Ghosted (completed)

Epilogue

"Ophie!" Dad shouted from inside the house. "You got everything?"

I tore my eyes from my dad in the doorway to the list in my hand, and finally to the packed trunk and backseat of Axel's Jaguar.

"Yeah, Dad!"

I watched him flash me a thumbs up before he shut the door gently behind me and jogged down the driveway to meet me. I immediately stepped up on to the curb and fell into his expectant arms, gasping for air the minute they crushed me against him.

"I can't believe you're already leaving." he said as he pulled away. "My little girl moving three hours away into her own apartment. What happened?"

I shook my head and averted my gaze to Axel leaning over the top of the car, watching with a sad look as my father tried to compose himself.

"You behave yourself, alright? No late nights, no partying, no—" his eyes flickered to Axel as he stopped abruptly, and he very loudly vocalized, "No grandchildren."

Axel took that as his cue to duck into the car to warm it up. I mentally cursed him and kept a mental reminder to smack him upside the head for leaving me to face the fire that was my father and his helicoptering on my own.

"I'm serious, Ophelia." he continued despite my groaning. "I'm too young to be a grandfather. You're too young to be a mother."

"I get it, Dad." I grumbled, embarrassed. "No sex without protection."

I could just picture the smug smirk on Axel's face as he eavesdropped from the car.

"I love you. I'll be up in a couple weeks to see the place, alright?"

I leaned in and hugged him again, "I love you too, Dad."

He kissed my forehead, and just before he headed back for the house, he leaned through the open passenger side window and threatened, "If you hurt her, I will hunt you down myself."

Axel chuckled and his beautiful eyes flickered from my father to me. "With all due respect, Mr. Coleman, I don't think Ophelia is who you should worry about getting hurt."

My father, confused by the words, only gripped the car door tightly as he held it open for me. He made sure I was in securely before shutting it and staring at Axel over my head.

"Take care of my little girl."

Axel's smile faltered slightly and he nodded, "I will."

Dad looked as if there was more he wanted to say, but ultimately decided to squeeze my hand and step up on to the curb before he could get cold feet about the entire thing and try to plead for me not to leave again. I waited until he was no more than a speck in the side mirror to relax against my seat and squeeze my eyes shut.

"Fai." Axel's voice filled the quiet car. "Are you good? If you're getting cold feet—"

"No, no, it's fine." I insisted. "If I don't leave now, I never will. He'll be okay."

*

A year later and I still couldn't find it in me to accept the reality of the fact that I was really with Axel St. James. As I watched him unpack the little kitchenware from behind the island, I tried to wrap my head around the fact. There was a part of me that knew very well if Oliver hadn't passed away that I wouldn't be here right now, basking in the unconditional love his brother had offered me in every way he could the last year. But there was a part, however minute it was in comparison, that was positive I would have ended up here at some point. I was a true believer in things happening for a reason, and given that Oliver had died protecting me, I had no doubt that I would have been part of the St. James brothers' lives in one way or another.

It was a little after eight and a long day of unpacking in the small apartment that Axel finally threw the towel in for the night and headed for the bathroom in our room.

"You can join me." he joked suggestively, eying me from the hall. I waved him off, not in the mood. He kissed me quickly before he disappeared into the darkness of our bedroom and left me to sit on the old sofa from his last apartment. I lowered myself down and was starting to rest my head when I heard a very quiet chuckle.

Scared, I jerked forward, and my eyes shot down the hall. When I didn't see Axel and heard the shower, I started to brace myself for a ghost. Which I was faced with, but my shoulders fell back when I spotted Oliver lounged across the two cushions beside me with his arms folded behind his head.

"You ever gonna tell him?" Oliver questioned.

I offered him as menacing of a glare as I could. "Eventually."

"Eventually?" he echoed. "Come on, Ophelia. He's my brother. He deserves to know I'm still around. You two can't get rid of me that easily."

"Clearly." I grumbled, flopping back against the couch.

He shifted so his head was beside mine and asked, "Why haven't you told him?"

"The wound is still too fresh." I confessed what I'd been avoiding answering for the last six months since Oliver had made a reappearance and decided he wanted to spend the rest of my life tormenting me. "If I tell him, he'll retreat to that depressive shell he was in for months. I'll tell him one day, but for now I'm okay keeping it from him."

"I get it." he said softly. "Thank you for sticking around when he kept pushing you away."

I didn't hesitate to answer. "Of course. He needed a friend, a shoulder. I wasn't going to just leave. I know what it feels like to be surrounded by people but feel alone."

"Well, at least you won't ever be alone again." He retorted obnoxiously optimistically. "You're stuck with me for the rest of your life, baby."

I rolled my eyes but nudged my shoe against his and smiled. "Unfortunately."

"Pfft, you love me." he said without any doubt. "Almost as much as you love my brother."

I snorted. "Eh, I'm contemplating leaving both of you idiots right now."

"Lies." Oliver said with a wink. "You won't ever leave."

I'd never heard such a truer statement in my life.