Chapter Text
Epilogue
Six months had passed since that morning in his kitchen when everything changed. When Juliet’s lips touched his for the first time and it felt less like a beginning and more like the world finally righting itself.
He never thought of her as the babysitter anymore. That word belonged to another life, a fragile stage where they both circled the truth but wouldn’t say it aloud. Now she was simply Juliet—his Juliet. She had moved in not long after, her things slowly filling the quiet corners of his house. The first morning he’d found her toothbrush next to his, John had just stood there, staring at it like a fool, his chest full and tight. By now, she’d claimed the space completely, softening the edges of his once regimented home. A blanket folded over the back of the couch, her perfume lingering in the hallway, the steady rhythm of her laughter drifting from the kitchen when she cooked with Ava.
And Ava—God, he didn’t think he’d ever seen his daughter this happy. She’d always been his little light, but these days she burned brighter, more secure, her small world anchored by Juliet’s presence. She clung to her, adored her, confided in her. It was everything John had wanted for his girl but hadn’t dared to hope he could give her again after losing so much.
As for himself? He hadn’t known contentment could look like this. Juliet curled against him on the couch at night. Juliet sprawled in his bed, hair across his pillow, her soft breathing lulling him to sleep. Juliet’s hand in his, absent-mindedly rubbing her thumb over his knuckles while they grocery shopped. Even the heat between them—God, that he hadn’t expected. He’d known he wanted her, sure. But the intensity of it? The way a single look from her could set him off balance? The way she trusted him with her body, her softness, her surrender? It humbled him. Made him want to be better, do better.
Which was why, on this ordinary Saturday, he found himself grinning like a damn fool as he leaned against the endcap of a shelf in the little downtown bookstore, just watching his girls.
Juliet crouched beside Ava in the children’s aisle, her sundress pooling around her knees, hair slipping forward as she tilted her head toward whatever brightly colored cover Ava was pointing at. Ava was chattering a mile a minute, her hands flapping as she tried to explain why this book was the one she needed today. Juliet listened with all the patience in the world, smiling that soft smile that made John’s chest ache.
It wasn’t just tenderness he felt, though that was always there. It was deeper—something low and steady that burned hotter every time he looked at her. She bent forward, laughing when Ava plopped the book in her lap, and John’s gaze snagged on the delicate curve of her neck, the way the fabric of her dress pulled across her chest. He’d never get used to it, how she could be so effortlessly beautiful. She wasn’t even trying. That was the thing. Juliet never tried to be anything other than herself. And still, she wrecked him daily.
He might’ve stood there staring longer if a voice at his shoulder hadn’t broken the spell.
“Well, if it isn’t John Price. Funny seeing you here.”
Cassandra.
John straightened slowly, his easy warmth cooling. He hadn’t seen her since that night—six months back when Juliet had walked out of his house with that fake smile plastered on her face, pretending she didn’t care. That night had nearly broken him. And Cassandra… she’d been the damn wedge between them.
Now here she was, all glossy hair and calculated smile, standing too close in the narrow aisle.
“Cassandra,” John said evenly, giving a short nod.
She continued, pretending not to notice his clipped tone. “I didn’t know you were the type to haunt bookstores.” Her eyes flicked toward Juliet and Ava before sliding back to him. “Are you here alone?”
“No,” John said simply.
Her lips curved, like she’d been waiting for that answer. “Well, maybe it’s fate then. We never did get together…” Her hand lifted slightly, a hint, an invitation.
Before he could shut that down, small footsteps padded his way. Ava darted out first, clutching her new book to her chest. Juliet followed at an easier pace, brushing hair back from her face as she came to stand beside them.
Cassandra’s smile shifted. “Ava. Hi, sweetheart.”
But Ava didn’t smile back. She stopped short, hesitated, then stepped behind Juliet, tucking herself against her side with a grip on her dress. Juliet’s hand immediately went to the little girl’s hair, soothing.
Cassandra’s gaze slid up, pinning Juliet with an appraising look. “Oh. The sitter.”
The words were coated in false sweetness, but John caught the edge beneath them. He didn’t give her the satisfaction of even a second’s pause. Sliding his arm easily around Juliet’s waist, he tugged her into his side, his hand resting openly on her hip.
“No,” he said, calm but firm, pride thrumming through him. “The girlfriend.”
Juliet’s body went still against his, then softened, a satisfied curve touching her lips. She didn’t say anything right away, but her eyes spoke volumes—warm, triumphant, maybe a little smug. John almost laughed.
Cassandra’s smile faltered just a fraction. She recovered quickly, offering some polite farewell before gliding away, heels clicking against the wooden floorboards.
As soon as she was gone, Juliet tilted her face up to him, the corner of her mouth quirking. “The girlfriend, huh?”
“Damn right,” John muttered, brushing his thumb along her hipbone. He couldn’t resist lowering his head and kissing her right there, slow and sure, not caring who saw.
“I love you,” she whispered against his mouth.
His chest tightened, like it always did when she said it. “Love you too, sweetheart.”
They might’ve stayed like that longer, but Ava’s voice broke in, clear and innocent.
“Does this mean I get a baby brother or sister now?”
Juliet jerked back with wide eyes, a flush spreading across her cheeks. John barked a laugh, one arm tightening around Juliet while the other reached out to ruffle Ava’s hair.
“Easy there, peanut,” he said, still chuckling. “One step at a time.”
But as he looked down at Juliet, at the way her blush mixed with her soft smile, John knew he wasn’t opposed to the idea. Not at all.
For now, though, he was content. He had Juliet. He had Ava. He had a family.
And for the first time in years, John Price was exactly where he wanted to be.