Loving Lakyn | ✓

Epilogue

L O V I N G
L A K Y N

AFTER AN INCREDIBLY long day at work, I was more than thankful to be leaving. I used to think that designing clothing would be simple—well, not that simple—but now that I am one of the most well-known designers in the UK, it has become more difficult. Every line of clothing that I release must be even better than the one before that. But I am doing something that I love, so the sore feet, the constant headaches, and lack of sleep are all more than worth it.

I hauled my binder and handbag into the car, then closing the door. It was absolutely freezing at this time of year.

The drive home was short, each and every house that I passed covered in distracting Christmas lights, but they were beautiful, nonetheless. Our house practically looks like a poster for all things Christmas after my children were finished with it.

The drive home was short and sweet considering that I work in central London but reside in Fulham. Fifteen minutes passed and I pulled up alongside the street where my house was. Beaming at the vibrant glimmering lights, I closed the door of my Range Rover. It was big and white, but after starting a family, I realized very quickly that my G-Wagon was not large enough.

Toying with my keychain, I walked up the few steps leading up to my front door and then twisted the doorknob. As soon as I stepped foot inside, I sighed I relief. The heat was on and I felt my limbs practically defrost as I placed my keys on the hook near the door.

I slipped my heels off, wincing as my toes touched the cold, wooden floor. I really need to get this house carpeted.

The sound of nails scuffing against the ground sounded and I was met with Grey, our two-year-old Dalmatian. He was the sweetest boy with one blue eye and one brown, black spots everywhere. He reminds me of Marley, a lot. I wish dogs lived forever because even after fifteen years, I still miss Marley so much.

"Hey, boy." I gave him a big welcome as I petted him for a long minute.

I slipped my faux fur jacket off, hanging it on the back of the door, before walking up the hall and entering the living room where I expected to be greeted by my family and whilst the television displayed The Grinch which was on at an awfully loud volume, no one was actually watching it.

I grabbed the remote from the expensive cloud couch, switching the television off before walking through the dining room and into the large kitchen.

I came to a halt as I took in the absolute mess before me. Flour covered the entire surface of the marbled kitchen island, some sort of dough dangling from the crystal chandelier, and the sink was completely filled with dishes.

"What on earth—" I was cut off as my little girl walked up to me with a plate of sugar cookies, each one covered in rather green or red frosting, then snowflake sprinkles were on top of each one. "God, would you like some cookie with those sprinkles?"

Mercy giggled. "Daddy said that you love sprinkles." she put emphasis on her words, shoving the plate closer to me.

Wanting nothing but to complain about the mess, I resisted. It is Christmas eve; I will let her make a mess. Just this once.

"I do." I agreed, taking the plate from her grasp. "Thank you, sweetie."

Mercy grinned, her big, bunny teeth showing as she brushed her dirty blonde hair out of her blue eyes. "It's okay!" she piped as I placed the plate down on the countertop. "I missed you."

As she wrapped her arms around me, I smiled. She makes the mess completely worth it. Having a child really is a whole different form of love. I have never experienced such an intense emotion until having her and her siblings.