EPILOGUE
Lennon – Six years later
The evening air is warm, filled with the buzz of voices, laughter, and the faint sound of live music drifting from the stage at the far end of the street. The annual Olson Theater celebration has grown over the years, spilling out across three blocks with food stands, fairy lights, and an energy that feels alive. Everywhere I look, there’s joy—families, friends, couples—and it fills me with gratitude.
Ruben walks beside me, his hand resting protectively on the small of my back. He’s always doing that, always attuned to me, but now, with our little one on the way, his attentiveness has reached a whole new level.
“Are you hungry?” he asks, his voice low, warm, and filled with amusement. He already knows the answer.
I glance up at him and grin. “What do you think?”
He chuckles, leaning down to kiss my temple. “Come on, let’s find you something good.”
We weave through the crowd, past booths offering everything from handmade crafts to fresh empanadas. My stomach growls as the smell of spices and grilled meats fills the air, and I’m reminded yet again how this pregnancy has turned me into a bottomless pit of cravings.
Ruben stops in front of an Oaxacan food stand, the aroma of fried chicken wafting toward us. “Is this okay?” he asks, looking at me like he’d buy out the whole street if it made me happy.
“It’s perfect,” I say, already eyeing the plates coming off the grill.
As he places our order, I rest a hand on my belly and smile. “This kid’s got me craving spicy food nonstop. I swear, I’m growing a little Mexican in here.”
Ruben turns, his dark eyes lighting up with pride and a hint of mischief. “We are known for our excellent taste,” he says with pride shining in his eyes, handing me a plate piled high with mole con pollo and red rice. “I should’ve known my kid would want something with a kick.”
We find a quiet spot near the edge of the street, away from the main crowd. I sit on a bench, and Ruben hovers beside me, his hand still on my back as I dig into the food.
“You’re still obsessed with my diet, aren’t you?” I tease, glancing up at him between bites.
“Always,” he says, his voice serious but his lips twitching into a smile. “You and that little one are my top priority.”
I roll my eyes affectionately, but my heart swells at his words. This man. Years later, and he still finds ways to make me feel like the center of his world.
Our baby. He or she will be here in a few months. The road to getting pregnant wasn’t easy for us. We tried, and tried, and nothing happened. We found an infertility doctor and after two rounds, we were ready to give up and go for adoption. Then a miracle happened. Two lines appeared on the white stick. We kissed, we hugged, we cried.
As we sit here, the music changes to something slower, softer, and my mind drifts back to our wedding day. “Can you believe it’s almost our anniversary?” I ask, setting my empty plate aside.
Ruben leans against the bench, his arms crossed as he watches me with that smoldering intensity that never fails to make my pulse quicken. “I think about it all the time,” he admits. “That day, you walked toward me in that beautiful white dress… I’ll never forget it.”
I laugh softly, shaking my head. “Jennifer was so mad we didn’t want to celebrate at the theater.”
“She got over it,” he says with a grin. “ Eventually .”
“It was the right choice, though,” I say, resting my hand on his. “I just wanted everybody to relax and enjoy the moment with us.”
He nods, his fingers lacing with mine. “It was perfect. Just us, our friends and family. And that little restaurant where it all began.”
“And then Thailand,” I add, a dreamy smile spreading across my face. “Two weeks of nothing but us, the ocean, and… well, a lot of other things.”
His laugh is low and rich, and it sends a shiver down my spine. “Best two weeks of my life.”
I look up at him, the man who has been my anchor, my partner, my everything. “We’ve come so far, haven’t we?”
“We have,” he says, his voice soft but steady. “We fought for this. For love, for each other, for everything we’ve built.”
When Ruben got his promotion at the firm, he decided to invest in the future—in the most literal way. With his hefty bonus, we started looking at homes, just for fun at first. We scrolled through listings late at night, imagining a life beyond his modern apartment and the house I had, that I decided to sell to Nikki.
Then we found it . A spectacularly remodeled Tudor manor house in Monterey Boulevard. The moment I saw the listing, I laughed, shaking my head. Way out of our budget. But Ruben? He just gave me that knowing look, the one that says he already has a plan. And, as always, he surprised me.
Now, the house is ours to fill with love, with memories, and a future I never let myself fully dream about until we meet. The once-pristine rooms have been baby-proofed, edges softened, and cabinets secured. And the nursery, our baby’s room, has become my favorite place in the house.
The walls are painted a soft gray, a color that feels warm in the afternoon light. A wooden crib sits in front of the window, waiting. Sometimes, I find myself standing there, hand resting on the smooth railing, imagining the quiet weight of a sleeping baby inside. Our baby.
This house is more than a home. It’s a promise. It’s the place where our love has taken root, where our family will grow.
I glance around, taking in the vibrant celebration happening all around us. The Olson Theater, now a cornerstone of the community, stands proudly at the heart of it all. “We created something that matters,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. “Something to be proud of. And for this little one,” I add, patting my belly.
“For them,” Ruben agrees, his hand covering mine.
Now, as I watch him savor a bite of chicken, the streetlights catching in his dark eyes, I know our world has only grown. We’ve fought for everything we have, from our love for the theater to this life we’re creating for our child.
Ruben looks at me, his gaze softening in that way that makes my knees weak even after all these years. “You okay?”
I nod, tears pricking my eyes. “More than okay. We did it, Ruben. We chased everything worth having—and we caught it.”
He leans down, pressing a kiss to my temple. “We weren’t afraid. Through it all, we went for what matters most. We chased love.”
He is right. We weren’t afraid, and now we are sure love is everything. It’s our beginning, our journey, and our forever.
THE END