Chapter 12
HOPE
Three Weeks Later
I look around the apartment in awe.
How and when did this happen? Somehow, my stuff is no longer confined to boxes. I'm fully unpacked, and everything I own is interspersed with Alek's things.
His apartment is now our shared space.
Despite the crunchiness of a few weeks ago after I insisted on reclaiming my independence, things have settled down. My life with him has blossomed into a vibrant and unexpected journey. There's no question. I want a future filled with shared dreams and the simple joy of waking up beside each other every morning.
The hosting gig at Gus has been a Godsend. This is the most I’ve felt like myself since the attack. Alek's been nothing but supportive. He's given me the space to find my footing. Our relationship has stalled, though. Probably because of the distance I inadvertently created in my quest for autonomy.
I'm ready to bridge the gap once and for all and show Alek how I feel about him.
Earlier on our weekly phone call, Lissa sensed my determination and suggested a grand gesture. "Now, I haven't met him, but he seems like a unicorn. Why not surprise him with dinner? He's taken care of you for months, turn the tables a bit."
The spark of an idea turned into a whole thing. I'm all in. Alek should be home soon. My mom's favorite roast chicken is in the oven, and the dining room table is set. I'm excited to express my gratitude for his unwavering support and finally tell him how I feel.
I'm in the midst of preparing the mashed potatoes when I hear the door open. Alek steps in, and the surprise I planned for him is nearly forgotten when I see he's not empty-handed.
I'd recognize the worn, old case anywhere. My hands fly to my mouth when I realize he's carrying my beloved guitar.
"I found it." Alek's voice is tinged with excitement and something deeper. More meaningful. "I tracked it down and found it at a pawn shop in Tacoma. I know you miss your music and were planning on buying a new one, but I thought…"
Tears prick my eyes as I take in the sight of my long-lost companion. This guitar is more than an instrument. It's a piece of my soul. My link to a past I thought was gone forever.
Alek, in his quiet, thoughtful way, has managed to return a piece of myself I feared was lost.
I melt into his arms. "I love you. I really, really love you. You have no idea how much this means to me."
His warm, genuine smile is like a cozy blanket. "I love you too. No matter what, I want you to be happy. To see you whole again, with or without me."
"With you." The sentiment behind his words, the selflessness, only deepens my feelings for him. I press a kiss to his sweet lips. "Always with you."
Dinner can wait.
Any remaining space between us is now filled with happy tears, laughter, and soft touches. Expressions of love and forever. Urgent kisses. Bodies pressed together.
I lead him to the bedroom to assure him, once and for all…
Our love isn't a shackle, it's my foundation.
EPILOGUE
ALEK
Two Months Later
Times sure have changed.
Nowadays, I confidently walk into The Mission every Thursday as a VIP, surrounded by my friends.
It's Hope's night. Her standing gig has become the highlight of my—and many of her fans who missed her—week. She's transitioned from the whimsical, unpredictable life of busking to a more established presence here.
Her journey hasn't been all hearts and flowers. Beyond her music career taking a significant turn for the better, she's navigating all aspects of her recovery with grace and resilience. Her physical symptoms have all but resolved. She's added therapy sessions to her routine. A necessary step for her to heal from the assault's lingering shadows.
It's a testament to her strength, watching her tackle these challenges head-on. Hope's unwavering determination to move forward is an inspiration.
Before she steps onstage, I make my way to her dressing room, eager to steal a kiss before her set. Knocking softly, I enter and find her in a state of focused preparation. She strums her battered guitar, playing a melody I haven't heard before. "Hi, my love."
Flipping her dark hair over her shoulder, Hope smiles at me and puts down the instrument. "Hey, baby."
"Feel ready?" I sit beside her and tug her close.
She blinks up at me. "Yeah, I was feeling inspired. I'm writing a song about fate."
"Oh yeah?" I kiss her temple. "Tell me."
Hope nestles into my side. Strokes my bicep. "Therapy's been tough, but it's making a difference. Do you know, I wouldn't change anything that's happened. Meeting you feels predestined. As weird as it sounds, especially given how hard my recovery has been, I really believe we were in the right place at the right time."
"Well, I'd take the part of you getting hurt away any day." I squeeze her to me. "I'd have figured out a way to talk to you eventually."
She laughs. "Oh, you'd probably still be watching me from behind the flower vendors. Tell the truth."
"Probably." I chuckle.
"And now you've received a promotion, and I'm working at Gus and playing here. After tonight, the real work begins—auditioning my band…" She strokes my cheek. "If the creating music for the games thing works out, it'll be a whole new world."
Her resilience in the face of adversity and drive to reclaim her narrative—it's nothing short of remarkable. "All of it is cool and all, but you’re the only thing that matters."
"Same." She smiles. "Same."
A knock on the door signals it's time for her to perform. I offer a supportive smile. "I love you. You're going to be phenomenal. I'll be in the front row with the guys, cheering you every step of the way."
"I love you, too. So much," she whispers, and we share a sweet kiss before she steps into the spotlight.
As she heads to the stage, her silhouette is framed by the backstage lights. I can't help but feel a surge of pride. She's right. Our journey, marked by its trials and triumphs, has led us here.
She strums the first chord, and her music fills the room. "I'm Hope Kristiensen, and this song is dedicated to Alek."
"Dude!" Jamie nudges me, and I can't help but beam.
"It's brand new." She gazes out into the audience, looking like an angel on earth. My angel. "It's called 'Chords of Destiny.'"