My hand comes around her waist, and I lead her from the nursery back to our room. Ivy shuts the door behind us softly, glancing at the monitor, and then brings her palms to my chest. She starts to unbutton my shirt with a gentleness only she could possess.
When her hands slide over my skin, pulling the fabric away from my body, I close my eyes, reveling in this feeling.
"Ivy," I choke out.
"I know," she whispers.
Her hands move to my trousers, unzipping the fly as she backs me into the chair in the corner. She guides me down into it and climbs onto my lap, lifting the hem of her nightgown as she does. When the silky fabric settles around her waist, she slips her hands into my briefs, pulling my hardening cock free.
I paw at her breasts through the silk and lace, and she arches into my touch, sliding against my cock. Teasing me as my lips find her nipple, shoving the straps of her nightgown down, trapping her arms at her sides.
She struggles against it in frustration until, inevitably, I drag the entire gown up over her head and toss it aside, leaving her naked in my lap.
"I'm still soft," she murmurs, her hand gliding over her belly nervously.
"I like you soft." I kiss her throat, pulling her closer, my cock trapped between us, anxious to plunge deep into her warmth. "I like you any way I can get you."
"It's been so long." She cups the back of my head, moaning as I dip lower to lick her nipples. "Please, Santi. Now. I need you now."
Reaching between us, I fumble around for my cock, teasing the head against her entrance, still trying to be gentle. Ivy takes over, grabbing my shaft and tilting her hips as she sinks down over me with an agonized sigh.
"Does it hurt?" I ask.
"No." She falls against me, her fingers digging into my shoulders. "It feels like exactly what I need. What we both need."
She rocks against me, and I tangle her hair in my fist, dragging her face down to mine while my other palm settles against her hip. She rolls her body against me, swallowing my groans as we fall back into our natural rhythm. We kiss until we can't breathe, hands groping everywhere we can reach. Teeth clashing and tongues dancing.
I suck her throat and worship every inch of her skin I can taste, and she cradles my head in her palms, whispering the only words that will ever matter.
"I love you, Santiago. I love you so much."
"I love you too," I confess, agony making my throat hoarse. "Fuck, Ivy—"
She smiles down at me as my grip on her tightens, fingers contracting around her as my orgasm steals any rational thought. My cock spasms and empties inside her, and she keeps going, using those last few moments to steal her own pleasure, wringing it from her body with a cry before she falls against my chest.
My arms come around her, and our skin sticks together, and there in the dim light, we catch our breaths and stroke each other and forget about everything else. The darkness of the day is gone, and I know it is not unintentional.
She knew I needed this, just as I know she does. I had wondered if we might talk about it. I had dreaded that she might ask for details, but I can see now she doesn't want them. And I could not be more grateful for her allowing me this. We each have our own endings with Abel, and now, we start again. A new chapter, just as I told him.
Ivy climbs off me slowly and kneels on the floor, removing my shoes, and pulling the unzipped trousers free. I arch an eyebrow at her as she takes my hand, pulling me up from the chair.
"Come on," she whispers. "Let's go wash this day off us."
I reach down, stroking her face and lifting her into my arms, wrapping her legs around my waist. "As you wish, Mrs. De La Rosa."
Epilogue
Ivy
3 Months Later
It is a bright winter day. I button Elena’s jacket and lift her out of the car. Santiago mutters a curse behind me, and I turn to find him fumbling with the stroller as he unfolds it.
“These things. I don’t understand why we need all the gadgets. I mean, a cup holder, for Christ's sake.” He gives it a shake, then runs his hands over the flat bed, tucking the blankets in around the still empty mattress with the little stuffed bear she sleeps with peeking out over the top.
He’s so careful with Elena, so caring. He’s a better father than I even imagined, and I had imagined him doting on her. He never gave himself enough credit.
He pushes the stroller toward us, eyes on Elena. She is reaching out for him with a big smile on her lips and her mouth open. She's all gums. Her cheeks are a healthy pink, her eyes the same shade as his. I know that can still change, but I hope not.
“You want your daddy, don’t you?” he asks, smiling a bright smile. He releases the stroller and takes her from me. “I hope all those people won’t expect to hold her,” he says to me with a glance through the windows of the French doors leading to the room where the party will be held after her baptism. It’s a baptism and a belated baby shower in one. The latter was Colette’s idea.
“Of course they’ll want to hold her,” I tell him. “She’s the reason they’re here. And you will smile and let them.”
“I will not.”
“Mm-hmm.” I push the stroller as we walk toward the small chapel at IVI. I remember our first night there. The night of the marking. It’s been more than a year since that day, and any feeling I used to associate with it or with this place is gone. That’s partly a choice and partly time healing old wounds. And during these past three months, Santiago and I have healed. We’ve started a new life together. A new life with our new family.
A pianist plays soft music, and I can smell incense burning beyond the chapel door. We park the stroller as soon as we’re inside and carry Elena in. I smile to find the small gathering already at the back of the church around the baptismal font. My father is standing beside Eva. He’s holding Michael’s hand, and Hazel is beside Michael. Jackson and Colette are here too, the two of them seemingly even closer than before. Colette is holding Ben. Antonia is talking to Marco’s wife and their two children as Marco stands nervously by.
Mercedes is accompanied by Judge. I’m more and more curious as to their relationship. They stand a little removed from the gathering. She will only stay for the baptism. I know she wanted to be godmother, but Santiago told her no. We haven’t discussed it yet, but we will, I'm sure, as time passes.
Jonathan Price stands as the representative of IVI, and I’m surprised but happily so. I remember meeting him. He’d been warm and kind, and Santiago is at ease around him. We smile in greeting.
The priest who married us is wearing his ceremonial robes. He clears his throat and smiles, gesturing for us to take our places.
Santiago and I take Elena’s coat off, and I leave it in the front pew so she’s dressed only in the long white christening gown that Antonia made her. I had no idea she could sew, but it’s beautiful and a shame it will only be worn once. Although that’s not entirely true. Each of our children will wear the gown at his or her baptism.
Marco straightens his tie as we approach, and Eva steps beside him. She’s beaming. He stiffens even more. It’s funny to see him nervous. Eva will be Elena’s godmother, and Marco will be her godfather. He actually got emotional when Santiago asked him.