Epilogue
Alice
One year later
“Why do you do this to yourself? I don’t understand.”
Dominic responded with an incoherent grunt that sounded like it might have been an attempt at the word “endorphins” as he peeled off his sweat-soaked tee and trudged into the shower.
“Shorts,” I reminded him, smiling when the garment flew across the bathroom. That particular grunt I recognized as an appreciative “thank you.”
I stripped out of my own clothes and followed him in, just like I’d done yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that. It was more efficient this way, given that he’d likely fall asleep before the shampoo could fully wash out of his hair.
I didn’t get it.
It was cute, don’t get me wrong, but I did not get it.
What had initially started as a desperate attempt to get my brother to hear him out had somehow morphed into a bonding daily routine. Every morning, at 4:50 a.m., Dominic lugged himself out of bed and met Adrien at our front gate. Voluntarily. Out of his own volition.
And every morning, Adrien chose to drive down to our neighborhood so Dominic could get a few extra minutes of sleep before their run and grabbed breakfast on his way so they could eat together right after. Voluntarily. Out of his own volition.
They didn’t even talk most days. Literally ran in silence and ate in silence, and if that wasn’t love, I didn’t know what was.
“Did you have fun?”
Dominic gave a deep but gentle hum, fumbling with the controls of our overly complicated shower.
“I got it. Here.” I turned the thing on and instructed him to sit.
He listened, but only so he could pull me into a hug and snuggle my breasts while it rained hot water.
I laughed, kissing the top of his head before reaching for the shampoo.
His chest rumbled and purred, his body melting into mine as I massaged the lather into his hair.
“Love you so much,” he mumbled to my left breast. “So much. Too much.”
If anyone, living or dead, had a better morning routine than this, I’d have loved to hear it.
“I love you, too. So much. Too much.”
“We’re going to get married.”
I clicked my tongue. “No can do, I’m already engaged.”
He smiled against my skin. “Lucky bastard.”
“So he says.”
“Break up with him. Marry me instead.”
“Can’t. Too awkward. We finally just got around to starting this gaming company we’d been planning since we were kids, and he insisted that we must share an office, even though we already live together. Oh, and he’s going to ask my brother to be his best man tonight… It’s a whole thing.”
“Oof. He must be nervous.”
I smiled. “Would it help if I met with the interior designer alone today? Give you a couple more hours to sleep?”
It was just the wrap-up meeting, and she’d done such a beautiful job decorating that it would mostly just be us singing her praises while she tsked at Dominic with an upturned nose, continuously judging him for ever even considering selling the property.
“No, it’s okay. Ilze will want to get a last few jabs in before we wrap up.”
I ran my fingers soothingly through his hair. “You sure?”
“Mmm.” After a few minutes, he followed it up with, “Alice?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you for agreeing to marry me.”
My cheeks were going to fall off if my grin spread any wider. “You’re welcome. Thank you for asking.”
“You’re welcome.”
I’d spent the last year drowning in my own happiness, and every time I thought I’d hit the peak, Dominic did or said something seemingly small that made me soar just a little higher.
Including how much help he’d been during the turbulent storm that was my parents’ sudden move.
Less than five days after Dominic had sat them down and broken the news about Rosie’s Alzheimer’s, they’d hired a Realtor and were bidding on a place in our old neighborhood.
There had been no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Gampy and my mom drove to visit her almost daily, Wednesday night family dinners were reinstated with Rosie in attendance, and Adrien and I were back to not being able to avoid our family, even if we wanted to.
It was perfect.
“We’ll need to get Maxwell a tux for the wedding,” Dominic muttered absentmindedly.
“He’s not invited.”
He chuckled, tilting his head and playfully nipping at my breast. “Don’t talk about my boy like that.”
“Your boy will shit on my veil before I’m even halfway down the aisle.”
“He gets excited. Leave him alone.”
“Fine. But if he gets to come, I get to tell my family the unfiltered version of our engagement story.” The one in which he’d cried. A lot.
The conditioner tumbled out of my hand when he pulled me onto his lap, pressing his smiling lips to mine. Giggling, I looped my arms around his neck.
To be fair, I’d also bawled my eyes out. He’d outdone himself with the proposal.
I’d ventured home alone after work last Friday, having been misled about Dominic’s late-afternoon meeting obligations. I’d unlocked the door, walked in, and almost tripped over my own shock when I saw him standing in the middle of the foyer, surrounded by candles and red rose petals.
Before I could say anything, he’d pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to me. “This is for you.”
My hands were shaking, my heart clenching as I opened the crumpled pages, careful not to pull too hard at the tape holding the torn pieces together.
Alice.
I’ve written a thousand different versions of this letter, but I still can’t seem to get it right.
I don’t know where to start, how to articulate any of the things I need to tell you, and I really don’t know how you’ll react to any of it.
What I do know is that I’ll never be able to live with myself if I don’t at least try, so I’m just going to tell you the truth, and hopefully that will be enough.
You’re the best part of my day.
Whenever my alarm goes off, the first thing I think is that I’m twenty minutes away from seeing you again. Fifteen, if I can hurry. That’s why I’m always late to school when you’re sick. I keep pressing snooze and trying to fast-forward time until you’re better.
You probably think that’s stupid. It sounds stupid when I write it out.
But I don’t know how else to say it, and I think I might fail all my classes at university if you’re not there to get me out of bed.
That’s kind of why I’ve been tutoring you so hard and why I waited to see where you were going first. I don’t really care which school I go to as long as you’re there too.
Otherwise, I would miss you so much, I’d be tempted to keep pressing snooze until the semester ended.
I would even miss arguing with you. I love arguing with you.
It feels exactly like being suspended at the top of a rollercoaster, right before the big drop.
I would argue with you every minute of every day if I could.
You don’t look at anyone else when we’re bickering.
And maybe that’s really selfish and I shouldn’t like it, but I do.
It’s the only time I get to stare at you without being scared I’ll get caught.
Your eyes are my favorite color.
They’re so green, and so dark and vibrant that I don’t understand how they can be real. Then again, I’m not really sure how you can be real. You’re the most interesting person I’ve ever met, and you’re so beautiful, Alice, that sometimes it’s hard for me to breathe when I look at you.
I’m sorry for all the times I’ve been an ass to you. It took me a long time to learn how to cope with my feelings, and even longer to acknowledge them. If you don’t feel the same way and decide to return my hoodie, that’s okay. At least then I’ll know.
Anyway, I have to stop writing now. All the other letters were over eight pages long and would definitely hold up in court during a no-contact hearing, which you probably will want to file anyway. I think I’ll need to take out the thing about your eyes in the next version.
But in case I don’t chicken out, and this is the letter you get, and you’ve made it this far without running to the police, here’s the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
You’re the best part of my day. My favorite color.
You’re my favorite song, my favorite movie, my favorite game, and every good thing in between.
And I’m sorry to say, Loch Ness, that I think I’m in love with you.
I’d read it three times, shaking as I sobbed over the words while simultaneously trying to keep the pages dry. And I’d been so immersed in them that I hadn’t seen him drop down to one knee until he said, “It’s clumsy, I know, but I really did try my best.”
I wiped at my cheeks, carefully refolded the most perfect letter ever drafted, and cradled it to my stomach.
“And I’m sorry it took so long to reach you. You have no idea—” He cut off, the telling crack in his voice shattering me to pieces. “I could write a thousand more pages, Alice, and it still wouldn’t be enough. It’s always been you. It’s only been you. And if you give me the chance to show—”
I’d tackled him then. Clung onto him until we were both crying and blubbering “I love yous” until our voices grew too hoarse to keep going.
It wasn’t what I’d meant when I’d promised to make him weep on his knees, but I wasn’t complaining.
Brushing Dominic’s wet curls away from his forehead, I leaned in to kiss him again, the comforting weight of my ring a constant reassurance that this wasn’t a dream.
“I love you,” I whispered. “You’re the best part of my day.
” Another kiss. “My favorite color.” One more.
“You’re my favorite song, my favorite movie, my favorite game, and every good thing in between. ”
And I would happily spend the rest of my life proving it to him.
The End.