Forevermore.
Extended Epilogue
Some More Time Later
I look up from the box I’m unpacking when Aiden strolls into the kitchen with another box in his hands. He sets it down beside the one still half full of dishes.
“I thought you said there were no more boxes?” I ask, setting the wrapped plate down on the counter and taking stock of the new box. It doesn’t look like one of ours. “Where’d this come from?”
Instead of answering me, he wraps an arm around my waist and tugs me as close as he can with my expanded belly. Smiling up at him, I roll to my toes and meet him halfway for a kiss so sweet it curls my toes. We’ve been together going on ten years, and he still manages to steal my breath away.
Just like always, when we pull away, I’m left in an Aiden-induced fog. He nips the end of my nose, giving me his signature smile, and spins me around to face the new box on the counter. I’d prefer to continue what we were doing and christen the kitchen, one of the only rooms left that we haven’t yet, but his parents are due here any minute. The last thing we need is for them to catch us going at it on the kitchen counter.
He pushes my hair to the side and sets his chin on my shoulder.
“I was putting the Christmas decorations away in the attic when I came across several stacks of boxes. Figured you’d want to take a look inside.”
“Hmm….” I frown as I run my hand over the top and feel a weird since of familiarity. “We didn’t get a chance to look in the attic when we viewed the house. I wonder if they belonged to the previous owners.”
“No clue, but if they do, they’ve been missing them for a while. The house was on the market for years before we put in a bid.”
Which I found very strange when the realtor informed us of that. The house is gorgeous and in really good condition for its age.
“Do you think we should open it, or just contact the realtor?” I ask Aiden, even though I really want to open it and see what’s inside. There’s a strange feeling inside my stomach telling me I need to open it.
He lets me go and grabs the box cutter from the counter, sliding the blade across the tape on the top of the box. “I don’t know about you, but I’m dying to know what’s inside.”
My eyes are glued on the box in anticipation when I ask, “Do you feel it too?”
We both look at each other at the same time.
“You mean that bizarre feeling that we’re supposed to see whatever’s in this box?”
I let out a breath, grateful I’m not the only one. “Yes.”
He leans over and pecks my lips. “Yes. I feel it too.”
He sets the box cutter down, but instead of opening the flaps, he comes back around to stand behind me, his hands settling around my waist.
“Open it,” he says quietly.
With my heart pounding and my hands shaking—why in the world am I so nervous—I open the flaps. I’m surprised when I find the box filled to the brim with books. I pick up the top one. The cover is beautiful and looks hand painted. It’s a light purple and blue sky full of twinkling fireflies.
“Wow,” I breathe. “This is beautiful.”
Aiden’s hand appears and he runs his fingers over the design. “Whoever painted this knew what they were doing.”
Worried the cover may come apart at the seam, I carefully open it. The first page has a woman’s name on it.
Molly Caldwell Bradshaw.
Caldwell has a strike through it, and Bradshaw is underneath.
I flip to the next page and immediately recognize what the book is.
“It’s someone’s journal,” I murmur.
I know I probably shouldn’t read it, but something induces a need in me to do so. The date at the top of the page is March 1990.
Dear Linc,
I’m so excited to start writing in my new journal. I got it for my birthday today, and it was my favorite gift. There’s a new boy who moved in down the street from me. His name is Lincoln and he’s the one who gave me this journal. The cover is so pretty with a purple and blue sky with a bunch of fireflies. I promised I would write all the things we do together in it. He also painted my lunch box and made it so much prettier than what it was. He says we’re best friends now. I’ve never had a best friend before. I know I’m going to like having Lincoln as mine. He’s so nice and fun to play with. I wish we could play together all of the time. I can’t wait for tomorrow when I can see him again. When I was standing at my window last night, I saw a shooting star. I wished that Lincoln never moves away, and we’ll always be friends. I don’t ever want to be without Lincoln.
I don’t know why, but after reading the entry, my eyes fill with tears. I sniff and blink them away. Slowly closing the journal, I set it back inside on top of the others.
Aiden and I met when we were twelve. I remember feeling the same way this Molly girl felt about her Lincoln. Hoping and praying that Aiden and I would always be friends. After living in the same house up until that point and leaving my friends behind, I hated being the new girl around. It was scary at first, but meeting Aiden made things a lot better. We became instant friends, then became more the night I turned sixteen. I look down at my stomach. Now we’re married and are expecting our first child. A little boy we’ve already given a name too.
Grayson Carter Scott.
Aiden turns me around by my waist, and I’m left staring up into his concerned gray gaze.
“What’s wrong?”
I smile. “Nothing.” I look at the box over my shoulder, then back at him. “That entry was just so sweet. That Molly girl seems like she really likes Lincoln. I hope they remained friends.”
“Only one way to find out. You gonna read them all?”
Biting my lip, I think about his question for a moment. Should I read them? Probably not. These are obviously someone’s private thoughts. Will I read them? I don’t think I have a choice. I don’t know what the odd feeling is, but I feel compelled to read them. Like I’m supposed to.
“Yes,” I finally answer.
Aiden smiles. “I’ll grab the rest from the attic for you.”
Excitement bubbles inside me. Since I was a little girl, I’ve written in my own journals. It may be wrong of me, but I’m looking forward to reading someone else’s. And I’m anxious to see if Molly and Lincoln stayed friends, or possibly became more.
Aiden’s palms surround my face and he leans down, pressing a sweet kiss against my lips.
“I love you,” he says once we break apart.
“Love you too.”
He grins, his eyes so full of love. “Always.”
I smile back. “And forevermore.”
Afterword
There are so many things I could say about Lincoln and Molly’s story, but I’ll keep it short and sweet. Their story came to me over three years ago. It’s changed a lot in those three years. It started out as simply as a girl writing her imaginary thoughts to her future husband in her journals, never knowing those innocent fantasies would become a reality when she grew up. Unknowing to her, the words she wrote for years as a girl were actually premonitions of past lifetimes she spent with her soul mate. When I started writing their story, it exploded into so much more. I adore each and every book I’ve written, but this series consumes my heart. Despite the tragedy that happens to Molly and the emotional turmoil Lincoln goes through, to me, their love is the most epic kind of love two people can have. It has no end and will forever live on.