Epilogue 1| A Farewell

A stream of sunlight filtered through the lush curtains, casting golden patterns across the bedroom.

The warmth stirred Ethan awake, and instinctively, he reached across the bed for Sophie—something that had become second nature. But his hand met only cool sheets.

Blinking sleep from his eyes, he frowned. "Sophie?" His voice was rough with sleep, barely above a mumble.

It was Sunday. Sophie never worked on Sundays, and after the long week they'd had, he expected her to sleep in. Yet it wasn't even 8 a.m., and she was already up.

As Ethan wandered through the quiet halls, the distant sound of construction drifted in from the back of the house.

The renovations had been underway for weeks—an expansion he'd never thought he'd get to. Back when it was just him, he couldn't imagine needing the extra space.

But now, with Sophie and Millie Rose, his little family, he dreamed of more. A bigger home. A princess room for their daughter. A place where their life together could grow.

He didn't have to search long. As he turned down the hall, Sophie appeared, gently closing Millie's nursery door behind her.

Her smile, radiant and warm, made his heart skip a beat. That smile always did something to him—something indescribable yet wholly consuming.

"You're up early," she teased, stepping into his arms, her hands resting lightly against his bare chest.

Ethan pulled her closer, burying his face in the curve of her shoulder with a contented sigh. "You said you'd try to rest today," he murmured, his voice soft and warm against her skin.

Sophie laughed, threading her fingers through his messy hair. "I know, but I still woke up early. Old habits, I guess."

She tilted her head, studying him. Sleep-tousled and shirtless, Ethan looked effortlessly disheveled in a way that made her heart flutter. There was something magnetic about him in moments like these—unguarded, warm, utterly hers.

But as much as she adored him, nothing compared to the way she felt watching him with Millie. There was a tenderness in the way he cared for their daughter, an ease in the way he soothed her, held her, made her giggle.

It melted Sophie every time, leaving her marveling at how lucky they were to have built this life together.

"Is Millie asleep?" Ethan asked, his gaze drifting toward the nursery door.

She'd be turning one soon, and Ethan often thought these were the best moments of his life.

Sophie smiled knowingly. "I nursed her earlier, and she went right back down. But..." She hesitated as a faint cry broke through the quiet. She exhaled a soft laugh. "I jinxed it."

Together, they stepped into Millie's nursery. Their daughter stood in her crib, tiny hands gripping the railing, her little face scrunched up in distress.

Ethan was beside her in an instant, scooping her up with practiced ease. "Daddy's here," he murmured, his voice a low, soothing rumble. He swayed gently, pressing a kiss to Millie's temple.

Her cries quieted into soft coos, then giggles, her chubby fingers tangling in his hair. She was a happy baby—curious, bright, always ready to laugh. A blessing neither of them took for granted.

"I've got her," Ethan said, his voice tender as he shifted Millie against his chest.

"And I'll get breakfast started," Sophie replied with a smile.

Ethan flashed her a grin. "Yeah, we're the dream team."

Sophie kissed Millie's cheek before heading downstairs. Their routine had become second nature by now.

Millie was an easy baby—she slept through most nights, rarely fussed, and filled their home with endless laughter.

Her flower shop was thriving, too, they had gotten more new permanent staff and expanded a lot. Balancing work and motherhood had become easier, especially with Ethan home most days.

When he needed to work, Sophie brought Millie along to the shop, where their daughter had quickly become an honorary mascot.

When they needed time alone, Martha or Evelyn were always happy to babysit. Even Mia and Lily had a rotating schedule to watch over their little angel. It made sense—Millie was the first grandchild on both sides, and everyone adored her.

And Sophie knew, without a doubt, that her baby was the cutest in the world.

Maybe it was because Millie Rose looked so much like her daddy. She had Ethan's striking blue eyes, the kind that always held more emotion than he ever said out loud.

Her hair was already growing in, wispy and soft, and it was clear she would be blonde—just like Sophie and Sophie's dad.

Maybe Millie was the gift that would always remind them of him.

Her mom and Lily had noticed it right away too. Somehow, that small detail warmed their hearts, like a quiet piece of the past still living on.

But it was almost eerie how Millie had inherited the Sinclair family eyes. Sophie hadn't even known it was a thing until she'd helped Evelyn declutter her home and stumbled across old family portraits. Generations of Sinclair's, all with those same piercing blue eyes.

Sophie was glad Millie had them. Because now, whenever Ethan looked at his own reflection, he didn't just see the man who had hurt him. He saw his daughter—his bright, beautiful, innocent Millie Rose Sinclair.

Now, because of Millie, Ethan had come to love the Sinclair blue eyes in a way he never thought possible.

Babies had a way of healing you. And Sophie could confidently say—Ethan was healed. A very healed man.

But that healing had also strengthened his resolve.

Ethan had cut off his father completely, and he had no regrets. He didn't want Robert in Millie's life. He allowed Evelyn to share pictures if she wanted, but that was as far as it went. No direct contact.

Sophie understood. Ethan had his trauma, but more than anything, he wanted Millie to have the best childhood possible. He wanted her to dream, to soar, to believe she could do anything—because he would always be there to catch her.

Because that's what good parents did. And Ethan was determined to be one.

Robert, meanwhile, was still terribly ill—his days numbered. Evelyn had chosen to stay with him through the end. Ethan didn't understand why, but Sophie did.

Evelyn didn't stay out of love. She stayed because she pitied him. Robert had lived a miserable, pathetic life, and she was going to bury him with the hatred she had carried since the day she married him.

And maybe, once he was gone, she would finally bloom too.

Ethan interrupted her thoughts, coming downstairs with Millie in his arms. She was now dressed in an adorable onesie, and Sophie couldn't help but beam at the sight of them.

"You're too good at this," she teased, watching as he adjusted Millie's outfit like a professional. Maybe even better at dressing her than Sophie was.

Clapping her hands, she grinned as Millie babbled happily. "My Millie's the cutest baby I know."

"Ma... Da-da!" Millie squealed, shaking her arms excitedly.

Sophie gasped in mock offense. "Millie, we've been over this—it's 'Ma-ma.' Come on, say 'Ma-ma.'"

"Da-da!" Millie declared again, beaming as Ethan laughed triumphantly.

"Give it up, Soph. It's 'Dada,'" he teased, settling Millie into her high chair.

The day flew by quickly. Most of it was spent playing with Millie while Sophie stole a few moments of rest, knowing she'd be back to work tomorrow.

By the time evening came, both she and Ethan were exhausted. After tucking Millie into her crib, they retreated to their bedroom.

"I'll just take a quick shower and get ready for bed," Sophie said with a yawn as she stretched her arms.

"Hey, you promised you'd watch that new movie with me tonight," Ethan countered, turning to her with a playful smirk that softened the sharp lines of his face.

Sophie groaned, rolling her eyes. "Oh, don't look at me like that! You know I can't resist."

"Whatever do you mean, Sophie?" Ethan teased, his tone light but his smirk widening. "Unless... you're feeling guilty."

She crossed her arms, feigning annoyance. "Fine. I'll watch the movie with you."

Truthfully, she loved these little traditions—the way they always ended up tangled together on the couch, Ethan making dumb comments about the plot, Sophie throwing popcorn at him when he got too annoying.

"Yay!" Ethan said, way too excited.

Sophie laughed at his excitement, stepping closer and ruffling his messy hair. "Gosh, you're so cute," she said, her voice softening as she looked at him.

The way her eyes lit up when she smiled always did something to him, and before he could stop himself, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

It started slow, tender, but it quickly deepened, his lips moving with a kind of desperation she hadn't expected.

Sophie pulled back just enough to whisper, breathless but grinning, "Ethan, I really need to shower."

He ignored her, leaning in to kiss her again, hands slipping beneath the hem of her shirt.

She laughed against his lips before pushing him away—gently, because, let's be real, she wasn't exactly dying to leave his arms. "Hey! I feel gross right now. Let me shower first!"

Ethan sighed dramatically. "Why do you have to be so gorgeous?" he muttered, his voice serious and low. "You know I can't resist you."

"Well, try," she teased, slipping out of his grasp and disappearing into the bathroom.

Ethan let out an exaggerated sigh as he flopped back onto the bed. "That's not even possible—it's like telling someone not to drink water when they're thirsty."

Ethan flopped back onto the bed, dramatically sighing like the world had just betrayed him. "That's not even possible—it's like telling someone not to drink water when they're thirsty."

Sophie's laugh rang through the door. "Save me the analogies, Sinclair."

"You're so mean to me," Ethan whined.

Then, softer, quieter—like he didn't even need her to hear, but he wanted to say it anyway:

"Baby, you know how much I love you, right?"

Sophie froze for a moment, her hand resting on the sink. His words, so earnest and unexpected, sent warmth spreading through her chest. She bit her lip, knees suddenly weak.

"God, Ethan, you're so stinking cute," she whispered to herself—before flinging the door open and rushing back to him.

She jumped into his arms, kissing him fervently, fingers threading through his hair as his arms tightened around her, pulling her impossibly close.

Then, just as quickly, she pulled back, laughing as she darted toward the bathroom again. "Now let me shower!" she called, locking the door behind her.

Ethan stood there, dazed. "Sophie Sinclair, you are so cruel."

With a sigh, he headed downstairs to set up for their movie.

Sophie took her time in the shower, letting the hot water wash away the exhaustion of the day. By the time she stepped out, she felt refreshed, warm, and ready to curl up with Ethan for the night.

Slipping into her favorite pajamas—the ones she knew drove Ethan crazy—she made her way downstairs, expecting to find him sulking playfully on the couch, waiting for her.

Instead, she stopped in her tracks.

Ethan sat there, phone in hand, his face pale and unreadable. The easy charm he'd worn earlier was gone, replaced by something darker. Something heavy.

Sophie's stomach twisted. "What's wrong?" she asked, her voice careful, laced with concern. "Are you... that mad at me?" She tried to tease, tried to coax a smile from him, but it faltered the moment he looked up.

His blue eyes were clouded, distant. "Sophie..." His voice cracked. He swallowed, trying again. "My father... he's dead."

The silence that followed was deafening.

Sophie blinked, her mind racing to process the words.

Then, without hesitation, she crossed the room and wrapped her arms around him.

Ethan didn't cry. Not at first. He sat stiffly in her embrace, his breathing uneven, his body trembling just slightly. Sophie could feel the storm inside him, the tidal wave of emotions he was trying so desperately to hold back.

She ran her fingers through his hair, whispering softly, "It's okay, baby. I'm here."

And that was all it took.

The weight of years—of pain, resentment, unspoken words—came crashing down.

Ethan clenched his jaw, his shoulders shaking as he exhaled a sharp, broken breath.

And finally, he let it go.

********

The day of Robert Sinclair's funeral was marked by cold, relentless rain, as if even the heavens knew he didn't deserve sunshine.

Ethan stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the lapel of his black suit. In the background, the steady drone of the news played on the television.

"Robert Sinclair, Business Mogul, Dead at 67."

The headline flashed bold and unforgiving across the screen.

He barely heard it.

Sophie entered the room quietly, dressed in a simple black dress, her hair neatly swept back. In her arms, she carried Millie, who was dressed in a tiny black two-piece outfit, complete with an adorable black hat.

Even on a day like this, they still deserved some cuteness.

Millie, always so close to her daddy, had sensed his grief in the past few days. Even now, her usual giggles were absent as she clung tightly to Sophie, unusually solemn.

"Ethan, we're ready," Sophie said softly, offering him a small, supportive smile. He was going to need a lot of those today.

Ethan turned to her, nodding as he let out a slow, measured breath. He took Sophie's free hand, his grip firm but grateful, and together they walked to the car.

Outside, the rain drummed against the windows of their sleek black sedan. As they arrived at the funeral ground, the chaos of the press became apparent—cameras flashing, voices murmuring. Security moved swiftly, forming a protective barrier to usher the family inside without incident.

Ethan stepped out first, balancing Millie in one arm while holding a black umbrella in the other. Sophie followed, her own umbrella shielding her from the rain as they made their way toward the covered seating area near the burial site.

Millie, usually so full of life, remained quiet, her wide blue eyes scanning the unfamiliar surroundings.

Under the large canopy, Evelyn stood with her hands clasped in front of her, wearing thick, dark glasses. But the puffiness beneath them betrayed her grief.

Sophie approached first, wrapping Evelyn in a gentle hug. "Are you doing okay?" she asked softly.

Evelyn nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll be alright."

She managed a faint, weary smile before turning her attention to Millie, who blinked sleepily in Ethan's arms.

"She's so quiet today," Evelyn murmured, her voice laced with both surprise and sorrow.

"She knows," Sophie replied, brushing a hand over her daughter's hat. "Babies always do."

A crowd had gathered—distant relatives, family friends, business associates. Many were here more for appearances than out of respect.

Robert hadn't had many real friends. At least, none that truly cared.

Sophie noticed the way some guests whispered amongst themselves, their eyes flickering toward Ethan with thinly veiled interest.

To them, this funeral wasn't just about mourning Robert Sinclair. It was another opportunity to network, to position themselves closer to power.

Sophie tightened her grip on Millie, grateful that no one dared to approach them.

It had been a grueling two weeks since Robert's death. Ethan had shouldered everything—lawyers, shareholders, greedy relatives hoping to see if the Sinclair fortune would somehow trickle their way.

But maybe the hardest thing of all... was discovering that Robert had left an inheritance for Millie.

Was that his way of atoning? A last-minute attempt to rewrite the past?

Sophie almost wished he hadn't. It only made things more complicated for Ethan.

He had been strong through it all. But she knew—today would be the hardest.

Because for Ethan, this wasn't just the end of a complicated relationship.

It was the final act.

From where he stood, Ethan caught sight of the coffin, its polished wood gleaming even under the gray light of the day.

At one point, his father had been everything to him. Someone he had desperately wanted to please, someone he had wished—hoped—they could have been a real father and son.

But Robert Sinclair had been the source of a loneliness that had cut deep into Ethan's life, carving out a hollow space filled with self-loathing and doubt.

Ethan had severed ties long ago, walking away from the toxic grasp of a man who had only known how to control and demand.

He wanted to hate him. Sometimes, he thought he did.

And yet, one night, not long before Millie was born, Ethan had found himself driving to the hospital, almost against his own will. He remembered standing in the doorway, staring at the frail, diminished man lying in that hospital bed.

Robert hadn't seen him that night, and Ethan hadn't stayed. Seeing his father so weak, so human, had shaken something loose in him.

This wasn't the man who had loomed over his childhood like an unmovable mountain. This was someone whose strength had crumbled to dust, a mere shadow of the powerful figure he had once been.

Ethan had left that night with a knot of emotions he couldn't untangle—pity, anger, and something uncomfortably close to sorrow.

His father would have hated for anyone to see him like that. Robert had built his entire life on being seen as strong and untouchable, even at the expense of his own family.

After Millie was born, everything had shifted for Ethan. Holding his daughter for the first time, looking into those bright blue Sinclair eyes, he knew with absolute certainty—she would never feel the way his father had made him feel.

How could anyone treat their child like that?

Ethan didn't want to carry the burden of hatred anymore. Forgiveness wasn't for Robert—it was for himself, so he could live freely and fully, unchained from the shadows of his past.

A quiet voice broke through his thoughts.

"The service is about to begin, Mr. Sinclair."

Ethan turned toward the funeral coordinator, nodding. Then, shifting his gaze, he found Sophie sitting a short distance away, Millie cradled in her arms. When she noticed him, she stood, her expression soft, understanding.

He walked over, and she gently adjusted Millie, preparing to hand her over.

As he took his daughter into his arms, he felt the weight of her tiny, warm body against his chest. She was dozing peacefully, her little fingers curling against his shirt. A swell of love rose so powerfully in him that it almost hurt.

Then, his gaze flickered to his mother.

Would she finally be free now?

Evelyn wiped away a stray tear with trembling fingers but managed a small, sad smile when their eyes met.

Without a word, the four of them walked toward the gravesite, the rain falling softly around them. Other family members followed, but Ethan barely registered them.

He held Millie close, felt Sophie's hand resting lightly on his arm, and Evelyn just behind them. They were a family—imperfect, healing, but whole.

As the coffin was lowered into the ground, Ethan wasn't sure what he felt.

He thought about what he might say to his father if he had the chance.

But then he changed his mind.

Robert had never listened before—he wouldn't listen now.

Ethan glanced down at Millie, her tiny fingers curled against his chest, and then at Sophie.

In that moment, Ethan made a silent vow: he would never take this family for granted. He would cherish every laugh, every hug, every quiet moment. Because the life he had now—this family—was his greatest gift, and he would spend the rest of his days making sure they knew it.

As the final prayers were said and the crowd began to disperse, Ethan held Sophie's hand tightly, whispering, "Let's go home."

She nodded, leaning into him as they walked back to the car, leaving behind the rain and the weight of the past.

*******

Another Quick Note

And I'm back—just for two more epilogue chapters! I really enjoyed the break, but I couldn't stop thinking about Sophie and Ethan. I knew I had to deliver on the epilogue. This one's a bit on the longer side because I wanted to capture everything, and I hope it feels worth it!

I'm also so excited to share that our story has officially hit 10k words—what better way to celebrate than with this chapter? 🎉

If you're not already following, please do (I'm kinda lonely—just kidding... maybe). Don't forget to vote or leave a comment—I'd love to hear your thoughts!

What did you think of this chapter? Did it surprise you?

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