Epilogue
In the end, despite Will’s heroic arrival with the balloons at the museum, he wasn’t unfired.
But I stood so proudly beside him that night, hand in hand.
No museum gossip could touch us because we only had eyes for each other.
I barely heard any of the congrats on finding the missing exhibit in the roar of the party, the bass of the dance music that followed the media event, the laughter of guests filling the museum.
What happens after a sultry night together when we returned home late after the opening is more of the same over the next week as I finish my last week at the museum.
My frantic blitz of resumés in the last two weeks of my internship paid off.
In the end, I land a coveted job at the V&A, and I get to stay on in London as a curatorial assistant on a fixed-term contract.
It’s a permanent enough job for now, at least a year, and long enough to get my legs under me properly in the city and get more career experience.
More than that, it gives me a chance with Will, staying on in London, and to find out what it’s really like to have an official boyfriend.
On a sunny day late in September, Will helps me move my things from Russ’s north London flat to his.
Will’s been volunteering a couple of days a week up in Cambridge with Gray at the gallery while he applies for museum work in London with a reference from Lily for his work over the summer.
Meanwhile, he’s opening up more about his drawing, and Gray’s encouraging him too, from keeping a regular sketchbook to learning how to hang and document artwork.
Will’s terrific at sketching, and he’d be an amazing artist, I know it.
Today, Will’s off early from the gallery to help me move in.
Watching Will unload my things feels totally surreal. He’s stunning in the autumn sunlight and breeze, his sleeves pushed up to reveal toned forearms as he rolls a suitcase into the entry. I’m on his heels with a pair of totes.
And a couple of small suitcases later, I have all my worldly goods inside.
“I travel light,” I quip. Stephen’s going to ship the rest of my things from Canada, which are in boxes back home, but I don’t have much.
Will shuts the door, leaning against it. His smile is warm, almost shy. He puts his hand in his pocket to retrieve a set of keys on a fuzzy pom-pom key chain. “For you.”
“For me?” I automatically reach out my hand.
He drops the pink fluff with attached keys in my hand. The pom-pom tickles my fingers. It takes me a long moment to realize I have keys to the flat. And the spare set of keys to his Rover.
“You can come and go as you want,” Will tells me softly. “Whenever you want.”
I gulp. “Oh my God…”
It means everything, his trust in me. And to have a place to call home with Will. To belong with the man I love. Like the way I believe in him. Together, it feels like we can do anything. Now, we’re excited to get to know each other even more, all in. We’re ready to start exploring a life together.
I put my arms around him to kiss Will leisurely as he melts against my mouth, pulling me close in his arms. Because now, we do have all the time we could want, and more.