Epilogue
Daisy
Two years later
“Shut the fu…” I slapped my hand over my mouth, looking over to see Tristan’s shoulders shaking.
“Please be quiet,” I said, rephrasing with a syrupy sweet voice and glaring at him.
We were at the kitchen table, and our one-year old daughter, Lily, was busy chasing cereal around on her high chair tray. Tristan had just informed me we needed more diapers because he’d apparently forgotten to get them from the store yesterday.
I was irate about this because, well, just because. Life was busy. Crazy busy. Tristan was still playing for the Seattle Stars. After he’d predicted he might only play another year or two after his knee injury, he was stronger than ever. At thirty-four years old, he definitely had more years of play in him now. The Stars had reg
