The Thistles of Rose

Epilogue

Three years later (for real this time)

Leaning down slightly, I place the two orange juice cartons on the play table, careful not to disturb Aurelia in the process. She doesn't like it when she's disturbed. She gets very irritated.

"Thank you, Mama," she says, not straying her concentrated gaze from the paper she's scribbling on.

She doesn't seem like a normal kid who just got told off for getting in trouble in preschool today. That's because I didn't tell her off. I couldn't find it in me to.

I glance down at my little precious girl. Her brown hair has been braided by her father into one long braid. She wears a black t-shirt with her pale pink shorts. She picked the outfit out herself this morning.

I see that she's drawing a picture of our family, with the red crayon clutched in her hand as she draws on my hair.

I place my hand on the small shoulder of the little boy sitting across from her. "Archer, honey. If you need anything, you let Aunt Rose know, okay?"

The cute boy peers up at me from his drawing with his big, brown eyes and nods, with a shy smile. It strikes me how familiar he looks.

Grabbing my mug, I make my way to Luca who's sitting in the conversation pit on the other side of the room. He's manspreading a lot and has the Macbook resting on his lap, fixated on it. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, as he rubs his jaw in distress and my stomach flutters with butterflies.

"I can't get over how much he looks just like Marco," I tell him.

"Told you we didn't need to waste money on a DNA test," he says in a strained voice, glancing over his shoulder at the kid and then up at me.

Luca pats the spot next to him and I sit down in it, resting my head on his shoulder. Immediately, his hand sneaks up my skirt and latches onto my thigh as he rubs circles on it. This is his tell that he's stressed out about something — mainly work-related.

"What's that smell?" He asks, glimpsing into my mug.

"Peppermint tea," I reply, blowing on the steam and then taking a sip. The minty, hot liquid travels down my throat and is a remedy.

His response is a face of disgust.

My hands warm from the steaming mug of peppermint tea snuggled in my lap. I'm cautious as to where Luca's hand is so he doesn't accidentally knock it over. Luca sits next to me, his brows furrowed as he reads something on the laptop. I feel like such typical parents.

"Motherfucker," he curses under his breath after a raw inhale through his teeth.

It's definitely something to do with work. I decide to stay out of this stuff unless he asks for my help, which happens frequently.

As my head rests on his hard yet comforting bicep and his warm hand draws sparking circles on my bare skin, a wave of drowsiness hits me. He's so comfortable.

However, just as I'm about to drift off, Marco strides into the room, noisily, and jumps down onto the couch, groaning, "It's been a week and she's still not speaking to me."

The drowsiness gets pushed to the back of my mind and I sip the tea to help drown it out even more. When I sit up, I look over to see Marco sprawled out on the couch with his phone in the air.

I yawn, tiredly, but don't miss the striking pair of grey eyes that flick at me.

"Because it was so unexpected. Your one-night stand from four years ago knocks on our door and dumps your mystery son with us. Of course, Raina will be angry about it," I defend her.