The Imperfect Truth of Diamond Hearts {Kellin Quinn Sequel}

Epilogue - Diamond Hearts

    A wheelchair is not exactly what you want to be forced to sit in and wheeled around in all over the place.  You don’t want your husband to have to help you go to the bathroom because you can’t be alone at any moment and you certainly wouldn’t want to be doted on like an invalid at any point you went into public.  However, I guess that’s a better price to pay than being stuck in a coma because then you can go home.  I had wanted to be home for so long and now that I was here, I figured I could deal with all the extraneous details of being an invalid for a little while longer.  Being around my kids and near my husband were far more important than feeling sorry for myself because I was stuck in a wheelchair for a few weeks. 

    Right now I was settled on the back porch watching the kids throw handfuls of fallen leaves at one another while they squealed and ran.  I wanted to join them, but the short strands of hair covering my head reminded me of the fact that I was recovering from a traumatic brain injury.  I played with the scarf that covered the fair strands of copper hair slowly beginning to cover the intense scar on my scalp; they were getting thicker by the day and Kellin said he thought I would have ear length locks by the end of the year.  My hair grew so leisurely though and it was frustrating to have to wait to look normal again.  I covered my head with the scarf partially because I was embarrassed by my baldness and part because I didn’t realize how freaking cold your head got without hair this time of year.  I smiled softly to myself, touching the baby soft hair just beneath the material.

    Most of the time, though, I just went bald baby head to the store, but when you went places looking like this, people stared and asked questions.  Some of them were nice and liked the scar, saying it was a battle wound while others…well others weren’t so kind.  I smiled as I thought about the little girl who had pointed at me and asked me what had happened.  She was so concerned that she wouldn’t leave me be in the department store until I explained how I got the wound; then she’d asked me if she could kiss my ‘booboo’ to make it better.  It was the cutest damn thing I had ever had happen to me.

    “Baaaaby!” Kellin murmured in my ear as his arms wrapped around my shoulders.  I glanced at him and kissed his cheek, still shocked when I met his hairless skull.  His hair was coming in a little faster than mine, the dark patch on his head thickening daily, but it was nonetheless disconcerting to see him with a forehead and ears.  It was the sweetest thing he could have ever done for me though.

    “What’s up sweetheart?” I asked, “My bald babe.”  He chuckled and ran a hand over his own peach fuzz.

    “I think our kids are insane.”  He pointed at our children as Kiera suddenly charged at Hunter, throwing him into a pile of leaves at the foot of one of the oak trees.  I laughed aloud and rolled my eyes, listening to the kids kicking and screaming.  At ten years old, I thought the sibling rivalry would have ended a little bit by now but no, the two of them would probably be fighting like this when Kellin and I were old and decrepit. 

    “Yeah, I’d say so.”  He chuckled in my ear, the sound sultry and alluring before he took a deep breath.

    “I’m so glad you’re home,” he uttered, his voice so tender that it nearly broke my heart that he could be so happy about me being here.  I reached around to kiss him, meeting our mouths for a moment before we herd a chorus of ‘ewwws’ go up from over in the yard.

    I laughed.

    “Keep it up guys and I’ll make sure there’s a reason for you to say ew!” Kellin called, smile on his mouth delightful and carefree.  The kids giggled and took off for the treehouse.  I was shocked they hadn’t broken one another in half yet, but I guess being twins made them closer somehow even if they were the opposite sex.  Yeah they had their friends, but in more ways than one I saw Hunter and Kiera stick up for one another more often than their own friends did.