Everytime |18+ ✔︎

[26] ᴛʜᴇ ғɪɴᴀʟᴇ | ʙᴄ ɪɪɪ

ERIC'S POV
FIFTEEN YEARS LATER

I HEAR LAUGHTER echoing in the hallway, heavy footsteps running up the stairs and ruckus outside in my backyard.

I leave my study to see what all the commotion is about. I walk past my children's bedrooms and swiftly go downstairs to the kitchen to see my wife. Her hair was in a messy bun, she was preoccupied with decorating cupcakes.

I walk up behind her; I kiss her neck and wrap my arms around her waist. "Morning, Mi Amore." I whisper into her ear and she chuckles.

"Morning, Husband," she coos.

"What's all the noise outside?" I ask, looking through the kitchen window to see our kids playing with each other.

Liliana turns to face me, her eyebrows furrowed, "You forgot what today is?" she crosses her arms at me.

"One of the kids' birthday, obviously." I say, trying not to sound like I'm guessing and avoiding eye contact with her.

"Which one?" she narrows her eyes at me.

"Florence's birthday," I say automatically. Florence is our daughter and the oldest-she has my green eyes but her mother's toned complexion and beauty. We have two children, Florence and Xavier. My daughter is eight today and Xavier will be six in a few months. Xavier is the mini version of me but has his mother's beautiful russet eyes.

"You're walking on thin ice, Calloway." My wife huffs and continues to decorate the cupcakes. I nip her ear and she yelps.

"I love it when you talk to me like that-the bossy tone should be used in the bedroom." I say before kissing her cheek and running off to the back yard.

"PAPA!" Xavier yells, running to me along with Florence. I run over to my kids and they tackle me down on the grass. Xavier jumps onto my stomach and Florence stands by my head, she then sits down and puts daises in my hair.

"Flo, you know Mama doesn't like it when you take the flowers from Grandma's garden." I scold her softly, not wanting to make my kid cry on her birthday. It was weird that my mother had a garden in our house instead of her own, but I know it is an excuse to visit her grandkids whenever she pleases.

"I know, Papa but they look prettier in your hair," my daughter gives me a sweet smile before she runs off to play with her doll. I shake my son to wake up so that we can play a game but Xavier denies politely and goes off to his sister to play cops and robbers with her.

I look at my kids playing and think how much has changed over the years. I think back to the time when I asked Liliana to marry me.

"Do we really need to be here this late in the night?" Liliana asks, holding my hand tightly as we walk on the bridge to the Eiffel Tower.

I planned this for years on how and where to ask her. I had got all of our family and friends to Paris during the weekend to see the proposal and help out.

"I wanted to do that lock thing with you," I say to her, and her eyes lit up with joy at the mention of one of the most romantic things to do in Paris.

The bridge that we are currently walking on was filled with different types of locks in different colors. I purchased a heart shaped lock that was pale yellow and a black marker. We walked over to the middle of the bridge; I took out the lock and marker from my coat and hand it over to Liliana. She writes her name and mine and wrote Everytime on the bottom.