Page 123 of Under Water

She taps on her tablet. “Want to make an appointment for your son to see it?”

She says “your” in a way that I know she doesn’t mean just me. She means Easton too. And I realize in that moment that Elio has the one thing I have always wanted to give him: a family who wants to be here.

“Yes,” I tell her firmly. “As soon as we can.”

She marks it down. “You’ll get a text confirmation in a minute. I’ll give you two a bit of time to check it out while I call the agent and let them know to expect your application.”

“Thank you,” I tell her.

She smiles. “You bet. And I’ll call my brother so he doesn’t blow up your phones later.”

I smile as Easton bursts into laughter, and Maria walks out the front door, giving us a proper moment alone. Easton still has my hand, but his fingers are a little loose in mine. When I try to step away, he tugs me back and shakes his head.

“Not yet. I’m just trying to absorb it all.”

“That I love you?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“That this is the beginning of us?”

His voice is a whisper when he answers. “Yes.”

I tug him close and kiss him one more time. “Me too. And I never want that feeling to stop.”

EPILOGUE

RUNE

Taking a deep breath, I smile. The air is filled with the scent of cooking meat and vegetables, and there’s laughter from one end of the yard to the other. There’s a small gazebo with a hanging swing bed low enough that Elio can transfer in and out of it on his own.

There’s a weakness in his arms that I’ve started seeing that reminds me his body is not done changing. I don’t know how long he’ll be able to do those things on his own. But for now, I can breathe a little easier, knowing that he’s safe.

That he’s strong, and he’s brave. That he’s been through some of the worst things, and he’s still okay.

And I didn’t fuck up entirely.

“My dude!”

I jolt when Lex swings his arm around me and gives me a shake. I can tell he’s a little tipsy, which is fine since his wife is pregnant and can’t drink. He plants a kiss on my cheek.

“How does it feel?”

I look at him with a raised brow. “How does what feel?”

It’s a loaded question. In the last six months, Easton and I have moved into this place and realized that our landlord—and soon-to-be seller of the house—is London. He was more than thrilled to know that we were the ones who were taking it over, and his Realtor had to talk him out of dropping the price to the point he would be paying out the ass to let us have it.

And then there was the divorce. It was uncontested, considering Neal was in jail and he didn’t have a leg to stand on. He was offered the chance to attend the hearing through a video call, but he declined. The judge took a look at all my documents and signed everything without asking me a single question.

And then there was the plea deal. Initially, it sent me into a fury because I didn’t want Neal to get any kind of leniency when it came to what he did. The trauma of our marriage, and the way he chose to end it, would last. Maybe forever, and it wasn’t just me who sometimes woke up shaking and sweating from nightmares.

But it wasn’t a bad deal. He pleaded guilty for nine years plus time served, which meant Elio would be twenty-one by the time he was allowed to set foot outside the prison—assuming he didn’t make early parole—but in the end, it didn’t matter.

His lawyer put in a petition to transfer him to California, where his family lived, and it was granted. It meant I didn’t have to think about him being nearby. I didn’t have to breathe the same air as him ever again.

And for the first time in a long time, I felt safe.

None of us attended the sentencing. My lawyer read statements from me and Elio, and Daphne came into town just so she could watch his face when he was taken away in cuffs, knowing he’d spend the better part of a decade thinking about every mistake he’d made that led him to this moment.