Epilogue
Three Years Later
Vivian’s violets had taken over the guesthouse, now called the studio. She’d propagated so many that when they built a second booth for Bryn where the living room once was, and expanded Vivian’s booth to accommodate their duets, the place looked like a greenhouse with a kitchen.
There had never been a let’s-move-in-together conversation.
Bryn had spent the night once and never really left.
After a while, paying rent for nothing seemed stupid and because Vivian refused to let her contribute financially in the house, she’d been able to focus on narration full-time.
Full-time except for when she drove Gloria around.
When Bryn entered the studio after taking out the garbage so Iris didn’t have to, she walked into a riot of purple flowers on every surface and Vivian standing at the sink. Not standing. Swaying to the song she was humming.
Grinning, Bryn slipped in behind her and wrapped her arms around her waist. She perched her chin on Vivian’s shoulder and watched her rinse out the teapot. Two mugs of the potent licorice tea that still tasted like capital punishment sat steaming on the counter.
“Mark sent over more pickups for the tennis book,” Bryn said with a kiss to the back of Vivian’s neck.
“I saw,” she replied, unbothered.
Bryn giggled, already knowing where this was going. “Are you going to do them?”
“Obviously not,” Vivian replied sharply and dried her hands before turning.
She rested her forearms on Bryn’s shoulders, fingers playing mindlessly with the hair at the base of Bryn’s neck.
“If Mark and his team cannot distinguish between an error and an artistic choice, that’s a literacy problem, not a performance one. ”
Even though she knew something like that was coming, Bryn still grimaced at the burn. “Damn, babe. The man has children.”
Vivian bit back her own amusement. “I don’t go to his house and tell him how to rear them.”
Bryn wrapped her arms around Vivian’s torso and pulled her in close. “How can someone be so sweet when no one is looking but—”
“Bite your tongue,” Vivian warned, cheeks still pink from their morning swim.
Taking the bait eagerly with both hands, Bryn rocked onto her toes. “Bite it for me.”
Vivian smirked. “Again?”
Bryn’s groan rumbled in her throat. “You know I like it when you’re mean to me.”
“Me or Marlowe?” Vivian couldn’t resist bringing up her Siren alter-ego.
Marlowe hadn’t just surpassed Kelly Craves in likes and follows, she’d pushed some kink boundaries Bryn didn’t even know existed.
The completely secret outlet, kept secret by moderate voice modulation to conceal Vivian’s identity, had opened up a new channel for Vivian.
It had been incredible to witness, and jaw-dropping to participate in.
Marlowe and Kelly’s quarterly collaborations had actually broken the app the first time they debuted. Too many downloads initiated at the same time had done something to the servers. Vivian’s first time as a dominant had definitely done something to Bryn’s brain.
“I have that cosmic horror to start,” Bryn said after giving Vivian a peck on the lips and then reaching for her mug. “Or did you want to knock out the end of Yenni’s book?”
True to her word, Yenni Montoya had focused exclusively on sapphic romance. After Magpies became a streaming hit and spawned a dozen copycats, there was no question she’d made the right choice. As promised, Bryn and Vivian were always the voices in Yenni’s head.
“Always finish what you have before you start something new,” Vivian said in her deep, slow Marlowe voice. It sent a rush of heat racing through Bryn’s body and it took all of her self-control not to set the mug down and drop to her knees for her favorite performer.
“I like to jump around.” Bryn wiggled her brows. “It keeps things exciting.”
Vivian looked at her over the rim of her mug while she sipped. With nothing but her dark eyes and darker intent, Vivian said Bryn would pay for that later. Entire body alive with anticipation, Bryn sure as hell hoped so.
In Vivian’s booth where two microphones were set up across from each other for tandem recording, Bryn opened her tablet and set it up on the stand under the mic. She adjusted her headphones and watched Vivian prepare the recording software.
Bryn would never get tired of this. She would never take this for granted. Working with the woman she loved, a front-row seat to the best performer she’d yet to meet, and the electric excitement of creating art with the person she trusted most in the world.
Vivian caught her staring. “Losing focus already?”
“I can’t help it,” Bryn confessed, exaggeratedly batting her eyes.
“Wildly unprofessional,” she replied dryly, her lack of a smile only making Bryn swoon harder.
“God, I love you,” Bryn sighed and she wasn’t even exaggerating.
Vivian’s cheeks flushed, a lopsided smile getting away from her. “Are you ready to work?” She put on her headphones.
Bryn bit her bottom lip. “Yes, ma’am.”
Two hours later they’d finished recording the big declaration of love scene in Yenni’s latest book. Bryn wiped her eyes with the bottom of her tank top.
“We should record that again,” she said, nose stuffy.
“What?” Vivian’s expression sharpened. “Why?”
“Because I love the way Yenni Montoya makes you say the most over-the-top mushiest things,” she confessed, heart still racing from Vivian having maintained eye contact with her while her character poured her heart out.
There was something about falling in love with each other again and again. In new skin but the same hearts.
Vivian chuckled. “Well, she sent over some kind of bonus she wants me to record. You can stay if you want.” She moved things on her iPad, but something about her energy was off.
Bryn narrowed her gaze. “What bonus? I didn’t get an email with a bonus.”
Vivian shrugged. “I guess it’s just for Harper’s character. A promo.”
The most annoying thing about audio production is that everyone was copied on every email all the time. Why had they left her out of promotional material?
Unconcerned by how freaking weird she was being, Vivian adjusted her headphones, hit the button on her laptop, and looked down at her iPad. When she looked at Bryn again, she was still using her speaking voice. Not her performance voice.
“You build your life around control. Around the precise management of how you are seen and heard and perceived. You learn early that vulnerability is weakness, and you spend decades making sure no one gets close enough to test that theory.”
Vivian took a breath, glancing between her screen and Bryn’s confused expression.
“Then she walks in. Uninvited, late, and completely uninterested in the version of you the rest of the world knows.”
There was something about the way Vivian delivered the lines that made Bryn hold her breath. Not only did the tone not match Yenni’s voice at all, but the words didn’t match the story.
“She has freckles you want to memorize and a laugh that undoes every lock you’ve ever installed. She brings you a plant and bets you can’t keep it alive, and you resent her for being right. But then she shows the depths of selflessness… of her compassion… and you can’t look away.”
Vivian’s tone wavered, but Bryn’s eyes were already watering. Her heart already hammering.
“She sees the worst of you,” Vivian faltered, voice cracking, tear falling.
Bryn couldn’t move. Couldn’t console her.
“She sees the sharp and the cold and the impossible, but stays. Not because she doesn’t notice all the reasons not to love you, but because she’s decided she wants those too. When she says she wants all of you, she means it for reasons you’ll never understand.”
Vivian was crying and Bryn was bawling.
“And you follow her into the water and everything that scares you because she asked, and you’ve run out of reasons to say no to her. Because she’s reminded your heart how to beat and your lungs how to breathe.”
Vivian inhaled, not bothering to pretend that she needed to look down at the screen. Not pretending she needed to read the words she’d written herself. The words that were systematically dismantling Bryn.
“You learn a hundred ways to make her smile. You learn that her happiness tastes better than your own. And you hope that when you ask her the only question left burning in your heart—”
She pulled off her headphones and Bryn tore hers off so fast she yanked out the cable.
“When I ask you, the most incredible person I’ve ever met, will you marry me—”
Bryn bounded toward her. Arms wrapped around her and grin so wide it hurt.
“Yes, obviously, yes.” She kissed Vivian’s lips, her cheeks, her chin.
Bryn was still holding Vivian’s face, still laughing and crying at the same time, when her eyes drifted past Vivian’s shoulder to the laptop screen. The waveform was still moving.
“You’re still recording,” Bryn whispered.
Vivian didn’t look at the screen; she stayed nestled in the crook of Bryn’s neck. The place she’d always called her favorite on earth. “I know.”
It took several seconds for Bryn to understand. Vivian hadn’t just written the words. She’d wanted to capture what came after them.
Bryn pressed her forehead to Vivian’s and tried not to start crying again.
“That one’s not going to need pickups,” Bryn said quietly.
Vivian closed her eyes. “No,” she murmured. “That one was right on the first take.”