Mafia Arranged Marriage

Epilogue

Two Years Later

"How did you do?" My new friend Stacy asks over the phone. I just got the notification a few seconds ago that the final grade of my hardest course this year was posted. Naturally, Stacy got one as well and we always call each other when grades get posted because if we can't cry and grovel to each other about them, simultaneously bitching about the cruel-hearted villainous professors that we have at NYU, we're not uni besties.

I stare mouth-gaped at the screen of my laptop on the bed, while blinking my eyes to make sure I'm not imagining the numbers in front of me.

"I got an 87!!" I yell over to her, her response comes out immediately "I got an 84, bitch we passed this!" She screams and we fall into a fit of giggles. Now don't get me wrong, usually we aim for higher grades, closer to the upper tenth percentile, but I kid you not, Mr. Burks -our respectful professor- has had it out for us since the beginning of the semester. His personal vendetta against us is no joke, it's like he thinks we murdered someone important to him and needs to make us pay for it.

Alas, we finally passed this course, meaning we don't have to see his wrinkly face every Wednesday at 9 a.m. woo-hoo.

"I'm so glad we're done with this. I'll see you next week" I say to her as I hear a door clicking. I look up from the bed and into the door to find my handsome husband leaning on the doorframe in a hot -as in fictional men who are written by women do- way. The sight causes my chest to bloom, releasing butterflies towards my stomach and my pulse elsewhere strengthens.

Amren and I had a difficult phase two years ago, when everything went down about father's evil plan to take over and the revealing of the identity of my mom's killer being my dutiful husband. Let's say I was a bit cold and desolate after I found out. I mean, as understanding and forgiving someone can be, it doesn't happen automatically; it's not a switch you can turn on and off anytime you want.

Thus, it took a long while afterwards of building mutual trust and containing in order to come over this. But in the end we did. Now I know there's nothing that can break us apart.

"How are you back already?" I question him curiously, "And where's the food I wanted?" I add and he raises his hand to show the paper bag. My mouth transformed from a pout because of the food-mood into a million dollar worthy grin. That's just food for you.

I gesture for him to pass the food over using my grabby hands outstretch. He steps nearer until reaching the foot of the bed "Not unless you tell me your grade for that final you did three weeks ago" He bargains and I raise my eyebrows, taken aback by his audacity to keep my food away from me, the only thing that'll be taken away was his freedom if he does not hand over the paper bag.

"What? No! Why do I need to do that? Give my food" I signal for the food and start rising from my spot in order to grab it from him, but he realizes my maneuver and snatches it away from my grip.

"Ren! Please please give me my food" I make dog-eyes at him, knowing that'll do the trick; it works wonders every time. He starts softening until his eyes narrow and he shakes his head "No no..this test kept you from me for a week straight when all you did was study and I felt all alone in bed with my d-" before he finishes his sentence and embarrasses me more, "It's an 87" I blurt out.

His eyes soften immediately and fill with warmth. He lays the food bag on the nightstand momentarily, but before I can reach it, I'm engulfed in a gigantic tight hug, warm as a cardigan in winter storm. "I'm so proud of you Yana. I love how my wife is such an intelligent girl, chasing her degree". He assures and the butterflies in my stomach go crazy.

"You forgot to mention that I'm chasing that degree meanwhile being in my second trimester" I remind him, causing him to broaden his smile, his hand casually moving to rub my five-month pregnant belly. Oops, I guess I forgot to mention that the reason I got him to bring me a cheeseburger at nine p.m in the evening -even though dinner was merely two hours ago, with leftovers saved in the fridge- was due to my craving.

The cravings are getting out of hand. My first three months I couldn't stomach anything down and lost a couple pounds. But that soon changed when I entered my forth month. I eat anything and everything nowadays, that being said with weird cravings hitting me either super early, like before dawn, or late at night.

Ren, being the amazing husband he is, never once refused to bring me what I desired. He doesn't even complain when I nudge him awake in the middle of his sleep sometimes and ask for the weirdest combos of food. On the contrary, he always rushes out of bed, like a surfer on the beach waiting to catch the next wave, and is driven by this need to "satiate me before the urge expires" as he likes to put it.

I lean into his touch, standing on my tippy toes to reach him, kissing him as a thank you. He doesn't complain, oh he loves it when I initiate intimacy. His hands move to my sides as he squeezes lightly, I moan into his mouth, resulting to lengthen the mind-shattering kiss. Soon I find myself on the bed, but the contact between our bodies gone, and instead the food lies on my lap "We can finish that after you eat, I know if it gets cold you wouldn't want to eat it anymore and will force me to the store again" He confesses chuckling, me laughing along at the accuracy of it.

"I love how you know me so well" I chide before ripping the paper open.

"I love you, moody and all".

"And I, love you".

THE END

Final (I do mean final) author's note:
This story is officially over. Huge thanks for everyone here. Follow me and read other stories on my profile. Love you all.