believe he's here," she says, running a loving hand over his little belly.
I stand next to her and reach out to touch him too. He's so small and so perfect. When his little fingers wrap around my index finger, I think my heart might explode.
"He's amazing," I whisper. "I love him so much."
Teagan looks up at me, and I lean down to kiss her.
"I love you," she murmurs, and then she smiles. "Both of you. Thank you for making me so happy, Tobias."
"No, doll. Thank you."
Teagan nestles into my side, and I close my eyes, reveling in the moment for just a second. I might have lived a dark life before, but now, everything is as it should be. The blood, sweat, and tears were worth it. And I'd do it all over again, just to have this.
EXTENDED EPILOGUE
TEAGAN
Ten Years Later
The beach house rests right on the sand, just feet from the ocean, and the sound of it is almost hypnotic.
