LOVE'S QUAGMIRE [18+]

Epilogue

7 Years Later-

Daphne's POV~

5:00 AM. The sun hasn't even bothered to make an appearance yet, and here I am, wide awake, staring at the ceiling.

 I glance beside me at Cyrus, the lucky jerk, snoozing away with his arm flung over the pillow like he's in a commercial for the best sleep of his life. He gets an off day today, which means he gets to lay there all cozy. Lucky him.

I groggily drag myself out of bed, feeling like a zombie who's barely getting enough coffee in my veins. My eyes barely open as I shuffle to the bathroom to freshen up. 

A quick splash of water on my face, and I'm already thinking about the field trip. The boys are pumped about it, but that's because they know exactly what they want for their lunch. Special demands. 

I'm headed downstairs, still half-asleep, when I remember why it's all so crazy. It all started with that one fateful day when I set up a food stall at their school. A parents' competition, where everyone had to contribute something homemade. 

And of course, I made cupcakes and sandwiches—recipes by mom, just simple things I thought the kids would love—and boom, next thing I know, Felix, Alex, and all their classmates were begging for my food. 

Now, every time there's a field trip or special event, the kids won't settle for anything less than a full-on menu prepared by yours truly. 

As I stand in the kitchen, I breathe a sigh of relief. Thank God I prepped the base ingredients last night while they were asleep—otherwise, I'd be digging through empty containers, wondering where all the bread disappeared. It's one of those mornings where the kids could eat a whole grocery store in five minutes if I turned my back. So, I got smart and did the prep work late last night while the house was finally quiet for once.

Now, all I have to do is pull everything together—assemble sandwiches, arrange fruit, prepare frosting for cupcakes. 

I didn't realize how much time had passed while I was assembling everything in the kitchen. I glance at the clock, and there it is—7:30 AM. 

Oh, Lord. How did it get this late already?

Before I can even start packing everything into the lunch bags, I hear the unmistakable sounds of mayhem coming from upstairs. 

Shouting. Doors slamming. Footsteps pounding down the stairs. 

And here we go again. 

Felix and Alex, in all their glory, are already at it. I brace myself, holding my head in my hands as the noise intensifies.

"No, that's mine!" Felix yells from upstairs.

"No way, it's mine!" Alex fires back. 

I can hear the sounds of running feet, and then—crash. One of them has definitely knocked something over. 

Before I could go to look, they burst into the kitchen both wearing their pajamas like they've been through a tornado—Felix in a Batman onesie with one sleeve half hanging off, and Alex in Spiderman pants that are twisted so badly I'm pretty sure they're on backward.

Felix comes in first, clutching an action figure like it's his lifeline. 

"Mom, look! This is 'mine'. Tell Alex!" he demands, holding it up in my face like it's a trophy.

Alex is hot on his heels, a look of pure betrayal on his face. "No! It's mine! I was playing with it first!" he says, reaching out to grab it, but Felix quickly pulls it away.