Epilogue
“ Write with me,” I said suddenly as Jack and I walked to the café hand in hand that weekend.
“What?” Jack said, turning to look at me.
“Help me write my ending.” I clasped his hand more tightly. “I’ve struggled with writer’s block for weeks.”
“Vivi,” he said with a lopsided, heart-melting smile, “I don’t think romantic fiction is really one of my strengths. As much as I’d love to help you!”
I laughed and squeezed his hand. “The story is inspired by my life, Jack, especially by my love life. So, you’re kind of involved by default.”
“Well, I definitely want to be involved in your love life.” He smiled back at me. Quite an adoring smile, I noticed.
Has he always looked at me like that? I couldn’t remember. I made a mental note to ask him later when he first knew he loved me. But first, my novel.
“Then help me write it. I thought my story would be a Pride & Prejudice romance, but clearly I— we —have ended up in an Emma situation.”
He pretended to think about it until I tugged on his hand. “OK, Vivi. You must know this by now, but I’ll do anything for you.”
“Anything?” I raised my eyebrows.
“Always.” And Jack, the most discreet person I’d ever met, stopped suddenly to pull me into a deep kiss on the middle of the sidewalk in front of the café.
When he pulled back, I laughed and glanced toward the café window. “Jack, I never pegged you for a PDA guy. Melanie is never going to let us live this down.”
Jack’s grin slowly faded as his eyes held mine intently. “You’ve changed me, Vivi. For the better.”
“And here I thought you were already perfect,” I said, starting to pull him closer again but then halting suddenly as I stared into the distance.
“Vivi? What’s—”
“Shh,” I whispered, pulling him quickly away from the door to the café. “Let’s go somewhere else—”
“Viviana Cantwell? Is that you?”
At that deep voice, I turned around reluctantly, looking at the face from the past. “Hi. Uh, Kyle, right?”
“Kylan,” he said lightly, his striking steel-grey eyes focused on me.
“Right, right,” I said, waving my hand dismissively. “Well, it’s been …”
“Four years,” Kylan said with an expression that wasn’t quite a scowl but wasn’t exactly friendly either. What a difference those four years had made. Despite my distaste for him as a person, I’d always known he was objectively handsome, but now that word didn’t seem to do him justice. His formerly short brown hair was now slightly longer, sandy blonde from hours in the sun, as evidenced by the tanned forearms. And the arms, well, I imagined he spent a fair amount of time in the gym. Or maybe doing construction work—yeah, that was probably more his thing. Fine, he was mildly attractive now. But he couldn’t compare to my Jack , I thought, lacing my fingers through his.
Turning to Jack, Kylan stuck out his hand. “Jack Normandy, right? I don’t think we’ve met, but I heard all about you.”
“All good, I hope,” Jack said, shaking his hand and offering a friendly though confused smile. “How do you two know each other?”
Kylan looked at me, and a long moment passed before either of us spoke. I looked away, and then my eyes snapped back to meet his. “Well, he was—”
“We had a mutual friend,” Kylan said flatly.
I glanced at him briefly and saw nothing in his expression. “It was years ago, and—”
“It was. Feels like another lifetime.” Kylan’s jaw tightened.
Jack looked uncertainly between us. “Should I … give you guys some time to catch up? Vivi, we can always meet up later.”
“No!” I said hastily, and Kylan raised a single eyebrow. I felt annoyed that I even noticed. He was beneath my notice.
“It’s all right.” Kylan frowned briefly before giving me a curt nod and turning to walk away. “Nice to see you, Viviana.”
When he was out of earshot, I clutched Jack’s arm and groaned.
“Former lover?” Jack said lightly.
My eyes widened in horror. “Of course not. You know all my old flames, Jack. And I would never … with him …”
“What do you mean, with him ?” he asked, his head tilted in curiosity. “What is it about this guy? How do you know him?”
I sighed, pulling him back in the direction of home. “Let’s just go back home. I don’t feel like going to the café anymore.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, a look of concern on his face. “We can get our scones to go if you’d like.”
“No, I’ve lost my appetite,” I muttered.
“Well, now you definitely have to tell me how you know that guy because I’ve never seen you lose your appetite for scones.” He clasped my hand and squeezed as we strolled back toward our apartment building.
I sighed as we walked. “He and Annie had a thing. He was all wrong for her, a total loser really. The starving artist type, or starving writer, or something. I don’t even remember. But I don’t think he was even any good. Annie was ready to quit college to move halfway across the country with him. It was insane. I talked some sense into her though, and she gave him up, stayed in school. I don’t know what happened to him, but I thought he moved away. I mentioned the situation to you once or twice, but maybe I didn’t mention his name.”
Jack looked thoughtful. “Hmm, I wonder what he’s doing here now.”
“Who knows.” I bit the edge of my lip. “I’m sure his artist dream fell flat. I’m worried about Annie now though. I hope she doesn’t run into him.”
“Why?”
“Well, let’s just say she was really into him. She cried for days, weeks even, after he left.”
“That doesn’t sound like our Annie.”
“It wasn’t,” I admitted, shaking my head. “He was so wrong for her.”
He was silent for a moment. “Are you certain?”
“Of course I am.” I gave him a withering look. “You would doubt me?”
Jack stretched his arm around me and squeezed my shoulder gently. “Oh, you know I’m just teasing you. I don’t know what happened, and it doesn’t matter. What matters is that I have my Emma, and you have your Knightley.”
“Did you really just say that?” My eyes were shining as I drew him nearer. “I’m melting, Jack. Melting.”
“There’s your ending, Vivi.” His lips brushed mine softly before we reached our building. “And they melted together. Melted or melded?”
“Oh, that’s perfect,” I said with a wide smile. “Let’s get upstairs so I can write that down.”
His eyebrows drew together in doubt.
“I mean—oh, huh, you were joking.” I chuckled. “I still have a lot to learn about writing, eh?”
“I’ll teach you everything I know, Vivi, on one condition,” he said, squeezing my hand as we walked toward the stairs.
“What’s that?” I asked, turning toward him. The look in his sparkling eyes, full of passion, for me, told me everything I needed to know. My book would have to wait. The fictional Knightley couldn’t hold a candle to Jack Normandy.
Stay tuned for Austen Persuaded , the story of Annie and Kylan, in summer 2025!