Twelve Years Later
Jay's POV
The smell of freshly baked pancakes drifted through the Watson mansion, finding its way into every hallway, every bedroom, and, unfortunately, every excuse my children had ever invented to avoid getting out of bed.
Fortunately for me, I knew exactly how to use it against them.
"Breakfast is ready!" I called from the kitchen.
"I'm coming!" Kaitlin shouted.
A second later, I heard tiny footsteps racing down the stairs, followed by a loud thud.
I froze.
"Kaitlin?" I called.
"I'M FINE!"
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
Seven years old, and already determined to give me grey hair.
Before I could turn back to the stove, a little girl with messy hair and a dress that was most definitely not meant for breakfast came charging into the kitchen.
"Good morning, Mama!"
She threw her arms around my waist.
"Good morning, sweetheart." I kissed the top of her head. "Why are you wearing that dress?"
She looked down at herself as though she had only just noticed.
"Because I look pretty."
I pressed my lips together, fighting a smile.
"Well, I can't argue with that."
"Also, we're having a picnic today."
I blinked.
"We are?"
"Yes." She nodded firmly. "Outside. In the garden. With blankets and sandwiches and cakes and juice. And James has to carry the basket."
From somewhere behind us came a tired voice.
"Why do I have to carry everything?"
I turned.
James stood in the doorway, his dark hair still messy from sleep and his arms folded across his chest. At twelve, he was already beginning to resemble his father in ways that made my heart ache in the sweetest possible way. He had Kiefer's eyes, his stubbornness, and that particular expression that suggested the entire world was personally inconveniencing him.
Especially his little sister.
"Because you're the big brother," Kaitlin announced.
"That doesn't mean I'm your servant."
"It means you have to protect me."
"From what? A sandwich?"
"JAMES!"
I covered my mouth, but the laugh escaped anyway.
James looked at me with an expression of pure betrayal.
"Are you laughing at me?"
"No, darling."
"You are."
"A little."
He sighed dramatically and dragged a hand down his face.
Honestly, sometimes I wondered how two children who had grown up in a house filled with so much love could be so different.
James was twelve, thoughtful and protective, and determined to pretend he was far too grown-up for anything his sister suggested. Kaitlin was seven, fearless in her own little way, and convinced that the entire household existed to fulfil her latest plans.
And somehow, they were the best parts of both Kiefer and me.
"Sit down, both of you," I said, pointing towards the table. "Breakfast first. Then we'll discuss this very important picnic."
"There's nothing to discuss," Kaitlin replied, climbing into her chair. "It's already decided."
James pulled out the chair beside her.
"Your Majesty has spoken."
Kaitlin grinned. "Exactly."
I turned towards the stove, shaking my head.
My life was ridiculous.
My life was beautiful.
And I wouldn't have changed a single thing.
By the time Kiefer walked into the kitchen, breakfast was already on the table, Kaitlin had somehow managed to claim the biggest pancake, and James was arguing that she had taken it purely to annoy him.
"You could have another one," I reminded him.
"It's not about the pancake, Mum."
"Of course not."
"It's about the principle."
Kiefer appeared beside me, wrapping an arm around my waist and pressing a kiss to my temple.
"What's happening?"
"Your daughter has declared herself queen and appointed your son as her personal servant."
He glanced at Kaitlin.
She lifted her chin proudly.
"Someone has to rule this family."
Kiefer nodded solemnly. "Fair enough."
James stared at him.
"Dad."
"What?"
"You're encouraging her."
"I'm supporting the crown."
Kaitlin gasped, delighted.
"See? Daddy understands!"
Kiefer leaned down and kissed her forehead before taking the empty chair beside me.
James muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like this family is impossible.
I reached for Kiefer's hand beneath the table.
He squeezed mine.
Twelve years.
Twelve years since I had stood in front of him and promised him forever.
Twelve years since he had looked at me as though I were the only person in the world capable of making him believe that forever could be something beautiful.
And here we were.
Sharing pancakes with our children. Listening to arguments about imaginary kingdoms. Worrying about spilled juice and missing shoes and whether someone had eaten the last strawberry.
Ordinary things.
The very things I had once thought might never belong to us.
I glanced at Kiefer.
He was watching James attempt to steal a piece of bacon from Kaitlin's plate while she defended it with the determination of a soldier protecting a castle.
He caught me looking.
His expression softened.
What? he mouthed.
I shook my head.
Nothing.
But it wasn't nothing.
It was everything.
Getting four people organised for a picnic should not have been difficult.
Somehow, in the Watson household, it became an entire military operation.
Kaitlin insisted on choosing the blanket.
James was ordered to pack the basket.
Kiefer was responsible for the drinks.
And I was apparently responsible for making sure the royal family had enough food to survive an afternoon in the garden.
"Mama, we need more strawberries."
"We have strawberries."
"More."
"Kaitlin, we're going to the garden, not crossing a desert."
She considered that.
"Fine. But bring the cakes."
I added the cakes.
A few minutes later, James appeared in the doorway carrying a basket that looked almost as large as his torso.
"Why is this so heavy?"
"Because you packed half the kitchen," I replied.
Kaitlin peeked into the basket.
"Did you bring the cakes?"
"Yes."
"The strawberries?"
"Yes."
"The sandwiches?"
"Yes."
She beamed.
"Perfect. You're my favourite brother."
"I'm your only brother."
"Exactly."
James stared at her.
I had to turn away before they noticed me laughing again.
Kiefer came up behind me, slipping his arms around my waist.
"You know," he murmured, "we could have hired someone to organise all of this."
"And miss this?" I asked, nodding towards our children.
James was now trying to convince Kaitlin that carrying the basket counted as his entire contribution to the picnic.
Kaitlin disagreed.
Naturally.
Kiefer watched them for a moment before resting his chin on my shoulder.
"No," he admitted softly. "I wouldn't want to miss it either."
I leaned back against him.
His arms tightened around me.
There had been a time when I couldn't imagine a future with him. Not because I didn't want one, but because the world had taught both of us that happiness was something that could be taken away.
Kiefer had spent so much of his life protecting the people he loved that he'd forgotten he was allowed to be loved, too.
I had seen the boy beneath his walls.
And he had given me a home where I never had to be afraid of losing myself.
Now, that home was standing in front of us, arguing over a picnic basket.
"Come on!" Kaitlin called. "The royal family is leaving!"
James lifted the basket.
"If I drop this on your foot, don't blame me."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Try me."
"Children," Kiefer called.
Both of them immediately looked towards him.
"Be nice to each other."
"We are!" Kaitlin insisted.
James gave his father a look.
Kiefer raised an eyebrow.
James sighed. "Fine."
I laughed and took Kiefer's hand.
"Come on, Your Majesty," I whispered.
He kissed my cheek.
"After you, my queen."
The garden looked like something out of a dream.
Sunlight spilled across the grass, filtering through the trees and turning the leaves golden at the edges. The flowers were in bloom, the air was warm, and a gentle breeze carried the scent of roses across the lawn.
Kaitlin chose a spot beneath the biggest tree.
"No, a little more to the left," she instructed James.
He shifted the basket.
"Here?"
"No."
He moved it again.
"Here?"
"No."
James stared at the sky as if begging it to take him.
"Kaitlin, it's a basket."
"And this is a very important picnic."
"Right. Sorry. I forgot we're hosting the king."
She placed her hands on her hips.
"You're ruining the atmosphere."
Kiefer and I exchanged a look.
Then we both burst out laughing.
Eventually, the blanket was spread, the food arranged, and Kaitlin declared the picnic officially open.
We settled together beneath the tree.
James sat beside his sister, pretending not to notice when she leaned against his arm. He complained when she stole a strawberry from his plate, but when she reached for another and nearly tipped the bowl, he caught it before it fell.
"Careful," he muttered.
"Thank you, James!"
"I wasn't saving the strawberries for you."
"Of course not."
He rolled his eyes.
But he nudged the bowl closer to her anyway.
I looked at Kiefer.
He was watching them, a quiet smile on his face.
"What?" I whispered.
He shook his head.
"Nothing."
I smiled.
"Liar."
His gaze moved to me.
"I just never thought I'd have this."
My heart squeezed.
He didn't need to explain what he meant.
I knew.
The laughter. The sunshine. The children. The peaceful afternoon that didn't ask him to fight for anything or prove that he was strong enough to survive another day.
A family.
A life.
A future.
I reached for his hand, threading my fingers through his.
"You have it," I whispered.
He looked at me.
"Because of you."
"No," I said gently. "Because we chose it. Together."
His thumb brushed across my knuckles.
Then he leaned forward and kissed my forehead.
"I love you."
I smiled against his shoulder.
"I love you, too."
"Ew!"
We turned.
Kaitlin was staring at us with a disgusted expression.
"Can you please stop kissing? We're trying to have a picnic."
James snorted.
"You were literally hugging my arm five minutes ago."
"That's different!"
"How?"
"Because I'm cute."
James looked at me.
"Can we return her?"
"No," I said, laughing. "Absolutely not."
Kaitlin stuck her tongue out at him.
James reached over and ruffled her hair.
She squealed and swatted his hand away, and suddenly they were both laughing, rolling across the blanket while Kiefer tried to rescue the sandwiches from their feet.
I sat back and watched them.
My family.
My whole heart, scattered across a picnic blanket beneath an old tree.
I thought about the girl I had once been, the one who couldn't imagine a life this gentle. The one who had wondered whether love was something people like us were ever allowed to keep.
I wished I could reach back through time and tell her what I knew now.
That life could be cruel, but it could also be kind.
That the person who seemed impossible to reach might one day become the person who held your hand through everything.
That one day, you could wake up in a home filled with laughter and hear your children arguing over strawberries.
That sometimes, the happiest endings didn't arrive with grand declarations or a kingdom at your feet.
Sometimes, they arrived quietly.
In a kitchen filled with the smell of pancakes.
In a little girl who believed she was royalty.
In a boy who pretended his sister annoyed him but always made sure she was safe.
In a man who had once been afraid to live and now looked at his family as though they were the reason the world kept turning.
Kiefer slipped his arm around my shoulders.
I rested my head against him.
"Happy?" he murmured.
I looked at our children.
James was letting Kaitlin braid a tiny section of his hair, although he was pretending he had no idea what she was doing. She was concentrating so intensely that her tongue poked out between her lips.
The sight made me smile.
"More than I ever imagined."
Kiefer kissed the top of my head.
"Good."
I turned towards him.
His eyes met mine, and for a moment, I saw every version of the man I had ever loved: the guarded boy, the wounded young man, the husband who had promised me forever, and the father who now carried our daughter on his shoulders whenever she asked.
I loved every single one.
I always would.
"Hey, Dad!" James called. "Kaitlin says she's going to be queen when she grows up."
Kiefer nodded thoughtfully.
"Sounds reasonable."
"And I'm apparently her royal protector."
"Also reasonable."
James groaned.
"Why does everyone support her?"
"Because," Kaitlin announced, climbing into Kiefer's lap, "I'm the favourite."
"Absolutely not," James replied.
"Absolutely yes."
I laughed so hard that my eyes watered.
Kiefer pulled both children closer, and for a moment, the four of us were tangled together in a mess of arms, laughter, and protests.
And I realised something.
I had once believed that forever was a promise people made because they wanted to believe in something beautiful.
Now, I knew better.
Forever was this.
The little moments.
The ridiculous arguments.
The love that lived in every ordinary day.
It was James pretending he didn't adore his sister.
It was Kaitlin believing she could rule the world.
It was Kiefer's hand finding mine without him even looking.
It was the family we had built from everything we had survived.
Twelve years ago, I had promised Kiefer my forever.
And he had given me his.
We had kept that promise in a thousand different ways since then, and we would keep it in a thousand more.
I looked at my husband, then at our children, and smiled.
This was my life.
This was my home.
And if I could choose it all over again, knowing every heartbreak, every difficult day, every moment that had brought us here, I would still choose him.
Every time.
For the rest of my life.
And every lifetime after that.
The end.