“We’re running out of time,” Vivien says. “Lori may not last the week. I’m concerned about Saffron making a play for Bodhi if we don’t get it finalized before Lori passes.”
It’s been four weeks since Lori and Bodhi moved into our place, and her health has been steadily declining. She can’t get out of bed anymore, and we have a medical team watching her twenty-four-seven. Bodhi is getting more and more withdrawn. It’s been tough for the little guy.
Easton is helping. A lot. They formed an instant bond, and when Bodhi is feeling sad, Easton always knows how to cheer him up. Bodhi is cautious around Vivien and me, but he’s never rude or disrespectful. He’s a very well-mannered kid.
“Try not to worry. Dillon is Bodhi’s uncle, and Easton is his cousin. You are Reeve’s widow. You have the means to take care of him and the support of his adoptive mother. You have passed the family assessment process. Saffron Roberts has had no contact with her son, and she relinquished her rights at the time of the birth. Even if she does try something, I doubt she would get custody. She works in the porn industry, and she’s a known drug addict.”
“You don’t know how manipulative and cunning she is,” I say, kicking one heel up onto the table ’cause I know it will piss the dickhead off.
“Or how much she hates me,” Vivien adds.
Carson narrows his eyes on my foot as the phone on his desk rings. He gets up from the meeting table and answers the call, listening to whoever is on the other end, nodding. He looks up, his gaze darting between me and Viv as shock registers on his face. I drop my foot to the ground and sit up straighter in my chair as he ends the call and returns to the table.
“Well, we’ve just gotten one piece of good news.” He rests his palms on the table in front of us. “That was a police contact friend of mine. This isn’t public knowledge yet, but Saffron Roberts OD’d last night. She was officially pronounced dead two hours ago.”
Lori passed away three days before Thanksgiving and two days after we became Bodhi’s legal adoptive parents. Bodhi was inconsolable, and it was hard to bear witness to his grief. Watching him go through what Vivien and Easton had endured was hard, but we got him through it.
The four of us built an additional bench in the memorial garden for Lori, and I nailed a plaque up beside the one for Lainey and Reeve. Our project manager has been given strict instructions to ensure it’s taken with us to the new house. I’ve no idea how they’ll uproot and replant the tree, but we’re paying him enough fucking money to make it happen. He burst out laughing when I told him we want a lake with swans—until he realized I was serious, and then he nearly passed out.
The work on our new family home is progressing well, and we’re hoping to be in by the end of the summer because we have a new addition to the family on the way. Vivien surprised me on Valentine’s Day with the news she was pregnant, and we’re expecting a daughter in early November.
We were concerned about telling Bodhi, worried it would make him more unsettled, but if anything, it has helped. He’s seeing a therapist too. The same woman who helped Easton deal with his grief, and gradually he is opening up to her. Vivien or I sit in on the sessions so he has someone familiar to support him as he deals with his emotions.
Easton is very excited for the new baby, and his enthusiasm spread to his older brother, and it helped to distract him from his grief. Every night, the three of us sing to Vivien’s expanding belly, much to her obvious delight. Her pregnancy is moving fast, and I can’t wait to meet our little girl in four months’ time.
“Where are the little monsters?” I ask, stepping into the kitchen when I arrive home from work. We’ve delayed our European tour indefinitely now, choosing to focus on new music instead. We’re still using the recording studio at my house, but I’m having it extended once we get this album wrapped. We have decided to set up our own label when our contract expires next year, and we’re going to use my house as the base. We have an architect drawing up plans to remodel it so it’s fit for purpose.
“Out in the treehouse,” Vivien says, sniffling. She’s standing at the window, staring out at the garden with her back to me.
I slide up behind her, circling my arms around her swollen belly. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” She has had some emotional moments recently, and I know she’s remembering Lainey and worrying everything will be okay. I’m trying my best to assure her, but I know she won’t fully relax until she’s holding our beautiful little girl in her arms.
“Nothing,” she says, almost choking on a sob. She whirls around in my arms, smiling at me through blurry eyes. “These are happy tears,” she adds, seeing my concern.
“Are you sure?” I kiss her softly.
“Bodhi called me Mommy Vivien.” More tears fall down her cheeks. “It was the most amazing feeling in the world. I’m so happy.”
“He loves you, Hollywood. Just like we all do.” I press another sweet kiss to her lips, which is hugely at odds with how I’ve been devouring her mouth lately. Pregnant Vivien is horny as fuck, and we’re going at it like rabbits any chance we can get. I have sex on the brain permanently, and I couldn’t be more in love with my wife, or my life, if I tried.
“I love him so much,” she says. “I can’t believe I was ever worried that I wouldn’t. He’s the missing piece we didn’t realize we needed.”
“And our daughter will be the cherry on top.” I tilt her gorgeous face up, staring at her in awe, amazed that with every passing day I love her more and more. “Thank you for making my world complete, Vivien. Thank you for letting me love you.”
Epilogue
VIVIEN - NOW
The after-party is in full swing at the plush five-star hotel the label rented for the occasion, and the room is packed with well-wishers, family and friends, and industry heads. I’m proud of our movie even if it was painful to sit in the theater knowing everyone was dissecting some of the most heartbreaking and intimate moments of our lives.
But it feels cathartic too. Everyone knows the truth now. The good, the bad, and the ugly, and they can decide what they want to do with that themselves.
“For the woman of the hour,” Ash says, materializing at my side, offering me a glass of champagne.
I shake my head and hold up a hand. “I’m abstaining. That glass I had earlier went straight to my head. That’s what I get for hardly eating all week.”
“I need to live vicariously through someone,” she pouts, running a hand over her growing belly. “Hurry up and get here, little monster, so your mummy can have an alcoholic drink!”
I smile at my sister-in-law because I know she’s joking. Ash adores being pregnant, and she is positively glowing. It took them some time to conceive, but her pregnancy has been smooth sailing so far. They are both very excited, and I’m thrilled for them. I can’t wait to meet my new niece or nephew.
“I’m happy to help,” Audrey cuts in. She drains the dregs of her current glass of champagne, sets it down on the high table behind us, and plucks the fresh glass from Ash’s hand.