Page 100 of The Havenport Collection

Epilogue

ASTRID

Eight Years Later

I snuggled deeper into the pillow, clinging to the warm comfort of my bed for a few more minutes. Alas, it was not to be. I felt hot breath on my face, and my eyes shot open.

“Mama,” Oliver crooned. His face was inches from mine, and his toddler morning breath seeped into my pores.

I closed my eyes again, trying to remember the last time I had a full night’s sleep.

Probably before I had kids. No, wait, before I was pregnant.

I can’t really remember that far back, but I bet it was amazing.

We ended up not needing those frozen eggs.

I got pregnant during our honeymoon to Iceland. I swear it was those hot springs.

“Mama,” he whispered again. I looked up at his dark eyelashes and chubby cheeks and smiled. He looked so beautiful and sweet. “Mama, I pooped,” he whispered, pointing to his dinosaur pajamas. I lifted my head and was hit with the telltale smell of a diaper explosion.

“Mama will change you.” I sat up and scooped him into my arms as I heard footsteps thundering down the hall. The door burst open, and Amelia jumped on the bed with Declan in hot pursuit. He roared like a dinosaur and pretended to take a bite of her leg.

“Daddy, you are supposed to be a Pachycephalosaurus—they are herbivores!” she explained through her giggle fit.

Declan reared up and scrunched his arms in close to his chest. “Nope. I am a daddy T. rex, and I am hungry for breakfast.”

Amelia screamed and burrowed under the duvet to hide. Declan looked at me. “Morning, gorgeous,” he said, dropping a kiss to my head. “Oh, no.” He pinched his nose. “Here,” he said, reaching out and taking our boy out of my arms. “This seems like a Daddy job.”

I beamed at him. “My hero.”

He winked. “You can thank me later.”

I laughed and sank back into the pillow for a glorious moment before a tiny blonde head popped up. “Mom, can we have chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast?”

Life with Declan was many things, but it was not boring. We had spent the last seven years in a whirlwind of family, careers, travel, and quiet nights by the fire with Ginger.

We ended up adding on to the house up on the bluff.

It now housed Declan and me, our two kids, Ginger and our puppy, Elsa, plus two hamsters and three fish.

It was a far cry from the pristine bachelor pad I had encountered so many years ago.

Now there were Legos and glitter headbands on every available surface and a mountain of laundry that never seemed to shrink. We were busy and tired and happy.

My career had evolved considerably. After the incident with Max Shapiro, I kept working to make sure justice would be served.

I found several other women who had been victimized by him and convinced them to come forward.

We ended up bringing a lawsuit against Burns & Glenn.

They settled with us for a significant sum of money, and as a condition of my settlement, I forced them to implement several remedial measures to ensure female associates were given equal opportunities and sexual harassment was not tolerated.

I donated my portion of the settlement to the Havenport Crisis Center to help set up a pro bono legal clinic.

I spent several years working and recruiting other lawyers, and we built a significant operation that was able to assist hundreds of families across the region.

Then, I was asked by the National Association of Domestic Violence to travel to other shelters and organizations in the United States to help them grow legal services clinics.

It was fun and exhausting, but I loved advocating for the vulnerable.

Protecting women and children from violence, discrimination, and anyone that could prey on them filled me with a deep sense of satisfaction.

Declan was right—my legal skills were my superpower.

In addition, I kept working for Lucas Kim, becoming his personal general counsel and friend. I helped him buy and sell companies and negotiated his contracts. It was fun and challenging and kept me busy.

Declan had taken over as CEO at Quinn Fisheries and had built a successful beverage distribution company with his two brothers. He was doing things his way and it suited him. CEO Declan was even hotter than ever.

I carefully bundled up each child, going through my mental checklist of hats, mittens, boots, and scarves. Oliver beamed at me. “Mama, I so excited.”

“I know, sweetie.”

Last week some volunteers had come by to pick up our tree. We never missed the Annual Christmas Tree Burn, not when I was pregnant or even when we had babies. It was our special tradition, and we savored it.

Alas, it was a bit harder with the two little kids.

Thankfully, Annie and the Captain were going to take them home for a sleepover so the adults could cut loose a bit later.

While I was looking forward to sitting by the fire with my friends, I was really looking forward to having a night alone with my husband.

Declan double-checked the diaper bag, and I felt my ovaries tingle.

He was so sexy when he was in dad mode. Despite his surly exterior, Declan was the silliest, most doting dad on the planet.

He played every game, read bedtime stories with silly voices, and remembered everyone’s constantly changing food preferences.

“Moooom,” complained Amelia, “we are going to be late.” She was only five but was tall, self-assured, and a tiny bit intense. She spent a lot of time with her grandfather on his sailboat. He called her “the Captain” now and it was adorable. She tapped her boot-clad foot and crossed her arms.

Declan handed me Oliver, who was almost two, and grabbed his coat off the hook by the door. “Can’t wait for those teen years,” he whispered into my ears before grabbing Amelia and throwing her over his shoulder as he jogged to the truck. She shrieked with joy and I smiled.

The tree burn was just as magical as ever.

After the kids went home with their grandparents and we had chatted with our friends, Declan and I stood, watching the fire together as fat snowflakes began to fall.

He squeezed my hand through my glove, and I felt my heart swell as I stared into the dancing flames.

He turned toward me and gently cupped my cheek. I gazed up at him, his eyes illuminated by the fire. He slowly lowered his mouth and kissed me gently. “Eight years,” he whispered.

I grabbed the back of his neck, feeling the magic of our first kiss coursing through my veins. “How about we head back to the truck?” I asked saucily.

“You want to recreate it?” he asked with a playful grin.

I pulled him so close I could feel his breath on my cheek. “I think I’d like a bit more than kissing,” I said, and I felt his grip on my waist tighten.

“Anything for you, killer.”

I took a chance, coming back to Havenport, leaving the firm, and going after Declan.

I was never a risk taker—I was more of a careful strategist. But I had learned a few things over the past eight years, and one of them was that there were risks worth taking.

I escaped to Havenport and found myself.

But I also found my person. And I was never letting him go.