Page 87 of Even Robots Die (Even Ever After #3)

Seven years later

T his is an extended epilogue from Léandre and Cassiopé's POV.

If you haven't read Even Vampires Bleed, I'd recommend you skip this epilogue and go directly to the last one.

Léandre

Why am I sweating like a pig?

There is no reason I should be sweating. I should be calm and collected. I should already know her answer.

We have three kids already, after all.

And a fourth on the way.

So there is really no reason why I should be stressed and sweating like a pig.

But what if she says no?

I can’t stop myself from wondering, and it’s driving me mad.

I need to breathe.

I need to stay calm.

I wipe my sweaty hands against my pants and look at Sophie, who is playing on the ground next to me .

She is our first born, and she’s barely four. She is the quiet kind that loves to draw and likes to play on her own, but today she is going to help me.

I know. I’m not playing fair, but you gotta do what you gotta do.

And I’m desperate.

Maybe it’s not a life and death matter, but every time I thought it was the right moment to ask something happened.

The first time I tried to ask Cassiopé, she had something to tell me, too, and I ended up being carried away by the fact she was pregnant.

It was for Sophie.

The second time I got down on one knee, she actually threw up on my shoes, and I didn’t get time to ask the question I had on my lips.

It was for Marius and Camille.

Twins.

And now we’re expecting a fourth baby. Like for the other three, we refused to know the gender, so no name has been picked yet, even if Cassiopé is six months along already.

At least it’s too late in the pregnancy this time for her to cover me in puke.

“Baby girl,” I say to Sophie, so she stops drawing for a second. “It’s time for the surprise. Can you go pick up mama?”

There is a big conspiracy smile on her face that is all the answer I need.

Cassiopé

I’m supposed to go on a date with my daughter this afternoon. Whatever that means .

So I’m not surprised when Sophie comes into my room and looks at me like I’m already late.

She does that often. She’s not much of a talker, but everything that she thinks is written directly on her face.

I finish putting on my mascara and get up.

I tried to make an effort with my outfit—this is a date after all—but it wasn’t the easiest with the way I’m so freaking round.

I have on a long dress—that hides that I’m not flexible enough anymore to shave my legs—with flowery patterns and flip-flops. They’re not the best looking shoes, obviously, but the hem of my dress falls just right and no one can really see what shoes I’m wearing, so it works.

Sophie holds her hand out, and I take it before following her.

When I get out of the room, I’m greeted by rows and rows of flowers creating a path to our living room.

We left Notre Dame a long time ago to buy our own house, much like the one we shared with Léandre in the south of France, but with electricity and all the amenities we missed there.

And bigger.

We hadn’t planned to have so many kids so fast, but did plan for having a lot of them, which means we currently have six rooms and enough kids to fill half of them.

Weirdly I can’t hear Marius or Camille cry and that must be a first.

That’s not the weirdest thing now, though. Because when I enter the living room, Léandre is on his knees—yes both—holding out a hand with a small box inside.

As I get closer, I can finally see the ring that is inside. It’s lovely with a big diamond in the middle and small rubies on the side that look like drops of blood.

It also looks like Léandre’s wings, in a way, and as if he knew I would think that, his wings are on display now.

“Do you want to marry Papa?” Sophie asks from her position right next to me, and I nod frantically .

I’m not sure I can talk right now. Between the flowers, Sophie and Léandre, it all feels so perfect.

Léandre gets up and wraps his arms around me.

“I love you, Firefly,” he says against my lips before kissing me. “And if you’ll have me, I’ll love you for the rest of our lives. And in the next one, too.”

“Yes,” I finally answer him when I can talk again. “Yes, I want to be your wife.”

“Youhou. I can be a flower girl.” I hear Sophie whisper, still holding my hand.

Léandre grabs and hauls her up on the side of his hip, so she releases my hand, and he slips the ring on my finger with pride.

Wrapped in his arms, I dip my hand in the right pocket of my dress—because yes, it has pockets—and retrieve what I’ve been using as a worry toy for almost four years now.

I’ve always fidgeted, but since I asked Florentine to make this little thing, I’ve gotten to fidget in my pocket for the most part.

“I guess I can finally give you this,” I tell Léandre as I fish out what I was looking for.

The ring.

When Léandre sees it, his eyes grow glassy, and I know doing this in advance was the best idea I’ve ever had.

It’s not very ornate or fancy, and in truth, it looks a lot like the one I’ve been forced to stare at for the past seven years, but I like it the way it is.

Because this one is mine.

Sophie grabs it before Léandre can and says “it’s weird. Why is there something written on top of it?”

She doesn’t know how to read yet, but she can easily recognize that what’s on top of the ring isn’t a normal pattern for a ring.

She gives the ring to Léandre, and the tears that have been threatening from crawling out of his eyes finally fall on his cheeks.

And I know why.

I know it’s because of what I got engraved on the outer part of the ring instead of the inner one.

“In this life and the next.”

Because there will be no “or” in our lives ever again...