epilogue
DECKER
Three Months Later
“Hello,Mr. Williams. Fancy meeting you here.” I bring Leena into my arms. She’s wearing the same dress we got married in while we stayed in Belize.
“And you, Mrs. Williams, are a goof.” A beaming smile has been plastered on her face all afternoon. It all came together. Well, between my mother and Leena’s, plus the girls, I was basically told the time, date, and place, given what I needed to wear, plus told to have an open wallet. Not that this is costing a fortune. There was something about paying for it that I felt was necessary to do. It came in the form of flowers, alcohol, and food. The tally ran up, but it was still cheaper for us to get married while on vacation after all. Though, to see the smile plastered on my wife’s face, it was worth it.
The reception we’ve had today is good for her and me, but also for our families, minus a brother, who once again is on a hiatus. This time, though, all strings are cut. There’s no line of communication. It was necessary and something that came up when my mother hit up a narcotics anonymous program. It was a meeting for family members on how to cope, grieve, and learn to live with what that person is dealing with. Since then, we cut off all communication. We’ve only seen Elijah once. He seemed to be doing well, but he’s had those moments before. It used to be that we’d let him stay with us a few days, feed him, let him shower, and he’d crash for a week or two, becoming clean, and then dash out again. The last time, though, Mom ate a sandwich with him outside on her porch and then told him she’d see him later. So, while it’s been good, it’s also been hard, especially on Melanie and Mitchell, who are now hanging out with Jace.
“You love me, though, goof and all.” Leena isn’t wrong in that either. It’s a nice cool day for Florida, a breeze in the air. The kids can swim in the pool if they want since we decided it’d be a good idea to have the reception here at Bob and Joyce’s. We both wanted something casual while still giving our families a celebration they were hell bent on having. If it were up to us, we’d be back on a vacation without anyone around.
“That I do, baby. Love you more each day.” I kiss her forehead, her arms banding around my waist, mine draped across her shoulder.
“I love you, too, Decker,” she sighs quietly in contentment, though I know her. My wife is gearing up to say something, so I wait, and it doesn’t take long. “What do you think about Deke showing up with a girlfriend?” It’s sad really, almost sucks for the Harts as much as it sucks with us and Elijah, except Deke is willingly staying in Alabama by choice, while Elijah is, well, he’s letting his demons conquer him. That being said, this is only the second time I’ve met him, even with Leena telling me Sunday dinners are not optional to miss unless we’re with my family. Those are Joyce’s words in a from-my-lips-to-God’s-ears statement. Apparently, Deke wasn’t included in that sentiment.
“Not sure. She seems nice enough,” I reply. Leena’s not really looking for my response, only needing to talk to someone about how she’s seeing things.
“Hmm, I’m thinking they barely know each other. I mean, he’s barely touched her, and every time she attempts to touch him or even talk, it’s like he’d rather be anywhere except here with her.” That’s what she was itching to tell me. My woman, observant as ever, not one to be direct, so to speak, unless it’s meaningful.
“I can’t say that I’ve paid a lick of attention to anyone but you, so I’m not the best person to ask. Maybe we should sit back and let Deke do his thing.” I watch as Leena grabs her glass of wine, white this time, and I know I’m in for an amazing night. My wife tipsy on the white grape-enriched drink will have her working my cock all night long.
“That’s the problem. The turd has been doing his own thing, as you call it, for months. I’m ready for my brother to pull his head out of his ass, and if that doesn’t happen soon, he’s going to find my foot up there, too,” Leena puffs out. I hide my chuckle knowing she’ll get pissed at that; instead, I bite my lower lip, which has an effect on my wife like no other. “Don’t you dare give me that right now. Between this”—she swirls her wine glass—“and the way you do that with your mouth, I’ll be ready to leave before we even cut the cake.”
“You act like that’s a bad thing. I know for a fact it was my mouth between your legs this morning while you begged for more.” Heat blazes in her eyes, and I know the effect my words have on her.
“Decker.” Yep, I’d say it’s about time we leave, and soon.