Epilogue
EZRA
SIX MONTHS LATER
Nervous energy prickled at my skin—and it wasn’t because T’s Sweets was finally opening its door in two days after months of being elbow-deep in construction.
“Ezra, you wonderful asshole,” Josie shrieked through the screen, tears streaming down her cheeks.
She mumbled something in Italian to someone off-camera before she started moving.
I heard a door click shut before she focused her attention back to her phone screen.
“I’m in the middle of a shoot! You could have given a girl a warning. ”
I chuckled, her reaction immediately lifting the boulder that had been weighing on me. That was exactly why I’d called her. Well, that and the fact that Josie would have never forgiven me if I hadn’t told her beforehand.
“You know your sister uses my phone all the time,” I deadpanned with a grin. “If she saw I texted you before calling, she’d know something was up.”
“Whatever,” she muttered, rolling her eyes as she dabbed her cheeks with a tissue. “Now shut up and show me. I want to see the goods.”
I obliged, flipping the camera to reveal the ring—an emerald cut moss agate gemstone set in the center of a dainty gold band, delicate leaves carved into it.
I’d finally received it last week after Jude stormed into L’Infinité and all but demanded the delivery to be expedited, fed up with seeing my impatience to finally spend the rest of my life with my favorite person in the world.
If it had been anyone else, the owners probably would have cussed at him, but they’d fallen in love with Jude from the moment they’d met him after he’d agreed to partner with the Parisian family-owned jewelry company for their official launch.
I’d originally planned to keep the proposal a secret, but not telling anyone had proven much harder than I’d anticipated.
So, during one of our weekly video chats—chats Jude had insisted we have after I’d told him I was moving back to Boston six months ago (because, according to him, I owed him that much after “abandoning him in Paris”)—I’d blurted it out.
I’d instantly regretted it. Vega was notoriously terrible at keeping secrets or even worse at lying. But to my surprise, he’d been incredibly helpful in making sure the jeweler captured my vision since I couldn’t fly to Paris without raising suspicions from my girlfriend.
Girlfriend. I still couldn’t believe I got to call Talya mine and soon, she’d be my wife.
But I’d always known I’d spend the rest of my life with her.
It had just been a matter of her catching on.
Well, as I’d learned six months ago, she’d always thought so too.
I’d just been too much of an idiot to confess how I felt about her.
My gaze drifted to the corkboard next to my desk, where a handful of polaroids were pinned.
One showed Talya during our first official date at the Harvest Festival.
She’d been laser-focused on picking the perfect apples for a recipe I’d been testing, and the moment had been so perfectly her, I had to immortalize it.
Another photo was from Christmas last year, the people we loved the most around us, our eyes stuck to each other.
My mother had taken it without us knowing and gifted it to me later that night.
It had been the first time we’d been us around our families and despite how nerve-wracking it had felt, everyone had been more relieved that it was finally happening.
At first, I’d carried a lot of shame and regret for all the time Talya and I lost dancing around each other, too afraid to take the leap. But the unforgettable week we’d spent together after that night at Mystique had dulled it until it eventually went away.
I had the rest of our lives to look forward to and we’d make the most of it.
“Ezra,” Josie said, sniffling. “It’s so beautiful. She’s going to love it.”
“Really?”
Choosing to spend the rest of my life with Talya had been the easiest decision I’d ever made, but I’d been so nervous about picking wrong that I’d driven myself crazy. Which was ridiculous, considering I could propose to my girl with a paper ring, and she’d be just as happy.
But I wanted it to be special.
Just as special as loving Talya made me feel every day.
“Yes,” she replied, meeting my gaze. Her features softened when she saw the worry etched on my face. “Not that she’ll be paying much attention to it when you propose,” Josie teased, a beaming smile breaking across her face. “She’s been dreaming of marrying you since she was a little girl.”
Warmth spread across my chest at her words. I’d had the same dream.
“Ezra, baby?”
My eyes widened at the sound of Talya’s voice echoing inside the empty shop. She’d insisted on planning a pre-celebration with our friends and family before the grand opening Monday, but she was here early.
“Merde, shit, Josie, I have to go,” I muttered under my breath, quickly tucking the ring back into the bottom drawer of my desk where I’d been hiding it. It was the only place I knew Talya wouldn’t accidentally stumble upon it.
“You better call me after—”
“Yes, yes, we will,” I rushed out as Talya’s footsteps grew louder, ending the call.
My panic instantly melted away the second my girl’s face appeared in the doorframe of my office, replaced by a different sort of heart race. A familiar flutter in my chest that always appeared when I saw her.
Talya’s hair flowed past her shoulder in messy waves and she wore that pretty black dress she’d gotten at a thrift shop a few weeks ago.
One I’d already peeled off her this morning when she’d tried it on.
“Hi, beautiful,” I greeted her as she made her way over to me. I leaned back in my chair, pivoting toward her.
“Hello to you too, handsome,” she replied, taking a seat in my lap.
I wrapped my arms around her waist while hers looped around my neck, and I pulled her down for a short kiss. “You’re here early,” I said casually, trying not to sound suspicious after she’d nearly caught me on the phone with her sister.
Talya shrugged. “I wanted the chef all to myself before everyone else stole you away.”
“You’ll always have my attention,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to her jaw.
Every day that I woke up next to her, I marveled at how lucky I was.
That fate had landed me here, with my best friend and the woman of my dreams in my arms. I couldn’t wait to hold onto her, to this life we were creating, for the rest of forever.
She shook her head with a laugh. “You’re too smooth for your own good.”
“Only for you.”
I kissed her again, this time with more passion. Her nails dug into the back of my head and one of my hands slid beneath her dress to grip the soft skin of her thigh.
“How much time do we have before the others show up?” I asked, my breath catching as she shifted, parting her knees to give me better access.
She looked at the clock above the door. “Ten minutes?”
“Perfect,” I groaned when my fingers brushed against her underwear, finding her just as eager as I was. “I suppose I can work with that.”
Talya
I woke up to the warm, buttery scent of fresh croissants drifting through the house. Which was one of my favorite perks of dating a chef. Fresh pastries and desserts readily available were truly the best even though it only made my sweet tooth worse.
But I wasn’t complaining.
Blinking my eyes open, I stretched lazily, my fingers finding Ezra’s side of the bed empty.
Considering it was already 11:00 a.m. on a Sunday, it wasn’t surprising.
While he didn’t technically work on Sundays, he still woke up at the crack of dawn to bake.
I didn’t get it because you’d never catch me up that early, but he seemed to enjoy it.
And there was something impossibly sexy about a man who not only was passionate about his hobby, but also cooked for you.
Slipping out of bed, I grabbed the white button-down shirt I’d ripped off him last night after the dinner I’d organized to celebrate the opening of T’s Sweets tomorrow and shrugged it on.
My heart still fluttered at the memory. He’d kept the name of his shop a secret from everyone during the renovations and had finally revealed it last night in front of all our friends and family.
I didn’t think it was possible to love him more, only for him to name his lifelong dream after me.
With a ridiculous grin on my face, I clipped my hair back with a claw clip and padded down the stairs of my house—well, our house.
It hadn’t taken long after we started dating for Ezra to move in despite the fact that he had just signed a one-year lease on a shiny new apartment downtown.
I’d suggested we wait despite the move being my idea, but he’d shut it down quickly.
Instead, he’d bribed his would-be landlord with a lifetime supply of pastries from his new shop in exchange for breaking his lease.
The next day, Ezra had packed his things and made himself at home here.
For some, it might have seemed too fast, but I’d known Ezra my whole life and didn’t want to wait. Six months later, I still woke up every morning with butterflies in my stomach and stars in my eyes.
I was so in love with him and the life we were sharing that sometimes even I made myself sick.
Shuffling toward the kitchen, I found Etta James playing softly through the speakers while Ezra kneaded dough, lost in his own little baking world.
He was barefoot, wearing a fitted black T-shirt that stretched over his broad shoulders and those tiny running shorts that made his ass look even more delicious than the rest of him.
I stood there for a moment, admiring the way his muscles flexed with each movement, reminding myself that he was all mine. Sometimes I had to pinch myself to make sure this wasn’t another dream.
“It should be illegal how you make kneading dough look like porn.”
Startled, he looked over his shoulder. His furrowed brows softened the instant he saw me, and the smile he gave me shot straight to my heart. “If it leads to being inside you, I’ll act out anything you want,” he replied, slapping the dough.
I burst out laughing, my cheeks flushed as I walked over and wrapped an arm around his waist. “I’ll shelve that for later,” I said, grinning up at him.
“Morning.”
“Morning, my love.” He dropped a kiss to the top of my head.
I started to head behind the island to let him work—and admire the view too—but he stopped me immediately, effortlessly lifting me onto the counter beside him.
“Ezra, your shirt,” I scolded, brushing off the flour he’d just gotten all over it.
He only shrugged and kissed my forehead. “That’s what washing machines are for. And I didn’t hear you complaining when I spread you over the kitchen counter last week when you interrupted me in the middle of making danishes.”
I gasped and smacked his shoulder. “That’s unfair. You were half-naked and breathing heavily while whipping the strawberries.”
My body flushed at the memory of his hands all over me, chocolate and strawberry coulis being licked off places it probably shouldn’t have been.
Ezra smirked, swiftly finishing his dough before storing it away with practiced ease.
“Anything you want to do today?” he asked, fitting himself between my legs. His fingers skimmed my thighs as he planted his hands on either side of me.
Sundays were ours. It was the one day of the week when we both forgot about the world and our responsibilities to spend the entire day together without any distractions.
I lopped my arms around his shoulders and gave him a small shrug. “I can think of a few things.”
“God, woman. You’re ravenous.” His teasing faltered into a hitched breath when I leaned in, stopping just a whisper from his lips.
I grinned, dragging my mouth across his. “You love it.”
“I love you.”
I rolled my eyes, though my cheeks ached from smiling. “I love you, too, silly.”
His eyes softened. “I have something for you.”
I tilted my head, anticipation buzzing through me. “Oh yeah?” Ezra always planned some sort of date for our Sundays and he found a way to surprise me each time.
He shifted, digging something from his pocket. I craned my neck to peek over his shoulder. I tried to spy what he had in his fist, but he’d closed it in his palm.
His eyes met mine again, and I spotted a flicker of nervousness there. I was about to ask him what was wrong, but he spoke first.
“I’ve been wracking my brain, trying to figure out the perfect time.
But with everything that’s happened with us, I’ve learned that waiting feels like a waste of time when you’ve known all along who you were meant to spend the rest of your life with.
And I want the rest of my life to start as soon as possible. ”
My eyes widened. People always said they had an inkling when they’d be proposed to and sure, I’d expected for it to happen one day. But not right now.
Ezra stepped back and dropped to one knee. He loosened his hand, but my eyes were too focused on his precious nervous face to notice whatever was in his hand.
“Shut up,” I whispered, stunned.
“Talya Morrone, will you—”
“Shut. Up,” I blurted, louder this time.
“Taly, for the love of God, will you let me finish?” Ezra said through bouts of nervous laughter.
I pressed my lips together, trying to hold myself together long enough to let him ask.
“Marry—”
“Yes!” I shouted, jumping off the counter before he could finish. He caught me before I injured myself, his arms wrapping tightly around me as he landed on his back with me on top of him.
I straddled him and smashed my lips to his. “Yes, yes, yes.” I punctuated each word with a kiss, something wet streaking my cheeks.
His body shook with soft laughter. “You’re insane.”
I sat up, palms pressed to his chest, thighs bracketing his hip.
When I met Ezra’s gaze, there was an expression there I’d never seen before.
I’d known him for over twenty years and had spent so many years studying him.
From the tilt of his smile to the crease of his forehead when he was deep in thought.
I’d memorized every look he thought no one noticed.
This one wasn’t just the happiness I’d seen radiate off him ever since I’d agreed to be his six months ago.
It was the look of someone who’d finally been given everything they’d hoped for.
The look of someone finally coming home.
“I’m so happy I get to love you forever,” he whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
“And I can’t wait to choose you, choose us, in every lifetime.”
Thank you so much for reading Maybe This Time! If you enjoyed this book, I would be grateful if you could leave a review on the platform(s) of your choice.
One review can make all the difference !
Love, Seraya x