Epilogue
DANI
Dexter told me to meet him here, in The Midnight Lounge, the place where we had our first date. Where we started so see each other for who we were.
It was here that we were trying to work out our backstories. What we’d tell people who asked questions about how we met and how he proposed.
We were like fire and ice. Opposites, yet complementing one another perfectly. We just didn’t know it at the time. We thought we were getting on while pretending not to care while the air between us crackled.
Tonight feels different yet familiar. I’m curious as to why he asked me to meet him here. It’s not quite Valentine’s Day yet, and it’s not even the weekend. He’s always so busy working hard at the office, and I’m still working from home.
Home.
My heart floods with warmth when I think of home. It’s not Dexter’s apartment that’s home. Home is wherever he is. The elevator dings and opens onto the familiar view. But as I step into the familiar lounge bar, and look around, it’s empty.
“Daniela, it’s me, Luke. We met before.” I remember now. The guy who sent us the bottle of Cristal champagne. He’s tall, with copper-colored hair and the bluest eyes, and all in black.
“I remember. Hi. What’s going on?”
“Everything’s fine. Dexter’s outside, waiting for you.”
“Outside?”
“He has something … arranged for you.” A hint of a smile. “Please, come this way.” He gestures for me to follow him.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
So I do, and we get back into the elevator, my heart racing. I have no idea what to expect. But we’re hardly in there are a few seconds when elevator doors glide open and I let out a gasp as my eyes sweep across the twinkling lights.
“I didn’t know you had a rooftop garden.”
Luke chuckles softly. “Hope you like it.”
Twinkling fairy lights are strung above a glass canopy. Warm shadows fall over frost-kissed ivy and delicate white roses tucked into sculptural planters along the perimeter. I feel the warmth coming from heaters, but I don’t see them anywhere. I see only marble benches.
In any case, the crisp February air feels warm enough that my long camel coat suddenly seems a tad too thick.
“This ... this is like being in a fairytale.”
When I turn to Luke again, he’s gone. I walk around, taking in the skyline and then I see him.
My ex-husband.
My darling Dexter.
He’s standing tall, tailored, and visibly tense, his hands bracketing the iron railings. He sees me, and turns, shoving his hands into the pockets of his long black cashmere coat as he walks towards me.
That’s when I see it, behind him.
A small round table draped in deep navy velvet, with a silver champagne bucket resting on top. A bottle of champagne inside, flanked by two tall flutes and a single pale blush rose in a crystal bud vase.
“Dexter …” I whisper, my breath leaving a trail of white curls in the cold air.
“Are you cold?” he asks, concern lining his brow.
“Not anymore.” We meet in the middle, standing face to face, the view before us a glittering galaxy. Snow flurries swirl lazily in the air like confetti.
The world below fades away, and all that remains is the quiet hum of city lights and the way he looks at me, like this is a dream. His dream, and it’s come true.
It’s my dream, too, and I fight the urge to pinch myself.
His hand reaches for my face, the same time as I place my hand on his chest.
He inhales a steadying breath. himself. “I didn’t know how to do this the right way,” he says. “There’s no manual for falling in love with the one person who sees through all your bullshit.”
Oh my.
I feel myself choking up at his words. “Dexter ...” I stare up at him. Thankful for everything I have in my life now. Everything. “This is where we had our first date,” I whisper.
He chuckles under his breath. “We had stories and details to iron out.”
“I came here knowing that you hated me for choosing you, but by the time I left, I thought we had more in common than not.”
His brow furrows. “I spent so long carrying the burden of my guilt, that all I could ever think about was hating and exacting revenge.” His voice softens. “But then you walked in, and you made me see things. You made me believe things. You gave me peace. That’s what I really wanted. Peace, not power, not revenge. I wanted you.”
I let out a shaky laugh, looking up at him through a hazy blur. Batting my eyelashes to try to stop the tears.
“I don’t like the idea of you being my ex-wife.”
I giggle.
“So, I need to fix that. Quickly.”
He looks at me for a long moment before reaching into his coat pocket and slowly dropping to one knee.
Oh my.
I gasp, my hand flying to my mouth.
He’s not.
Everything fades into the background. All I see are Dexter’s eyes on mine and when I look down, he pulls out a black velvet box and opens it. Inside is a breathtaking ring.
"An emerald?" I gasp. I love the color green, and Dexter remembered.
“It’s a rare Colombian emerald,” he says quietly. "Flawless, untreated, and worth more than most diamonds, because nothing about you was ever ordinary.”
The vivid green stone glows in a platinum setting, flanked by two tapered diamonds on each side.
I love it.
“I don’t want a life without you in it. I want your coffee breath in the morning and your smart-ass comments when I’m being an idiot. I want your trust, your laughter, your fire. I want it all, Daniela.” He looks up at me. “No contracts,” he says. “No timelines. No expectations. No loopholes.”
I can’t breathe.
This is ... a proposal.
A real one.
My eyes turn glassy, and his face loses focus for a few seconds until I blink back the tears.
“Will you marry me, Daniela? Again. For real this time.”
I nod, laughing through the tears. “Yes, again, for real, forever. Of course, yes.”
He slips the ring onto my finger, and it’s not flashy or ostentatious. It’s elegant. Simple. Perfect.
I remember the last time we did this, hurried, like an afterthought, him handing the ring to me under the table.
“Emerald,” he says, rises to standing. I throw my arms around his neck. “A symbol of love reborn, truth and loyalty. Like the love I have for you. Something that started under false pretenses and grew into something real.”
I didn’t think it was possible for my heart to overflow with even more emotion, but it does. “Dexter, I love you. So, so, so much.” There’s a wobble in my words, and a tear falls down my cheek. It’s emotion, pure and raw.
He wipes the tear away with his thumb. “You’ll marry me?” he asks, again, his scent intoxicating.
I press a kiss onto his lips.
“Yes.”
It feels like we’ve come full circle, having gone on a hell of a journey; we’ve been strangers who disliked one another then got married, and then we were a couple in love who divorced. This time, it’s real. We’re madly in love, engaged to be married.
“I love you, Daniela.” This time, when he kisses me again, it isn’t for show.
It’s love in its purest form.
Thank you for reading Dani and Dex’s story!