Maybe, There is a Happy Ending

Epilogue

Kamri's POV:

When teenagers watch their parents express their love to one another, or, when they catch their parents getting a little heated on the kitchen counter, they scrunch up their noses in disgust and fake gag. Teenagers can't stand the sight of their parents this giddy.

I am quite the opposite. When I hear my parents murmur 'I love you'to each other, I can't help but awe. My reaction is the same when I walk downstairs and into the living room, seeing them cuddled up together on the love seat, watching a movie they used to watch together in their teenage years.

I am not saying their relationship is perfect, they have their arguments every now and then. Most of those arguments being about my three brothers and me. But, instead of them blaming themselves for the argument, they sit down and talk it out.

My parents' relationship, their love and honesty to one another, is exactly what I yearn for. I live for a relationship like that. I wish to marry a guy who shows me love and adoration for as long as we live.

Just like how my dad is with my mum.

The only down side is, I only want that relationship with this one boy, this boy who doesn't feel the same way. This boy only sees me as another little sister, he keeps reminding me of that.

I try my hardest to let go of my feelings for him, reminding myself that I deserve better than him. But, that's the problem. I don't deserve anyone better, because I deserve him. He ticks all of my boxes. He is sweet, loving, caring, funny, gorgeous, honest and loyal. I have known that all of my life.

Another thing is, my parents adore him. Only because they are really close friends with his parents, have been since they were very little. My mother didn't meet them until she was sixteen, though, considering she lived in New York beforehand with her abusive parents.

It must have broken my mother's heart when I kept questioning about my grandparents. When I was little and still now, I spend a lot of time with my Nan Marie and Pa Jordan. I was a confused four-year-old girl, wanting to know where my mum's parents were.

It wasn't until I turned thirteen, I was told the truth about them. I was told they were broken when they lost mum's twin in a car accident. They blamed my mum for it, although she wasn't behind the wheel.

Because of that pain in their hearts, because they lost their child, they turned violent towards mum.

I was devastated. I couldn't believe my mum went through such traumatic events in her life, and I had no idea. I understand why she kept it from me, though. If she told me at an earlier age, I wouldn't have understood.

The boy I am in love with, was the first person I called. Over the phone, I told him all about my parents and their past. I told him about my other grandparents, the ones on my mum's side. He listened to me and only asked questions when he needed some clarification.

That night, I admitted my feelings to myself. I realised that how I felt for him fell deeper than just a friendship. I didn't just love him as a brother, or a friend, I loved him as a boyfriend and as a husband.

I was really scared about how I felt. Heck, I was only thirteen. I remember the next morning, I went running to my mum and told her about it. I just wanted to tell mum alone, because I knew my dad would just get overprotective. I should have known that my mum would just go ahead and tell him, anyway.

Ever since then, my parents have been encouraging about it. Every time we were meeting up with them, my mum would tell me pieces of advice. My dad doesn't say much, because every time see says something stupid, he would get a piercing glare from his wife. Really, all my dad says is to be careful and that I will always be his little girl.