Steve Roger is down on his luck-broke college student working for peanuts bartending just to stay alive; no matter what he does, life keeps knocking him down and taking him. One night, a woman (Amelia Brandon) walks into the bar; with milk chocolate...
I can't believe this is it; this is the last chapter of Edge of Seventeen. Thank you all so much for your comments, likes, and support. I truly appreciate you all so much!
I hope you enjoyed this fic as much as I have enjoyed writing it!
Happy Reading!
-Sif
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Seven years later...
Steve slowly drifted awake, his mind gradually coming back online. His eyes remained closed as he yawned and stretched, his bones crackling satisfyingly with the movement. He reached out sleepily to Amelia's side of the bed, but the sheets were cool to the touch. He sighed, remembering Amelia was on a work trip. He hadn't slept next to his wife in five very long days, and he missed her deeply.
The soft creak of the bedroom door opening barely registered in his sleepy haze. The next thing he knew, semi-quiet feet thundered across the floor, and before he could process what was happening, the bed dipped on both his left and right sides.
"Daddy! Daddy!" Charlotte and Avery's excited voices filled the room as they jumped onto the bed, their small bodies landing on him with a joyful bounce.
Steve's eyes flew open, and he couldn't help but smile at the sight of his kids, their faces beaming with excitement. Their dark chocolate hair was tousled from sleep, but their blue eyes, the same shade as their daddy's, sparkled in the morning light.
"Good morning, you two," he said, his voice still thick with sleep. He reached out to poke the girls in their little bellies, eliciting a squeal of laughter from them.
"Daddy, it's time to wake up!" Charlotte announced happily, bouncing on her knees.
"Yeah! We want pancakes, Daddy!" Avery added, hugging him tightly.
Steve chuckled, pulling his twin three-year-old daughters into a warm embrace. "But what if Daddy isn't ready to get up?" he teased, rubbing his beard on the girls' little necks, tickling them.
"Daddy!" they squealed, trying to squirm away, which was easy since they outnumbered their father.
Steve laughed, finally sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "Alright, alright, you win. Let's go make some pancakes."
Charlotte and Avery cheered, scrambling off the bed with the boundless energy only children could muster. Steve followed them, feeling a deep sense of contentment. This was what life was all about—moments like these with the people he loved most. As he watched his daughters race each other to the kitchen, he couldn't help but smile. Steve would be forever grateful to have the opportunity to be not only a stepfather but also a father to his beautiful twin-baby girls.
Steve and Amelia were married a year after he proposed, in a small, elegant beach wedding in Costa Rica. The setting was perfect: the sun setting over the ocean, the gentle sound of waves in the background, and their closest family and friends gathered to celebrate their love. Steve had just started working for a local architectural firm, much to Tony's dismay. The billionaire had offered to fire Ryan Anderson and give the department over to Steve. Tony liked the idea of Ryan knowing exactly who would be replacing him, but Steve had politely declined, preferring to earn his position on his own merits.
