A MARRIAGE OF HATE: Chapter 11 - The End - Page 15 of 15

A MARRIAGE OF HATE: Chapter 11 – The End

EPILOGUE
.
Killian?

Six months later

I walked out of the bathroom with a wet cloth in my hand.

Julianna was sprawled in bed, where I had left her, nked and smiling. Her hand was rubbing her pregnant belly and I found myself smiling at the sight.

Julianna was ten days past her due date and we had been impatiently waiting for the arrival of our first child.

But it appeared that our son was in no hurry to leave his mother’s womb just yet.

“He’s already like you. Stubborn and doing things his way,” Julianna had said to me the night before.

Well, if my son was anything like me, Julianna was in for a ride.

Though I didn’t doubt for a second that she would be the perfect mother to our children. Patient. Kind. Gentle. Understanding.

With a knee on the mattress, I leaned forward and pressed the warm cloth be tween her th ighs, wiping away my seed.

Julianna hummed in response and her eyes fluttered close.

“Tired?”

She let out a big yawn in response.

“I’m really sore.”

My lips twitched. My wife was insatiable during her pregnancy.

Julianna wanted sx all the time and she didn’t care where it was or if it wasn’t an appropriate time to attack her husband.

Like yesterday, she had str addled me, bouncing up and down while I was on the phone with my father.

Not that I was complaining.

I guessed we were making up for lost time – three very long years.

After making sure she was clean, I threw the cloth into our laundry basket and then brought her the plate of guavas, honey and whip cream she had asked for.

Weird pregnancy cravings.

I wasn’t sure how that would taste, but I didn’t question her choice.

I was about to pass Julianna the plate when her face twisted. Her body tightened and then she gasped.

“Oh, no.”

My eyes darted be tween her le gs, finding a we t spot.

Julianna flushed, her eyes growing wide and she sat there, appalled.

I acted on instinct, as I bent forward and lifted her off the be d.

“It’s okay,” I soothed, gathering her in my arms.

“Let’s get you in the tub and I’ll change the sheets.”

“Wait,” she said softly. “I don’t think I peed the b ed.

I blinked, confused. “Huh?”

Her eyes met mine and she swallowed.

“I think my water just broke.”

Thud. My heart leaped in my throat.

“Ready to be a daddy?” my wife asked, smiling.

But I nodded, nonetheless. Because it didn’t matter if I was ready or not, my son was coming.

Six hours later, Cameron Theodore Spencer made his grand entrance, wailing at the top of his little lungs.

Almost like he rejected the idea of being pulled out of his safe and warm cocoon.

Julianna sagged against my chest and I curled my arm around her.

“He’s here,” I said to her. “You’re so amazing, Princess.”

I had watched her go through an intense labor in the last six hours and she left me in awe with her strength and perseverance.

I was madly in love with this woman.

Cameron was still screaming, thru sting his tiny fists into the air.

Rani wrapped up my crying son in a yellow blanket, like a burrito, before she placed him in Julianna’s arms.

The moment he was in her arms, his cries quieted down. Cameron blinked up at his mother, mesmerized.

He let out a hiccup, his lips pursing as if he was debating if he should cry or just enjoy his mother’s embrace.
Our son.

He had my black hair and nose and…his eyes were grey, like his mother’s.
My wife let out a choked sob, laughing through her tears.

“Look at you, my sweet little angel,” she whispered.

“So strong and stubborn like your daddy. What am I going to do with the two of you?”

My shoulders shook with silent laughter.

“You promised me four more babies.”

Julianna leveled me with a glare.

“Two.”

“Four,” I shot back.

Her lips pursed. “Three.”

“Deal.”

Julianna rolled her eyes before passing me our son. I cradled him in my arms, bringing him closer against my chest.

We stared at each other, quiet and serious.

My chest tightened with various emotions crashing through me like a wave.

But the most prominent feeling was violent protectiveness for my son.
A part of me and a part of Julianna.

I would tear the world down if anything were to happen to him.

“Hello, son.” He hiccupped at my voice, his tiny fists flailing.

My wife leaned into me, letting her head fall on my shoulder.

“Julianna,” I started.

“Hmm.”

My heart thudded in my chest. “We are not Arabella and Elias or Sierra and Jonathan, or Camille and Lucas, or Mackenzie and Elliot.”

The four tragic couple of this cursed castle.

Julianna laced her fingers through mine, squeezing.

“Fate had been cruel to us. I made choices that I’ve lived to regret. We both made mistakes. We had to fight for our happily ever after. In the end, I chose you. You chose me.”

“We’re Julianna and Killian, and we deserve our happy ending,” I said to my wife.

This wasn’t a pretty fairy tale.

Our love story was messy and flawed – a twisted tale.

But it was perfect in the most imperfect way.

THE END

A MARRIAGE OF HATE: Chapter 11 – The End