Mind Code (Coded Connections Duet #2)

Epilogue

FIVE YEARS AND EIGHT MONTHS LATER

Amelia

The wind rustles softly through the tall grass, carrying the scent of wildflowers on its gentle breeze, and sunlight filters through the leaves, casting playful shadows that dance across my arms as I chew on a Twizzlers.

It’s one of those perfect days.

There are a lot of them lately.

We’re in the meadow just twenty minutes from the house we bought—a peaceful retreat away from the bustle of Seattle. The house is more like two and a half homes combined into one. The largest section is ours, complete with a spacious shared bedroom for all of us, featuring a massive bed. Each of us also has our own room, a personal space for our belongings and clothes, and a quiet place to retreat or work.

But we also have a big home office where we can all work together, an amazing kitchen where Grey is constantly experimenting with new recipes for us, and a music room with a beautiful Steinway piano the guys gifted me for my last birthday. It even has an engraving on the front.

Ivor E. Key the Second.

I absolutely love playing on it.

Playing for them.

In the center of our connected homes is a cozy, accessible section just for Grandpa. Despite still not having full use of his left arm, he recovered well, is in good shape for his eighty-seven years, and is enjoying a slower, more peaceful pace of life. Morgan is still with us as well, taking care of him, but she’s now living in the final section of the house.

With Hendricks and Willow.

After we left Elysium, it took us months to figure out our game plan—to decide exactly what we wanted our company to be and what values we wanted to uphold.

We only knew one thing for certain.

It’s about technology that’s meant to help, not to take.

Once we had our vision clear, we launched our company with purpose and precision, making our presence known in the industry. Despite the time it took to get everything right—eight months spent living at Grandpa’s—we ended up revolutionizing the market and turning ourselves into billionaires. All the while, Elysium tried to sue us, but with Grandpa’s knowledge and connections in the legal community, they didn’t stand a chance.

As our company grew, so did our family. When we began involving Hendricks more in our plans and hired him as head of operations, he and Willow naturally became closer to us. It was during this time that Morgan developed a crush on Hendricks—something that might have gone unnoticed if it weren’t for Willow’s matchmaking talents. She made sure they spent plenty of time together, and before long, Hendricks was just as smitten.

Now, they’re part of our family in more ways than one, and I couldn’t be happier for them.

The house is nestled close to Misha’s favorite hiking trails, offering us a close connection to nature while still being conveniently near the city for those rare days we decide to go to the office.

Which, to be honest, isn’t all that often.

One of the perks of being the bosses is the freedom to work from home, where we can focus on projects and innovations without distractions. Hendricks handles the day-to-day operations at the company, always having our backs.

Tetra Technology —that’s the name the guys chose for us.

Tetra, for the fish that started the path that ended my loneliness.

Tetra, as in four , represents the four of us.

A team.

Our little stolen aquatic friends have become an integral part of the company, thriving in an enormous aquarium at the center of our office since Morgan didn’t want them at the house.

The aquarium is a space filled with everything a tetra could ever want—lush plants, vibrant corals, and plenty of room to explore. From time to time, we even buy— not steal —new tetras to join them, keeping the tank lively and reminding us of where we started.

It’s a living pillar to our story.

Today marks the five-year anniversary of Tetra Technology , and what better way to celebrate than by taking the day off to simply enjoy each other’s company?

The sun is warm on my skin, the sky is a perfect blue, and the birds are singing in the trees. It’s the kind of day that makes everything feel right in the world.

Grey is playing with Doctor, our new Bernese Mountain Dog puppy, who’s bounding around with endless energy. I snicker as I watch Grey try to catch and leash him. Doctor is all floppy paws and enthusiasm, darting just out of Grey’s reach every time he thinks he’s got him.

Next to me on the blanket, Peanut is lying contentedly beside Oliver, who’s absorbed in writing in his notebook. Peanut is an old boy now, his muzzle graying and his movements slower, but his eyes still light up when he watches Doctor play. Sometimes, the puppy’s energy is a bit much for him, but he loves his little buddy and keeps a watchful eye on him.

Misha is lying on his stomach on my other side, casually flipping through a tech magazine, completely oblivious to the fact that I’ve been plucking daisies from the edge of the blanket and weaving them into his curls. His head is now a riot of white and yellow blossoms, the flowers standing out vividly against his dark hair.

He’s so relaxed, so content.

We all love our new home out here, but for Misha, it’s like he’s found a deeper peace. Since moving here, his insomnia has almost vanished. He’s able to sleep next to us every night, curled against me, and the dark circles that once lingered under his eyes have faded. On the rare nights when sleep still eludes him, he either channels that energy into work or takes me to a certain twenty-four-seven burger joint for milkshakes and fries.

Being closer to the trails means our hiking trips can start later, allowing us to catch the sunrise without losing too much sleep. It’s a small change, but one that’s made a world of difference for Misha.

Still, we have never missed a sunrise we wanted to see. Even on those mornings when Oliver and Grey join us—Oliver with enthusiasm, though a bit clumsy on the rocky paths, and Grey with his grumpiness that only fades when the first rays of sunlight break the horizon—we always end up in awe.

By the time the sun is fully up, we’re all cheering and dancing with Misha on the mountaintop.

Ba doo doo ba !

And thanks to all the hikes I’ve taken over the years with Misha, I’m finally able to keep up with him.

Almost.

I laugh quietly to myself when I realize there’s no more space for another daisy. Misha, sensing my amusement, turns to look up at me with a smile. “What are you up to, Bug?” he asks teasingly.

I feign innocence, holding back a grin. “Nothing.”

But then he notices the daisy still in my hand and reaches up, feeling the flowers woven through his hair. Smirking, he moves quickly, grabbing me and pulling me down onto my back beside him. He hovers over me, stealing the daisy from my grasp with a playful glint in his eye.

“You little minx.” He snickers before tucking the flower behind my ear. “There,” he says, his eyes sparkling as he admires his handiwork. “Perfect.”

His gaze is soft, filled with warmth as he leans in to kiss me, a sweet brush of lips that makes my heart flutter.

After almost six years, they still give me butterflies.

“How’s the weather inside you today?” Misha murmurs, his hand on my shoulder and his thumb brushing over my collarbone.

I smile at him, bright and full, reaching up to stroke his cheek. “It’s a never-ending sunrise.”

“ You’re my never-ending sunrise,” he murmurs before leaning in to kiss me deeply, his lips lingering on mine as he holds my throat gently, probably feeling how much my heart is racing.

When Misha breaks the kiss, he returns to his magazine, flipping the pages with a contented smile. I turn my attention to Oliver, who’s sitting cross-legged with his notebook balanced on his knee, scribbling away.

We took creative writing lessons together a while back, and ever since, he’s made it a habit to write me even more letters.

Love letters.

Sometimes once a month, sometimes even weekly, depending on our schedules and whatever’s going on in our lives. Each one is a treasure, and I’ve bought a beautiful chest to store them in my room. I love reading through them from time to time. They feel like a journal of our relationship, a diary of our journey and the depth of our feelings for each other.

It’s my favorite thing.

As for me, I’ve mostly used my creative writing lessons to craft digital sticky notes that pop up around the house when triggered by specific actions or locations. The last one was, It needs more cheese, I love you, which appeared when Grey was putting lasagna into the oven. It made him jump and spill some ricotta on the floor, and I almost laughed my head off.

The AR technology I’ve developed has advanced so much over the last few years and combined with the guys’ AI expertise—and Jamie’s brilliance—we’ve created something truly powerful. It’s the vision I’ve always had in mind, a dream I once only dared to imagine.

The current version of Jamie, coupled with my lensless AR, is a groundbreaking product that will lead the market. Once again, we’re poised to revolutionize the industry.

Everyone knows our name, and we’re determined to stay at the forefront.

I glance at Oliver’s socks peeking out of his sneakers—a blue pair adorned with bright yellow rubber ducks—and can’t help but smirk. We have this tradition called Silly Sock Sunday , where Misha, Grey, Grandpa, Morgan, Willow, and even Hendricks join in, and we all wear goofy socks while having brunch together .

But Oliver and I wear our silly socks every day. It’s become such a thing that everyone gifts us socks for birthdays and Christmas, and I love it, even if it’s getting harder to find unique pairs.

Finding ones for Oliver’s birthday is always a challenge, especially since he tends to decide at the last minute when he wants his birthday to be.

Last year, I had this idea to dress us up as the cast of Twilight for Halloween, but Grey flat-out refused to play Edward Cullen and put glitter on his face. I pouted, of course, but Oliver saved the day by declaring that Halloween was his birthday and that his birthday wish was for us to dress up as I’d planned.

I loved him even more for it.

Misha was Jacob, and Oliver dressed up as Carlisle, whispering to me with a mischievous grin that he always thought Bella had a thing for the father of her boyfriend.

Let’s just say I found glitter in places where it doesn’t belong for days after that.

“What are you writing over there?” I ask Oliver, trying to sneak a peek at his notebook. He pulls it away with a playful grin, holding it above his head and squinting his eyes at me teasingly.

“You’ll read it soon enough,” he says, smirking.

I put on my best puppy dog eyes and lean in closer. “But I wanna know now.”

He sets the notebook down and kisses the tip of my nose. “Same old, same old. Talking about how you’re my favorite person, how living with you is my favorite life, and how kissing you…” he leans in to press his lips to mine, “… is my favorite thing to do.”

“Doesn’t it get boring after all this time?” I whisper against his lips, a smile playing at the corners of my mouth.

“There are a thousand ways to describe how something becomes my favorite,” he murmurs, pecking my lips again. “And why it’s my favorite out of all the other options out there. Loving you will never get old, my Fave.”

“I love you, too,” I reply, kissing him once more before leaning against him and closing my eyes, soaking up the warmth of the sun while my hand reaches over him to absently stroke Peanut’s fur.

After a few peaceful moments, Grey joins us, having finally managed to leash Doctor, who comes barreling up and nearly plops right into my lap. Right now, it’s still almost possible for him to fit, but soon, he’ll be as big as Peanut, and I can only hope he’ll realize he is, in fact, not a lap dog.

“What do you guys think? Want to head home? All this chasing around has made me hungry,” Grey says, smiling down at me as he pulls Doctor off and extends a hand to help me up.

I smile back and take his hand, letting him pull me to my feet. Oliver and Misha stand as well, gathering up the blanket and our things while I clip Peanut’s leash onto his collar. Grey keeps a firm grip on Doctor’s leash, trying to prevent him from dragging us home while Peanut ambles along at a leisurely pace beside me.

I glance up at Grey, who’s already looking at me with a warm smile. “You ready for next week?” he asks, his eyes searching mine.

Next week, August and his family are coming to visit. I hadn’t heard from him in almost three years before he finally reached out, and we started to rebuild our relationship. It took him some time to figure out how to steer the law firm in a better direction, but he did it—even with our father’s reluctant blessing, though August said he doesn’t share all the details with him. Apparently, he and Abigail did make up, and she and the girls will be visiting, too, and I’m genuinely excited to see them.

“Ready as can be, but definitely excited,” I tell Grey, and he squeezes my hand reassuringly.

I haven’t heard from my parents since everything happened. I didn’t reach out to them, and they never tried to contact me—not a single call, letter, or message. Not even through August.

But that’s okay.

It’s more than okay.

It’s good.

Maybe closure isn’t what I thought it was. Maybe I don’t need to revisit every detail or rehash the past one more time. I don’t need to seek healing from the people who hurt me.

Maybe what I truly need is to honor my own feelings—to be the one who stands firm in the knowledge that the situation no longer serves me and its time has passed. Perhaps closure comes from trusting what I already know to be true.

If someone’s absence brings you peace, you absolutely did not lose anything.

But even though I’m good now, more than good, I feel a little vindicated.

I hope my success offends the shit out of them.

Not only am I good enough, I’m more than enough.

It’s a lesson I learned from therapy. It helped me work through my family issues and coping mechanisms. I’m feeling so much better and grounded.

Enough.

Talking to Grey during our many puppy walks helped a lot too. He also has a therapist now and seems to have finally found his own sense of closure with his parents. They send the occasional card and call every now and then— suspiciously, it all started once our success went public and the accolades began pouring in. At first, I was worried about how Grey would handle their obvious two-faced attempts to reconnect, but he’s taken it all in stride. He’s polite but distant, keeping them at arm’s length, just as they did with him his whole life.

I’m so proud of him, words don’t even do it justice.

We’ve built our own family, and after visiting Misha’s family two years ago and seeing firsthand what he meant by they’re a little much , I’m even more grateful for the way ours is. Misha’s family is amazing but big—his four siblings all have at least two kids each.

Having this small, close-knit family of ours, packed with meaning and filled with our favorite people—it’s all I ever wanted.

More than I ever wanted.

Approaching the house, Grey glances over at me and asks, “What do you want me to cook for dinner tonight? Something special?”

Grandpa and Morgan are sitting on the garden porch, soaking in the beautiful late afternoon.

“How about we order something instead?” I suggest, not wanting to make him spend two hours in the kitchen today.

I want them all to be as close as possible, which is my way of celebrating our life together.

“Pizza!” Misha shouts from behind us, making me snicker.

Of course.

“Who eats pizza for an anniversary?” Oliver mutters, but I hear the smile in his voice.

“People with taste,” Misha fires back.

Well, facts.

When we reach the fence of our expansive garden, we step through and unleash the dogs. Doctor immediately bolts toward Morgan while Peanut takes his time, leisurely making his way to Grandpa.

“How was the meadow?” Morgan asks with a smile as we come to stand beside them.

“Amazing, as always,” I reply, returning her smile. “But the garden looks just as beautiful. You guys did an incredible job with the flowers.”

Morgan beams with pride. “I just planted them. Grandpa decided which ones would look best together. When one set of flowers stops blooming, the next batch starts right on time.”

I glance at Grandpa, who strokes his mustache with his right hand. “Everything has its time,” he says, his eyes twinkling.

“It does,” I agree with a grin.

“And it’s almost time for dinner,” Misha chimes in. “You guys good with pizza?”

“Oh yeah, that sounds perfect.” Morgan beams. “Let me text Rob. He’s finishing up work in a few minutes, and he can pick up the pizza on his way home. That way, we won’t have to wait for delivery.”

“Amazing. Just get the usual, please,” Oliver says with a smile.

A moment later, Morgan’s phone buzzes, and she reads out, “Sounds like it’ll take about an hour. He has to drop Willow off somewhere first. Do you still want him to bring it, or should we order instead?”

“No, let him bring it,” Grey says with a mischievous grin. “We can find something to do for an hour.”

“I don’t want to know.” Morgan puts up a finger at him. “Just let me keep the puppies, and I’m happy.”

I stick my tongue out at her, and she returns the gesture, making us both giggle as the guys and I head inside .

“So, what are we doing for the next hour?” Misha murmurs in my ear when I come to a stand inside.

“Well, I’m going to change into something more comfortable, and you still have flowers stuck all over your hair,” I tease with a grin. He grabs the flower from my ear and twirls it in between his fingers.

“Sounds like we all should lose our clothes,” Grey murmurs.

I turn and find all three of them giving me that familiar, hungry look. Without another word, I sprint up the stairs, laughing as Jamie’s voice chimes in through the speakers.

“Hello, Amelia.”

“Hey, Jamie. I’m a little busy right now,” I reply, panting as I run, the sound of the others chasing close behind.

“I’m detecting an elevated heart rate. Are you all right?” Jamie asks, sounding concerned.

“Oh, I’m more than all right, but thanks for asking,” I pant out as I reach our shared bedroom, dashing for the attached bathroom. “Jamie?”