Epilogue Ivy
L auren arrived twenty minutes early, her arms full of coloring books and snacks for the triplets. She'd been more excited about tonight than I was, practically bouncing when Duncan called to ask if she could babysit.
"You look beautiful," she whispered as Duncan helped me into my coat. His hand found the small of my back, and I felt that familiar flutter of anticipation.
"Where are we going?" I asked for the third time as we stepped outside.
"You'll see." His smile held secrets, and I caught the reflection of it in the passenger window as Boston's lights blurred past us.
The city looked different at night—softer somehow, all golden glow and possibility.
Duncan's hand rested on my knee as he drove, his thumb tracing small circles through the fabric of my dress.
I'd chosen the navy blue one he'd complimented weeks ago, the one that made me feel confident and feminine without trying too hard.
When we pulled up to the building downtown, I recognized it immediately. The Meridian Tower, one of the tallest buildings in the city, with a restaurant on the fifty-second floor that I'd heard about but never imagined visiting.
"Duncan, this is too much," I started, but he was already out of the car, handing his keys to the valet.
"Nothing's too much for you," he said, taking my hand. "Not anymore."
The elevator ride felt endless, my stomach fluttering with more than just the altitude.
When the doors opened, I stepped into a world of warm light and breathtaking views.
The restaurant was intimate, with maybe twenty tables scattered across the space, each one positioned to take advantage of the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Our table sat near the edge, the city spread out below us in a carpet of twinkling lights. The harbor stretched into darkness, and I could see the faint outline of planes taking off from Logan Airport in the distance.
"This is incredible," I breathed, settling into my chair.
Duncan ordered wine—a bottle I'd never heard of but tasted expensive—and we fell into easy conversation. He told me about the first time he'd eaten here, years ago, when he'd been trying to impress a client. How he'd been so nervous he'd barely tasted the food.
"And now?" I asked, taking a sip of wine that was definitely too good for my usual Tuesday night.
"Now I'm nervous for entirely different reasons." His blue eyes caught the candlelight, and I saw something vulnerable there that made my chest tighten.
Dinner was perfect—courses that arrived beautifully arranged, each bite better than the last. Duncan insisted I try the lobster risotto, then laughed when I closed my eyes at the first taste.
He told me about his plans to step back from the company, how he wanted to spend more time with the children, with me.
"I want to teach Sammy to throw a football," he said, cutting into his steak. "Take Elena to the aquarium. Show Chrissy how to build things."
"They'd love that," I said, warmth spreading through my chest at the image.
"What about you?" he asked. "What do you want?"
The question caught me off guard. I'd spent so long focusing on what everyone else needed that I'd forgotten to ask myself.
"I want to stop running," I said finally. "I want to have a family, a nice home… Stability for me and the kids."
His hand covered mine across the table, and I felt the calluses on his palm, the steady warmth of his skin.
Dessert was chocolate soufflé that dissolved on my tongue, paired with champagne that made everything feel golden and possible. When the waiter cleared our plates, Duncan stood and extended his hand.
"Walk with me?"
I let him guide me toward the edge of the rooftop, where a small terrace extended beyond the main dining area. String lights flickered overhead, and the night air was crisp against my cheeks. The city stretched endlessly below us, alive and pulsing with energy.
Duncan stopped near the railing and turned to face me, taking both my hands in his. His expression was serious now, intense in a way that made my heart race.
"Ivy," he began, his voice rough with emotion. "The moment I saw you walk into my office, my entire future shifted. I'd spent years convincing myself I didn't want love, didn't need a family, didn't deserve the kind of life other people got to have."
I opened my mouth to speak, but he shook his head gently.
"Let me finish," he said. "For years, I told myself I was better alone.
That I was too old, too set in my ways, too damaged by what happened before.
I had my exit strategy planned— early retirement, a quiet life away from all of this.
" He gestured toward the city lights. "But then you came back, and everything changed. "
My throat tightened, and I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes.
"I'm scared," he continued, his thumbs brushing across my knuckles.
"Scared of failing you, of not being enough, of you realizing you deserve better than a man who's made as many mistakes as I have.
But I also know there's no one else I want to try with.
No one else who has ever made the idea of forever feel not only possible but real. "
He released one of my hands and reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small velvet box. My breath caught as he dropped to one knee, the city lights creating a halo around him.
"Ivy Whitmore," he said, opening the box to reveal a ring that caught the light and scattered it into tiny rainbows. "Will you marry me? Will you let me spend the rest of my life proving that I'm worthy of you and those beautiful children?"
The ring was perfect—a classic solitaire with a band that would fit snugly against my finger. But it wasn't the ring that made my heart race. It was the man holding it, the man who'd forgiven me for my mistakes, who'd shown me that one bad choice doesn't have to affect your whole future.
"Yes," I whispered, then louder, "Yes, Duncan. Yes."
He slipped the ring onto my finger with shaking hands, then stood and pulled me into his arms. The kiss was gentle at first, then deeper, full of promise and hope and all the tomorrows we were finally brave enough to claim.
When we broke apart, I looked down at the ring sparkling on my finger, then up at the man who'd just asked me to spend forever with him.
"I love you," I said, the words feeling both new and ancient on my tongue.
"I love you too," he replied, his forehead resting against mine. "All of you. Always."
Below us, the city sparkled with endless possibility, and for the first time in years, I wasn't afraid of what came next.