Our Fault (Culpable Book 3)
Our Fault: Epilogue

EIGHT YEARS LATER

I closed the door to the garage and smiled.

“Daddy’s not going to believe it, Julie,” I told my two-year-old daughter as we walked around the yard to enter our amazing home.

It hadn’t been long since we’d moved: that day marked two years exactly. When we found out we were going to be parents again, we realized our house in the city was too small, and we decided it was time for a bigger one near the beach so the kids could enjoy the sea and all it offered.

Nick had been the one to really push for it. He’d given me the little house near downtown to allow me to keep studying after I had Andrew. Then, for one reason or another, we found ourselves not wanting to leave until it was inevitable. Nick was overjoyed to be by the beach again, and I was happy for him. Andrew was now an ace surfer: at ten, he was already competing and had earned countless trophies. So we didn’t have to sell him on the move either.

Andrew was a carbon copy of Nick. There was no denying they were father and son, but I’d known it would be that way as soon as he was born. Since I couldn’t spot a single trait of mine in him, I was happy to have a little girl who was just like me: a blond daughter with a freckly face so cute, you wanted to kiss her all over. The only thing she’d inherited from Nick were her eyes, the same sky blue as those of Andrew.

Julie hadn’t come as a surprise: actually, we’d been trying for another baby for six years. I had been right to think my first pregnancy was a miracle. Looking back, I think God gave us Andy because it was the only way to be sure we’d get back together.

We were overjoyed when we found out she was a girl. Nicholas was mad about her. She was just like her mother, though: she couldn’t care less about swimming in the ocean, let alone getting on a board and riding waves. She was happy in my arms, and I loved giving her all my time.

One day Andy came in soaking wet, with sand all over his feet.

“Can we eat the cake yet?” he asked, sitting at the table and pinching his sister’s cheeks. Julie screamed like a banshee, and Andrew laughed with that same mischievous expression his father had dozens of times a day, especially when we were alone.

“When Daddy gets here,” I said.

Nick was turning thirty-five that day. I still couldn’t believe how quickly time had passed. It seemed like just yesterday that we were walking together on the beach in Mykonos completely absorbed in each other, kissing all night and falling asleep and kissing all morning as soon as we awoke. I had turned thirty in June. It was hard for me to believe that, too.

Nick had asked me not to go all out for his birthday. He wanted a relaxing night with the family, and I respected that wish…more or less.

I smiled as I put the last bit of icing on the cake I had baked for him. The kids had gone to the living room to watch cartoons, but from Julie’s shouting, I assumed they were fighting about something.

I jumped when a pair of hands gripped me around the waist and a muscular body pressed into my back.

“Did you cook me something, Freckles?” Nick whispered, biting my earlobe sensually.

“Don’t get used to it,” I said, setting the spatula down on the table to greet him as he deserved. “Happy birthday.” I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pulled him in for a kiss on the lips.

Nick smiled. “No surprise party?” he asked, rubbing my lower back tenderly but hungrily.

I shook my head. “Just us,” I replied. He smiled with satisfaction and gave me a squeeze.

A small person came in to interrupt us, distracting us from our flirting.

“Daddy!” Julia said, reaching up for him to pick her up. Nick reluctantly pulled away from me and obeyed his other favorite girl.

Unlike Andy, who’d always loved for Nicholas to throw him in the air and spin him around, Julia hated it. She was fussy in that way. Nick kissed her blond hair and rested her on his hip, opening the fridge and taking out a bottle of wine. In the background I could hear video games on the TV.

“How is the most beautiful little girl in the world?” Nick asked as he gave her a tickle. She laughed, showing her only two teeth and kicking her legs back and forth so Nick would put her down. She took off to find her brother.

Nick came back for another kiss.

“This is going to be a long night…” he said sensually.

I felt a tingle of anticipation in my stomach and hurried to finish the cake.

We had a pleasant night together as a family, with dinner and the obligatory “Happy Birthday” song. Julie applauded like crazy; it was one of the only songs she could make it through without messing up. Andrew, in the meantime, tore through the cake he’d been staring at for the whole meal.

When we put the kids to bed, I grabbed Nick’s hand and took him back downstairs.

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” I said, nervous, unable to stop myself from smiling like an idiot.

He looked at me with suspicion. “What have you done, Freckles? You don’t have clowns ready to pop out from behind the sofa or anything like that, do you?”

I rolled my eyes. I’d only done that once!

“Come on…you’ll love it,” I said, opening the front door and walking to the garage. Nick had his hands in his pockets, watching me, curious and amused.

“Ready?” I asked, biting my lip.

“Am I?!” he answered.

I ignored him and hit the button on the garage door opener. When the door was all the way retracted, Nicholas gawked at what he saw.

“Happy birthday!” I shouted.

“Fuck…” was all he could say at first. “Are you crazy?” he asked, stepping forward.

“I always told you I owed you a Ferrari. And I don’t forget my promises.”

He couldn’t believe it. When he laughed, my chest swelled with pride. He turned around, picked me up, and spun me in circles.

“I can’t believe it,” he said, then looked at me with a furrowed brow.

When he set me down, I knew the storm was coming.

“You didn’t…” he started to say as I stepped back. “Tell me you didn’t spend the money I put in your account on a present for me.”

I shrugged. “I told you I didn’t want it.”

“You’re my wife!”

“And you’re my husband!” I said, grinning.

“I don’t know whether to kill you or kiss you all over… Tell me, smarty-pants, what do you think I should do?”

I smiled. “I think we should go racing.”

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