Dark Side - Sequel to Asylum » AI // au

-Epilogue-

*7 years later*

"Mommy! Mommy! There's something wrong with daddy!!" I turn around on the kitchen seat to see my 4 year old daughter, Brooklyn, running into the kitchen with a scared look on her face.

"What happened, Brookie?" I ask her.

"I don't know," she starts crying, "I went up to ask if he would take me to go swimming. When I walked in his room I saw him throw the phone down and he kicked something. I got scared so I ran out!"

She wraps her arms around my legs and I caress her hair. "It's ok, darling. I'll go talk to him. Stay out here and watch some tv ok?"

She nods her head, "can I say hi to my brother first?"

I smile, "of course you can."

She giggles and puts her hand on my swollen belly. "I can feel him kicking!!!" She squeals.

I was 9 months pregnant with me and Ashton's second child. I was bound to pop any day now. Brooklyn loved to feel him kick and it made her giggle every time.

About a year after Luke and Diamond got married, Ashton and I got married. It was just a small wedding with our friends and Ashton's family. Michael ended up walking me down the isle and it turned out to be a perfect wedding. We honeymooned in the Bahamas for 2 weeks.

2 years after our wedding I got pregnant with Brooklyn. We had been trying for a while and I had one miscarriage before. It was tough for us but the doctor said to keep trying. So we did and eventually I ended up pregnant again. It was truly a gift was God.

After I gave birth we moved into a house in the suburbs. It was a nice quaint place where we wanted our kids to grow up. And it was a ways away from Ashton's father.

When Brooklyn was born he tried coming around but Anne wouldn't let him. She didn't want him around and neither did Ashton and me. He was a toxic person who didn't need to be around my child.

Brooklyn stays downstairs as I make my way up the steps to see what's wrong with Ashton. I waddle up the steps and down the hall. I knock on the door, "come in."

I open the door and he's sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. He looks up at me when I enter and his eyes are teary. I sit next to him and rub his back. I've learned over these 7 years to just be quiet and let him talk when he wants to.

We sit in silence for about 5 minutes until he speaks up, "my dad called again."

"Again? I didn't know he had been calling," I ask.

"Yeah. He knows you're pregnant. He's demanding to see Brooklyn and the new baby."

"Did you tell him he wasn't allowed to see them?"

"Yes," he states, "but he said he was going to anyways. He said we can't keep him out of the hospital and he will figure out when you give birth and he'll be there."

"Ashton you're 30 years old he can't force himself on you and our family!" I raise my voice, angry with his idiotic father.

"I know! I don't know what to do. He can't be fucking stopped," he stands up and paces around the room running his fingers through his hair.