Epilogue
Three months later…
Clayton
"Here's to new friends and new beginnings," Leo says, lifting his glass.
Rove, Vaughn, and I raise ours as well, the clinks mingling with the soft lapping of water. In what's become a weekly tradition, we're enjoying a lazy Sunday afternoon together, sitting on the upper deck of my yacht in what has to be the world's most secure marina.
Not that there's an active security threat anymore. Davi may be a psycho, but he's at least smart enough not to go against my uncle. Vaughn still doesn't venture out, apart from his monthly trip to send money and supplies to his family back home, but he has loosened up a lot around here.
Mabel has started crawling, which means I may have gone a little OTT and purchased playpens to keep her safe—hello, we're on a boat!—and placed one in every single room.
"Did you hear that?" Rove asks, bringing a hand to his ear and straining.
We all listen for a moment.
"I don't hear anything," Vaughn says.
"Neither do I," I add.
"Really?" Rove says, still leaning over to listen. "You guys don't hear…wedding bells?"
I do hear Leo groan loudly as Vaughn's gaze catches mine. We smile at each other, doing that silent talking thing couples do. You answer. No, you answer.
"Please ignore him." Leo fills in the silence. "He's been practicing that bit all morning."
"Your acting chops are a little rusty, mate," I tease him, grinning.
"In my defense, I did action movies, not Shakespeare."
The four of us laugh.
An expectant silence ensues, like Rove is still holding out hope one of us will cave.
Eventually, one of us does.
Me.
"I'm not sure about marriage, but I know that I love Vaughn, and he loves me.
The three of us are becoming a family. Why put it into a box and stamp it with a label of marriage?
I don't even label my sexuality. A friend I haven't spoken to in years called the other day, and as I was telling him about my new life up here, he asked, 'So, does that mean you're bi?
' He was asking so that he could be supportive and respectful, but it made me realize I don't have a word for it.
I love who I love, that's it," I say with a shrug.
"That's very cool," Leo says, smiling warmly and lifting his glass my way.
"Yeah, it is," Vaughn says, sending me a look that tells me he gets it.
I think?
Might need to check in with him about it later, just to be sure. You can never tell with these Montanaian men.
"I see myself being with you forever," I say to him.
His cheeks flush, and he smiles so big it makes my heart want to burst out of my chest. "I see myself being with you forever, too."
"I've been thinking," I say, later that evening once Rove and Leo have left and Mabel is down for the night.
Vaughn is snuggled into me on the couch, and we're half-watching some old movie with Michael Douglas and Diane Keaton, who's character keeps crying all the time for some reason I haven't paid enough attention to understand.
"When I was talking about not needing to get married, I got the feeling you agreed with me. But I'm not sure."
Vaughn pauses the movie. "I do. I think marriage is nice, but it isn't necessary."
There's something in the slow, measured way he's talking that makes me not buy it entirely.
"But is it something you would like?"
"Maybe…" He turns around so he's facing me. "It wasn't even in the realm of possibility back home, so I never even dared to dream it. And I'm not materialistic. I don't want you for your money."
"I know that."
He cracks a grin. "Buuut…a huge ring on my finger telling the world I'm yours might be nice."
I try reading his face, his barely there accent making it hard to tell if he's for real or kidding around. "You hardly ever leave the marina, and everyone around here already knows you're mine and I'm yours."
He bites into his lower lip. "Okay, so maybe I just want, as you Aussies say, a giant fuckoff ring."
I laugh. "Right. I see."
"Is that wrong?"
"Of course not. In fact, it's good to know."
He places his hand over my heart. "Don't do anything crazy. I love how things are with us, I'm so happy with you."
"And I'm happy with you."
"And I really do see us being together forever. Whether it's official or not."
He rolls back around, hits play on the remote, and I wrap my arms around him snugly.
I love how things are with us, too. I'm also cognizant of how new this all is.
We've barely been together for half a year.
I don't like rushing. I want to savor every new moment we share, every discovery we make about each other, every milestone we get to see Mabel experience.
But who knows? Maybe one day my thoughts on marriage might change, and I'll give Vaughn the giantest, most fuckoffery wedding ring ever.
Maybe that day isn't all that far off. After all, I was seriously considering proposing to Melinda and River, and what I feel for Vaughn is a hundred times more intense than what I felt for them.
Since I'm cuddling him, I can't exactly reach over and play on my phone.
Vaughn seems to be enjoying the movie, chuckling occasionally, so I try to pay attention to it.
I've missed too much of the plot to get into it, but I can't help but be reminded of Dad when I see the grumpy character Michael Douglas is playing.
Except of course, Hollywood portrays being a grumpy old man as adorable.
Dad is a grumpy old man because he's heartbroken and in a dark hole he can't get out of.
Maybe I should invite him to come up here?
The warm air, the sunshine, the change of scenery could do him a world of good.
It worked wonders for me. Not that I can picture Dad romantically involved with anyone.
I'll just take him getting back to how he used to be instead of the shell of a man he is now.
I wonder how his training sessions with Robbie's brother, Jarvis, are going. I still can't believe he got roped into it. All this wondering about how he's doing is making one thing very clear—I'm way overdue to give my old man a call.
My phone buzzes on the coffee table. Vaughn reaches over, passes it over his shoulder, and continues watching the movie.
"Thanks."
I read the text. A few seconds later, Vaughn pauses the movie again and rolls around. "What's wrong?"
"How do you know something's wrong?"
"I felt you tense up."
I show him the message I just received from Melinda, saying she feels bad about how things ended and wants to talk so we can find some 'closure.'
"Are you going to respond?" Vaughn asks, handing the phone back.
I shake my head. "Nope. Dad used to say No response is a response.
He was referring to business negotiations, but I think it equally applies to personal life.
I spent a lot of time, especially in those first few months after it happened, wishing she and River had told me the truth.
That the three of us could have sat down and talked like mature adults about what really happened.
But now, none of that matters. They showed me their true colors.
That's the closure I thought I needed, but it's not the closure I got.
I accept that now. I'm not interested in hearing what she has to say.
I've moved on. I'm with someone who values honesty as much as I do. "
Vaughn draws in a slow breath, his expression tightening. "Even though I wasn't exactly forthcoming with you at the start?"
"That's different," I say, grazing his chin with my thumb. "You had good reasons to be wary."
"I wanted to tell you, but I was so afraid."
"I get it. I do." When his frown only deepens, I lift his chin so that his eyes meet mine. "Let's make a promise. Radical honesty. No matter how bad or hard the conversation might be, we don't run away from it, but we deal with it head on. Together."
I stick out my pinkie.
He hooks his around it. "Radical honesty," he repeats, looking me square in the eye. "No matter what."
"I love you with all my heart, Vaughn."
"I love you with all my heart, too."