Epilogue - Part One

Late February - 2018

APOV

"Ocean Front... Permafrost… Breezy Blue… What do you think, Christian? Christian. CHRISTIAN!"

My incredibly handsome, dreamy husband now looks incredibly... glazed-over. He snaps his attention back to the array of paint colors in front of us. Back to the fifty shades of blue. "Huh? Those all look good, baby. They're all light blue. Isn't that what we came here for? Light blue paint?"

"Yes, but they're all different. This one has more green, this one more gray… They set different tones for the room. See?"

He doesn't see. "I thought we hired a decorator for this. Tell me again why we're shopping for paint?"

I put my hands on my hips and push my belly out to emphasize why we're here. "Because we're six weeks away from having this baby. And the paint color in his nursery could affect his whole life. It needs to be stimulating, but restful… fun, but peaceful. It's important for his brain development and his sense of well-being -" Oh God… I'm getting emotional here. Just breathe, Ana.

"So you're saying that having too much gray tone in the paint could affect his development." Now he's smirking at me.

"I'm nesting, okay? Fuck off and go find a can of primer," I snap. So maybe I went a little over the top on the paint thing. It's entirely possible that I had a tiny hormonal overload here in the paint aisle at Home Depot, but he doesn't need to know that.

I work my way around the display, grabbing a few more paint chips - maybe Caribbean Blue is the answer… ooh, or Carefree Sky. Carefree is a good thing, right? It's open up his little mind and -

I stop short because suddenly I am face-to-face with Olive. No. No I'm not. I'm belly-to-belly with her - our rounded waistlines practically touching. Her hair is longer - pulled back into a ponytail, with just few tendrils framing her face. Natalie.

Her green eyes widen as she recognizes me, and I can see her trying to line up the 'high school' Ana with the 'now' Ana.."Ana? Ana Steele?!" she squeals. "What a surprise… and look at you… all grown up! Are you living around here now?" Her face is open and friendly, and she's ready to chat and have a little catch-up.

Oh. My. God.

She doesn't know. She has no clue about me and Christian. With all of her meddling and judging, Olive has not said a word to her. I start to frantically send my husband subliminal messages. Stay in the primer aisle… Stay there… Stay.

"Um yeah… for the last nine months or so? Over on the east side of the lake?" Stay, Christian… Stay.

Her brow furrows and she leans in, lowering her voice as if letting me in on a secret. "You know, Christian and I aren't together anymore. I'm re-married."

You don't say. "Oh. Wow, and so... you're - um - expecting too? Congratulations," I manage to squeak out. Stay… stay.

"Yes… eight weeks to go. We're having a little girl. Small world, huh?"

Ohh you have no idea… and it's getting smaller by the second. I manage to smile and say, "Six weeks… um, a boy," before I feel that familiar tingle up my back. And I know he's right behind me. He didn't get my messages!

Natalie's eyes move from my face up to his and the surprised look is back. "Christian! What are you -"

Say we don't know each other… it's just the three of us here by random chance… Wow, what a coincidence! I feel him move closer into me, curl his body protectively around mine, and put one hand at my waist.

"You're… you two… you're together?" She gasps, trying to comprehend what she's seeing.

"Um, it's a long story -" I begin to say, but Christian cuts me off.

"Whatever you're thinking, Natalie, it's in the past now. We've both moved on and we're both happy… We're getting what we both wanted so badly, even if it wasn't in the way that we expected."

I watch her face carefully as she chooses her next words. Honestly, she has every right to be pissed. To call us out and cause a scene right here among the paint chips and the orange-aproned employees. She wavers on the precipice of wanting justice and revenge for several moments, but I see her body deflate with acceptance.

She reaches up and swipes a tear from the corner of her eye, and I do the same. I know… hormones. I feel you, girl! She sighs and says with a little giggle, "I am happy… even if Henry didn't come with me to pick out paint chips for the nursery."

Henry? Oh, I like that name… but I quickly file it away as one of the names not to use for future children.

Christian begins to trace little circles with his fingers at my sides and says, "Oh but the paint color is so important… I always say that setting the right tone is so crucial for early development."

I smirk at his musings, as if he didn't just storm off in frustration to the primer aisle!

"But really, Natalie, congratulations to you and Henry… When Olive told me, I was so surprised… it really made me question my fertility until -" He looks down pointedly at me.

She cocks her head in thought again, and then says, "Olive didn't tell you that she was an egg donor for me? It turns out that mine are… questionable."

Oh my God… she really was trying to break us up. Olive is back on my shit list.

"No," he growls, and I know he's thinking the same.

After an awkward exchange of goodbyes, we all part ways, leaving the decision between Icy Shores and Tropical Splash for another day.

=/=/=/=

Three weeks later…

CPOV

I peer out of my office window, taking note of the darkening skies. This is the first day of a new track season, and of course we're blessed with this lovely mid-March weather. I pace around my office for a few minutes, fighting the urge to intervene. Ana has been determined to kick off this new season, her first as a coach, in these few remaining weeks before our son arrives. And no amount of arguing, or I admit - whining - from me was going to convince her to step aside early and let the assistant coach take over.

So, I doubted that some dark clouds were going to make her willingly miss a precious day of practice. Finally, hearing the wind starting to pick up, I can't take it anymore. I grab my rain jacket and head out to the track.

At first, I can't distinguish her from the group of teenage athletes gathered alongside a short series of three hurdles. But then one of them with tight black leggings and a long, chestnut ponytail turns sideways and - there she is. More precisely, there they are - my wife and son. And the shiver that runs through me has nothing to do with the rapidly dropping temperature.

In spite of my frustration that she's still out here - about to get rained on - I feel that warm tingle of pride and love that surges through me every time I see her, especially after a long day apart.

Even though we work in the same building, and everyone knows we're married and obviously - doing it - we've been extremely careful to keep our affections out of the workplace. We had to endure a very uncomfortable disciplinary session with a red-faced Cal, who had come to find out why the shed door was open that day in November. Let's just say that we were lucky to come out of it with our jobs. And that we've all agreed to - literally - shut the door on it.

As I approach the group by the track, I can see their expressions and body language more clearly. My wife is gesturing madly, passionately trying to explain the importance of forward momentum over the hurdles. And the girls look - bored, unimpressed, even defiant. I know that they are used to being left to their own devices, used to doing things their own way.

I know that Ana can feel me approach from behind her, that she can feel a tingle up her back before I even touch her. I place my hands on her shoulders and greet the girls, who have turned their attention - and their glares - to me. "Ladies," I greet them. "Good afternoon. And how is the first day of practice going?"

The blonde in the center of their cluster - Caroline? No, Caitlyn - is obviously the leader. She's accustomed to running things and getting her way. She reminds me of Ana's friend, Kate, when she flips her braid over her her shoulder and huffs, "We're just trying to run our drills before the rain hits."

I tighten my grip on my wife's shoulders. "Did you know that Coach Grey here was one of the top hurdlers in the country? That she ran for UO? That she was scouted by the Olympic Committee?"

Caitlyn's eyes narrow as she considers this. She doesn't have the nerve to say it out loud, but her body language screams disbelief and says, 'no way.' The half-dozen or so girls surrounding her shift nervously, wavering in their decision to stick by their leader.

"Come," I say, and recognize too late that I've used my Dominant voice, the pitch and tone of it lower and sharper. It does have the desired effect, however, as they all fall in line and follow me off the track. I call out to the rest of the groups to bring it in, that practice is finished for the day, as fat raindrops begin to land all around us.

I lead the small group - Ana and the seven hurdlers - inside and to my office, where I fire up my computer and search for the file I want. As it loads, I gesture for them to gather around in front of the monitor. And then, there she is on the screen… my girl. It's part of a training video released by the NCAA, and this is a clip of one of Ana's races during her last season at UO. She was number one in the nation, being followed by everyone, the Olympic Committee included. Her face is intent and focused, staring down the line as she takes her position.

The starting pistol fires, and they're off… Ana in her UO green taking and holding the early lead. She flies over each hurdle, her body a textbook example of speed, power, and efficiency. After she surges across the finish line in first place, I tear my eyes away from the screen and look over at Caitlyn. Her defiant expression has been replaced by a look of shocked awe. I grin and look over at Ana, expecting to see her grinning back at me.

But she's not smiling. She's still staring at the screen, her expression wistful with a bit of... sadness? Regret?

I know that she's happy, that she's content with her life. She wants to be my wife, Teddy's mother, a teacher and coach. But what about her dreams? She's helping me reach mine, making my life come full circle.

And right then I resolve to do the same for her. And the seed of an idea takes root.

A/N: Thank you for your patience! I needed to take a step back, let the characters in this story talk to me again. Hoping to have Part Two - the final update - up next week!