Epilogue
INGRID. END OF DECEMBER, OPENING NIGHT. PRESENT
Ingrid,
I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
Five times for the five years I didn’t say it.
I loved you the moment I laid eyes on you, before I even knew what love could feel like. I’ll love you until the moment this worthless heart stops beating and even then, I think I’d love you still.
Yours,
Beck
Letter dated August 29th, 4 months ago from the present
There are moments in life that stretch and slow, like time itself is pausing, asking you to feel everything, to remember everything. This was one of those moments.
Ingrid stood center stage, wrapped in the applause of her final bow. Her chest rose and fell in quick, uneven bursts, the performance still humming through her limbs, vibrating in her bones.
That last lift had soared, flawless and fierce, like flight lit from within. She had done it. Starred in the show she had dreamed of since she was a little girl sitting in the cheap seats, eyes wide, clutching the program like it was something sacred.
The curtain dropped. The world slipped away. But the euphoria didn’t. It stayed. It thrummed through her like a second heartbeat, louder, lighter, more alive than anything she had felt in years.
She hadn’t realized how badly she needed this. To prove to herself that she could do it.
When she turned the handle of her dressing room door, heart pounding in her throat.
She didn’t have to look far. Her eyes found him instantly.
Beck was standing there like he’d always been.
Like he’d been waiting for this moment just as long as she had.
His entire face lit up the second he saw her, the kind of pure, unfiltered joy that made her heart twist inside her chest. He swept her into his arms, lifting her clean off the ground.
He held her so tightly she could barely breathe.
She laughed, breathless against his neck, her arms wrapping around him, the scent of him, soap and winter air and something distinctly Beck, flooding her.
"I’m guessing the standing ovation wasn’t enough for you?" she teased, laughing softly as he pulled her into his arms, his face pressing into the curve of her shoulder.
"You have no idea," he murmured against her skin. "You were breathtaking. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life."
He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, something tender and shining in his gaze.
"And now I finally get to hold you after a performance. This might actually be the best night of my life."
Something warm and bright bloomed in her chest. Since that night on the stairs there had been no looking back. No second-guessing. No overthinking. No fear.
She hadn’t just fallen back into him. She’d crashed, pulled by a gravity too strong to resist. Christmas. New Year’s. Every moment between.
Mornings spent tangled in bedsheets, sunlight painting lazy patterns across bare skin.
Afternoons lost to laughter, half-eaten pastries, his coffee and her hot chocolate shared in quiet corner cafés.
Nights stitched together by whispered confessions, bruising kisses, and the quiet hum of jazz from speakers older than either of them.
Midnight strolls through snowy streets, fingers laced tightly together.
They were relearning each other, the new scars, the old dreams, the ways they’d been broken and stitched back together. It wasn’t rushed or reckless. It was inevitable. As effortless as breathing.
"You did it," Beck whispered against her hair, his voice thick with pride. "I knew you would."
His breath warmed her skin, his arms locked around her like he had no intention of ever letting go. Before she could reply, a human wrecking ball slammed into her side, forcibly prying her from Beck’s grasp.
"Okay, lovebirds, break it up!" Sylvia crowed. Jessica was right behind her, grinning. "You can have your sappy moment later. I need my girl right now."
Ingrid turned to them, her heart swelling as Sylvia pulled her into a fierce hug.
"You were magic," Sylvia whispered fiercely in her ear. "Absolute fucking magic."
"I think I cried more than Eden," she said, laughing through what definitely sounded like a sniffle. "And you know that's saying something."
Sadie burst through the crowd, practically vibrating with energy.
"You were insane out there!" Sadie shrieked, grabbing Ingrid by the shoulders and giving her a shake, like she was trying to reboot her. "That lift at the end? I almost threw my drink. Actually, I did throw my drink. But that’s not important."
"Sadie," Ronan deadpanned, appearing behind her. "That drink you threw was mine."
"Acceptable loss," she said breezily, flapping a hand at him, before turning back to Ingrid. "I’m obsessed with you. Sign my forehead."
Before Ingrid could process that request, Eden swooped in and hugged her so tightly that Ingrid briefly left her body and saw her ancestors.
"You were flawless!" Eden gushed. "I nearly passed out just watching that pirouette sequence."
"My liege, I am unworthy!" Reef suddenly bellowed, dropping into an exaggerated bow.
Ingrid shook her head, laughter bubbling out of her as Beck barely had time to pull her back into his arms before Finn materialized, grinning.
"This is your world," Beck murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple. "The rest of us are just lucky to live in it."
Her heart swelled. She grinned up at him and tilted her head to kiss him. As soon as their lips met a wild, thunderous applause exploded around them courtesy of Finn.
"Finally!" Finn cried, throwing his hands in the air. "Five years of Beck sobbing into his coffee about ‘my one true love’ finally closed out like a bad Netflix series!"
Just then, Ronan called Beck over to mediate a full-blown standoff at the snack table.
Apparently, someone had eaten all the good chips and left only pretzels, and civil war was imminent.
Beck kissed her forehead one last time and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Ingrid still grinning like an idiot.
"Glad to finally end your suffering," she said dryly to Finn.
"I appreciate the apology," Finn said solemnly. "But honestly? I think I’m owed financial compensation for the emotional damage you two have inflicted."
"You’re such an idiot," Ingrid said, shaking her head.
"You pronounced ‘genius’ wrong, but it’s fine. Words are hard," Finn said, utterly unbothered, before pulling her into a hug.
He pulled back, studying her with mock seriousness. "For real, though. You were spectacular out there. I genuinely thought you might dance like Elaine from Seinfeld. You know, full-body dry heaving set to music."
“You should’ve come to see me dance sooner,” she said, arching a brow. “Might’ve spared yourself the humiliation of ever thinking otherwise.”
Finn sighed, sounding thoroughly put-upon. "Hey, I got shipped off with Daddy Beck during the divorce, and let me tell you, that man is the human equivalent of putting on jeans right after a hot shower. Absolute buzzkill."
He paused, before his voice softened.
"I know that I joke a lot," he said, almost shyly, "but I really am happy for you two."
Ingrid tilted her head, studying him as his usual smirk gave way to something more genuine.
"I’ve known him a long time," Finn went on. "And after you two broke up... he wasn’t the same. Sure, he got sober, got his life together, but there was always this loneliness hanging over him. I could feel it."
Ingrid followed his gaze across the room. Beck was laughing with Ronan, eyes crinkled, head thrown back like the sound had caught him by surprise. He looked lighter. Brighter. Like a weight had finally let go.
"That?" Finn said, nodding toward him. "That’s the version of him we haven’t seen in years. He used to just get through the day. Now he actually lives it."
She knew that version of herself too well, the one who smiled out of habit, who mistook numbness for peace. For years, she had been coasting on empty.
"I get it," she murmured. "More than you know."
"I’m sure you do," he said with a wink. "Now come on. Let’s go stop Reef from eating an entire wheel of cheese unsupervised. Also, he 100% ate those fancy chips. No remorse."
Laughing, they crossed the room toward Reef and Eden, who were deep in some lively debate.
"I bet she’d wipe the floor with him," Reef said, eyes gleaming like he was just begging someone to argue.
"She’s got that vibe," Eden agreed. "Like, any second now, she could just Hulk out."
"Yeah, maybe keep her away from gamma radiation," Reef muttered, shooting Sadie a wary glance.
Ingrid followed their stares and found Sadie eyeing Quentin across the room with laser focus.
Quentin was oblivious, helping a dancer mop up a spilled drink, looking like the literal embodiment of kindness and good intentions.
Ingrid waved Sadie over before her internal monologue turned into a physical confrontation.
"So, what’s going on with you and Quentin?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "He’s like a golden retriever in human form, but you look at him like he’s wagging his way straight into a restraining order."
Sadie rolled her eyes. "More like a golden retriever with a superiority complex. He’s a total phony. It grinds my gears. Burns my toast. Curdles my oat milk."
"Better get used to the grinding and burning," Eden teased, laughing. "Maybe invest in some WD-40 before you two start filming together in Montana."
"Don’t remind me," Sadie groaned. "Months. I’m stuck with that walking PR campaign. It’s my personal nightmare."
"Come on, it won’t be that bad," Reef said, nudging her. "Quentin’s actually great once you get past the whole... Boy Scout thing."
"Yeah, right," Sadie muttered, folding her arms across her chest. "What are the odds we’d end up on the same damn movie?"
"Pretty high," Eden said lightly. "You’re one of the best special effects makeup artists in the industry, and he’s basically Hollywood’s golden boy."
"Yeah, I think he won a Grammy or something," Reef added, with a shrug.