“Does this mean I get to call you Dad?” she asks.
Brett looks at me with raised brows, his eyes filled with hope.
“Yes,” I tell her, my smile reaching all the way to my tear-blurred eyes. “That’s exactly what it means.”
Epilogue
Brett
Twenty-five years later…
“Happy anniversary!” people shout as I walk my lovely bride onto the rooftop terrace.
Emma’s hand covers her heart in surprise. “Brett, you didn’t.”
“I did, and this isn’t the only surprise I have in store for you this evening.”
We make our rounds, being sure to greet everyone. Bass and Denver are here with their wives. We’ve remained close friends over the years, even though we’ve all moved on to different firehouses. Leo is here with his wife and kids. Evie is here with her husband and daughter. Our son Billy and his fiancée showed up, despite the fact that they’re getting married in just a few days. Even Jay is here, or should I say Captain Tiffin of Engine 58 in Lower Manhattan.
We are handed two glasses of champagne.
Billy grabs the microphone and takes center stage. “I’d like to make a toast to my parents. After twenty-five years of marriage, I can honestly say you are the best example of what love should be. I only hope Danielle and I are half as happy as the two of you. You’ve been through a lot, and it’s only made you stronger. I know Evie and Leo will join me in thanking you for being the most amazing parents any kids could ever ask for. So, everyone raise a glass to Brett and Emma Cash.”
“To Brett and Emma,” the guests say, followed by “Speech! Speech!”
Billy hands me the microphone.
“I’ll make this short and sweet. What can I say? Except that I ask myself every damn day what I ever did to deserve this woman. Here we are, on our silver anniversary, and I love her as much as the day we married.”
I kiss Emma’s temple. “Twenty-five years, sweetheart. Can you believe it?”
Tears pool in her eyes. “Yes, I can—because you always made me believe in us. And you better give me at least twenty-five more.”
The guests cheer and music plays.
I pull Emma aside. “Would you change any of it?”
She runs a finger across the long jagged scar spanning my arm that put me in the hospital for a week shortly after Billy was born. “No way, you?”
I look at her breasts, thinking of the three enduring years she battled cancer. “Nope. Like our son said, everything we’ve been through together had made us stronger.”
She leans in to kiss me. Even after twenty-five years, I still get hard every time her lips touch mine. She laughs when she feels the beginning of my erection.
“Are you ready to open your anniversary gift?” I ask.
“Here?”
“Why not?”
I pull an envelope out of my pocket and hand it to her. She eyes it curiously and then takes it from me. I watch as she opens the letter and reads, then looks at me in shock. “This is a letter of resignation. You’re retiring?”
“Yup.”
Her expressions zip through an emotional gamut, and I’m surprised when happiness is not one of them.
“Brett, you love working, and you’re only fifty-five.”
“Sweetheart, I thought you’d be pleased.”
She takes my face in her hands. “Babe, we’re not getting any younger. These twenty-five years have gone by in the blink of an eye. Retirement will come soon enough. I married Brett Cash, the man who would rather be out there fighting fires than doing anything else in the world. Every time you leave for work, you have a smile on your face. And every time you come home, the accomplishment and pride I see in you is palpable. You save people. You inspire them.” I nod to our children. “And damn it if you weren’t so inspiring that all three of our kids followed in your footsteps. So, no, I’m not happy about you retiring. You wouldn’t be you if you weren’t out there every day on the front lines, commanding your battalion.” She rips the letter to shreds. “Someday we’ll have to get used to a life without you doing that. But today is not that day.”
“God, woman. Do you know how much I love you?”
She smiles. “Of course I do. I’ve known for over twenty-five years.”
“Because when you know, you know,” I say with a wink.
“That’s right, Chief.”
My eyebrows shoot up and I pull her close. “You know what it does to me when you call me that,” I whisper.
I wonder how long we have to stay. Because I need my wife. I need to show her just how much I love her. In some ways, I’ve loved her all the way back to the storage closet where we first met.
I take a moment to appreciate what I have. I look at our three amazing kids and think about everything that had to happen to get us to where we are today. I gaze at my wife—my best friend, the love of my life—and think about what Emma’s father said: Everything happens for a reason.
I spot Jay and know he is who he is today because of the loss of his father.
I am amazed at all the good that has come about from the sacrifices of others.
If my mom hadn’t run inside that building to help, I never would have become a firefighter. If Kenny Lutwig hadn’t shot Carter and held Emma at gunpoint, we’d have never met. If William Lockhart hadn’t died that day, Evie wouldn’t exist. Neither would Billy.
I close my eyes.
“What is it?” Emma asks.
“Nothing.” I squeeze her hand. “It’s just that there’s so many people to thank for everything we have.”
She gives me a little shove. “Well, go ahead. Thank them.”
“I can’t,” I say, taking her into my arms. “Because the ones I really need to thank aren’t here.”
She looks into my eyes, understanding exactly what I mean.
Tears coat her lower lashes. “Thank you, Kenny Lutwig,” she says.
I nod, swallowing my own tears. “Thanks, Mom.”
Emma smiles and looks up at the sky. “Thank you, Daddy. You were right all along.”
THE END
While waiting for Bria’s story, why not pick up this sexy standalone?
Be My Reason is sure to make you laugh and cry.
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Acknowledgments
Fifteen books.
Fifteen books!
I had to write it twice because I still can’t believe it.
The past six years have been a wild ride to say the least. I never thought I’d be in a position to say I’d written fifteen books – there it is again!
They say it takes a village to write a book. Okay, they don’t say that. But to me, my books are like my children and it does take a village to get them from conception to publication.
My village may be small, but it’s mighty.
To my editors who have been with me since the beginning, Ann Peters and Jeannie Hinkle, thank you for your encouragement and endurance. Also, to my copy editor, LS at Murphy Rae Solutions—you’ve made me a better writer.
To my beta readers, Shauna Salley, Joelle Yates, Laura Conley, and Tammy Dixon—you ladies are so good at finding inconsistencies and misplaced quotation marks. And you’re pretty good at inflating my ego as well.
And finally, thank you to Thomas Butler, former FDNY firefighter, who was a first responder on 9/11. I can only imagine what you and every other person there had to go through. I’m sure all my questions brought memories to the surface and yet you answered them without fail.
The anniversary of that horrif
ic day is bittersweet for me. My son was born on September 11th. And 9/11 was the day he turned six. I’ll never forget having to put on a happy face for my child, who remained blissfully unaware for years how cruel this world can be.
This book is dedicated to anyone touched by that day.
Which is everyone.
About the author
Samantha Christy’s passion for writing started long before her first novel was published. Graduating from the University of Nebraska with a degree in Criminal Justice, she held the title of Computer Systems Analyst for The Supreme Court of Wisconsin and several major universities around the United States. Raised mainly in Indianapolis, she holds the Midwest and its homegrown values dear to her heart, and upon the birth of her third child devoted herself to raising her family full time. While it took time to get from there to here, writing has remained her utmost passion, and being a stay-at-home mom facilitated her ability to follow that dream. When she is not writing, she keeps busy cruising to every Caribbean island where ships sail. Samantha Christy currently resides in St. Augustine, Florida with her husband and four children.
You can reach Samantha Christy at any of these wonderful places:
Website: www.samanthachristy.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SamanthaChristyAuthor
Twitter: @SamLoves2Write
E-mail: [email protected]
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