I held Leif, Erik holding Ulf as we gazed at each other, happiness in our every line.
"You're stuck with us now." He told me, pulling me close to press a kiss to my forehead.
"Guess you better get used to a clean house then."
"Queenie, nothing turns me on more than watching you clean my pipes."
"Overshare!" Gunnar yelled, making a face. "Jesus brother!"
We laughed as his mother took the picture. It was the image I'd use on Instagram to announce our engagement. The image that the papers would publish and the fans would gush over.
And it was the image that would hang in our bedroom beside our wedding photo.
OceanofPDF.com
Epilogue Two
Erik
Three years later
"Want Momma!" Leif yelled, stamping his little foot in protest.
"Buddy, I've already told you, Momma's on an airplane, remember?"
"Swoosh!" Ulf said from beside me, his arms shooting straight out as he swayed from side to side.
"Got it in one, Bud," I praised. I lifted the shirt once more, prepared to bargain with my stubborn son.
"Come on, Leif. If you put your shirt on, I'll let you have some chocolate milk with breakfast. Just don't tell your mom, deal?"
He considered the deal, eyeing the shirt with suspicion. "Ulf too?"
"Sure," I promised, desperate to seal the deal.
"O-tay," he thrust his arms up in the air, waiting for me to slip it on.
I sighed in relief, wrestling the shirt into place. Finally dressed, we then shared breakfast—the naughty chocolate milk treat, greedily devoured – then grabbed our prepacked bags to head to Grandma's.
"Okay boys," I yelled shoving them through the door at my mom. "Have fun!"
"Erik, you don't want to come in for a –"
"No time!" I yelled, frantic. "Gotta go, love you Ma!"
I heard my dad laughing from inside as Ma stood in the doorway, a frown in place as she watched me practically sprint for my car.
Call me a terrible parent, but I'd lied to my kids. And I felt zero shame.
Momma wasn't still on an airplane. Momma's plane had already landed and she was in a cab on her way home right now.
And she had been sexting Daddy for over three days. The woman was about to be punished.
I, barely, managed to stay within the speed limit as I drove home, managing to pull into the driveway just as the cab pulled up to the curb.
I parked, throwing open the door and slamming it shut, clicking the lock as I headed for my woman.
She stepped from the cab, her handbag over one shoulder, looking daisy fresh and entirely fuckable in a beautiful summer dress that hugged every curve.
