EPILOGUE

The sidewalks were remarkably clear for mid December in New York City. Darkened drifts were shiny as the day's melt froze like icing on the slumped mounds. Martin was glad the center walkway was mostly dry; he was also glad to be rid of the cane he'd been using until the numerous cuts on the bottom of his feet were no longer tender. As he walked alongside Samantha – wearing hard soled shoes for the first time in awhile - he could still feel the tug of fresh scar tissue on his abdomen. The distraction was easy enough to ignore.

Sam pushed a sturdy pram and leaned forward to adjust the blanket that swaddled her son. "Stop it, Finn," she ordered in a sing-song voice. "Can't you just leave the blanket alone?" The request resulted in a playful squeal and mostly toothless smile.

"Some scolding that is," Martin chuckled. "You're just inviting him to play, talking like that."

Samantha straightened and snorted. "Like you would know, Mr. Bachelor."

"That's Uncle Bachelor to you, young lady," he chided. Raising one eyebrow, he leaned in and wiggled a finger at the chortling Finn. "And you, young man, are taking advantage of your mother."

Samantha's relaxed laugh warmed Martin and he reached over and took her hand.

"Hey," she protested. "I can't drive this thing with one hand."

It was true. In fact, she didn't do a very good job with two hands, either, Martin quickly pointed out. He ended up with an elbow in his side and thankful for his layers of winter clothing. He laughed and held his hands up in surrender. Samantha pursed her lips and returned both hands to the stroller and Martin opted to wrap an arm around her shoulders instead. By the way she sighed and rested her head on his shoulder for a moment, he knew it was acceptable.

"So Brian's all moved into his place?" Martin asked as the walked.

"Yup." She glanced at him. "Honestly? I think I'm gonna miss the adult company."

"Really?" Martin said. "Will, I think that can be taken care of. When's he picking up Finn on Saturday for their first play date weekend?" Martin asked as they walked.

Samantha chuckled. "'Play date'. Funny. He's coming by around nine. Why?"

Martin gave her a sidelong look that sparkled with amusement. "You're awfully nosy."

"Comes with the job. You know that. So? Why?"

Martin smiled broadly and slowly shook his head. "You'll just have to wait and see," he teased.

When they rounded the corner, Martin had to press against Samantha to allow a jogger to pass. There was more foot traffic here, along with a small cluster of people that huffed into their hands and stomped their feet waiting at the bus stop. Martin guided her around the obstacles while Samantha playfully scolded Finn and again fixed the rumpled blanket. Halfway down the block, they stopped.

"Meet you here in an hour?" Samantha asked, turning to face Martin and standing well within his personal zone. He circled her waist with his arms. "Or in the bookstore over there?" She nodded across the street, wrapping her arms loosely around his neck.

"Bookstore," Martin replied just before he kissed her nose. "No need to stand out in the cold, especially since the little guy isn't being very cooperative about staying covered up." He smiled and leaned around Samantha, ticking the baby's feet as he spoke.

Finn laughed and kicked. The blanket flew off.

"Well, you're a big help," Samantha grumbled unconvincingly, and then her voice turned soft and serious. She sought out his eyes and caught his gaze. "You okay? It's been awhile."

"I'm fine. I need this." He captured a kiss. "And that."

She held up a finger between their faces. "One hour."

After a moment, she circled is neck again and instigated another kiss. Martin intended it to be a quick peck, but the warmth and taste of her lips made him groan and close his eyes. He pressed harder and tried to draw her against his chest to deepen the kiss, but she gave just a little, teasing him, before abruptly pushing back.

"Keep that up and you're going to be late." Her voice was soft and husky, and her cheeks flushed.

Martin reluctantly released her. "Yeah," he said, glancing at the doorway behind him with a sigh. "I've been gone too long already." He stepped back and let his arm trail across her waist and along her outstretched arm, pausing to keep their fingertips joined seconds longer.

The smile she gave him was all the encouragement he needed. "I'll be here," she said quietly.

"I know," he acknowledged.

They parted and Martin watched her cross the street. When she was safely on the other side, she briefly turned and waved at him. He waved back and grinned when Samantha's attention refocused on the wayward blanket one more time before disappearing into the bookstore.

Martin turned and pushed open the door, standing aside and nodding an acknowledgement to a departing man. Once inside, he walked quickly down the hallway and slipped through a set of double doors at the other end. The people inside the room were just being called to order and Martin slipped into a seat in the front row.

He caught the eye of the man behind the podium and received a welcoming grin. After the man called the room to order, he motioned for Martin to come forward.

It had been a while. Too long, Martin admitted to himself as he stepped behind the podium and swallowed hard to settle the flutter in his stomach. He looked out to the group, cleared his throat, and spoke with the confidence that came with walking a welcomed new path.

"My name is Martin and I'm an addict," he began.

For the first time in a long time, everything felt right and his path was very clear.