Epilogue
Teagan
Yet another engagement party.
Practically everyone I know will be there, including the guys. I haven’t seen most of them in a year, not since Ryan’s wedding, and it has been for the best. Taking a step back from them, even Ryan, was the easiest way to protect my peace through what was by far my most difficult year of school. But we will be together tonight to celebrate another milestone, the same way we always have and possibly always will. Maybe distance makes the heart less prone to homicidal thoughts.
I can’t decide on a dress. It’s as if I’m going through a checklist of stressors just so I can be upset with something . Hate my hair? Check. Wait until the last minute to pick a dress? Check. Get pissed about having to go at all? Check-ity fucking check. Finally, I snatch one from the hanger and step into it.
“If you’re putting on the green dress, we are going to fight,” Levi yells from my bedroom.
I stare at the green silk in my hands. “I’m not!”
“Oh my god, Teagan. Put on the one I got you!”
I roll my eyes and hang the dress back up. The green one is beautiful and subtle. The one Levi got me screams Look at me! at a four-thousand-dollar volume. At least he listened to me and rented it for a somewhat tolerable price, but it’s still ridiculous. I’m looking forward to the day when everyone I know is in the divorce stage of life so I no longer have to stress over the shape and color of overpriced cloth in my parents’ house. But it doesn’t seem like that will happen anytime soon.
The silk feels cold when it slides up my legs. Your girl loves a backless, floor-length gown with sleeves, but the color and little train are doing a little too much. It says I’m excited to be here when, really, I’m not.
I hold the front of the dress against my chest while I walk out. Levi nods with a sheepish smile—so proud of himself—while Rowan sits next to him on my bed, silent but grinning. My nose scrunches into a sneer.
“Don’t start, Teags. You look amazing.”
“Ugh.”
“I said don’t start!”
Rowan covers his laugh with a hand. He is thriving—glowing, even—his joy coming easier with every new month of his gap year. Out of the shadow of his overachieving sister and medal-winning Paralympian brother, he is taking his time, finding himself, and it looks amazing on him.
“Levi’s right. You look beautiful, sis.”
The smile plastered on his face makes my lips twitch up, but I won’t give Levi the satisfaction.
Levi slides a crystal bracelet onto my wrist and sets some heels in front of me. As annoying as he is, I trust him.
“You know, I really didn’t think Heath would ever do it,” Levi says.
“Do what?”
“Want to get married. And so soon.” It’s as if he is trying to give me another reason not to go.
“Yeah, well . . . he’s always full of surprises. Fix this, please.”
He finishes buckling the strap of the second shoe around my ankle. I take another look at myself in the mirror.
“You don’t think it’s too much?” I ask again.
“I know it’s not too much. Now, let’s go.”
~
I don’t want to be here , I complain in my head.
Slipping inside unnoticed, I duck into the back hallway and make my way upstairs. The empty art gallery looks small at first, but the lofted space and balcony provide more than enough room for however many people were invited to this gaudy bullshit. They dimmed the lighting to calming levels, but the fans of red uplighting against the walls adds unnecessary drama.
When I look over, I see him.
Heath laughs with his small circle of family and friends, looking exceptionally dapper in his tux. My body aches for him as I stand awkwardly, not wanting to call attention or interrupt. When he spots me, his expression melts and he comes over.
“There you are.”
“Here I am.”
With a delicate touch, he pulls my face closer. His warm, lingering kiss calms me.
He pulls away and gives me a dreamy grin. His eyebrows rise when he steps back and looks me over. “You look hot .”
“Shut up. I knew this dress was ridiculous.”
“Levi picked it?”
“Of course.”
He laughs at my expense. “What’s with the mood?” I kiss him again rather than answering. He pulls away with a chuckle. “You can’t shit all over your own engagement party.”
I give him the side-eye. “Watch me.”
“Babe, your parents are excited and want to celebrate you.”
“But I didn’t do anything! The one thing that took me zero effort is the thing they decide to make the biggest deal about. Graduating, passing the bar—”
“They’re trying,” he cuts in. “This is the best they could do and that’s more than they’ve ever done before. Just let it happen.”
That’s true. Whether they listened to me or Heath’s reemergence into our lives finally pushed them over the edge, they’ve been better. They are being cognizant of the words they say, acknowledging their harmful actions from the past, and have let Rowan make choices for himself while withholding whatever opinions they may have. It’s an improvement, however small.
Tonight is the first time they’ve pressured me into doing something since I blew up on them last summer, and all they were asking was for me to let them throw us this party. They still haven’t figured me out, but to be fair, it took me a while to do the same.
I’m still seeing a therapist alongside Heath’s mom. She is doing much better, no slipups or regression since starting her regular sessions, and it’s been so healthy for their whole family. Even Heath’s dad has been softer on him. With Mama healthy again, it gives them fewer reasons to butt heads. Nothing with either of our families is perfect, but it doesn’t need to be.
I hug Heath close again. “You know I’m happy, right? Under all the complaining.”
There’s a dreamy look in his gray eyes when he says, “Of course I do.”
“And you know I would marry you tomorrow—I would have married you yesterday, today, a year ago. So why do we have to have all these fucking parties?”
“It’s a few hours, Teags. Let people have their fun. All you have to do is hold my hand, get drunk, and show people your ring.”
I give it another glance. The sapphire-cut diamond with filigree flowers connecting it to the band sparkles in the low lighting. In all honesty, it is hard not to stare at it constantly. It’s just so damn shiny. I would be mad about how big it is, but it is his mother’s ring. Seeing how happy it made her to pass it to me made it that much more special.
“Can we discuss eloping again?” I ask. His eye-squinting laugh brightens my mood.
“I love you,” he says.
“I love you more.”
“Impossible.”
He kisses me passionately. I melt when he hums against my lips, and we get a little too carried away.
“Do you want to find a closet somewhere?” he asks with a mischievous smile. “For old time’s sake?”
“Are you offering me sex at an engagement party?” He nods slowly, that goofy smile plastered on his face. I chuckle, feeling lighter than I have all day. “Let’s fucking go.”
Looking down at the crowd who has yet to see us, Heath laces his fingers through mine and pulls me with him. Around the corner, we go down a hall and find an off-limits storage room.
We wrap ourselves up in one another, my body heating with every taste of his tongue, every movement of his erection growing against my stomach. His hand reaches up my skirt to pull down my panties. I lick my lips as I unfasten his belt.
“Teags? Teags!” Levi swings open the door. “Dad says the champagne toasts are—” He stops when he sees what’s happening, looking back and forth between us. “Y’all are nasty.”
He leaves. Heath laughs against my lips, and we get back to business.
~
The next morning, I’m hungover as hell, hiding it the best I can behind a pair of shades and a bottle of electrolyte water. I swear the cab hits every bump and pothole in Manhattan.
“Feeling good?” Heath teases me.
“Shut up.”
“You can stop here,” he tells the driver. He pulls to the curb two blocks from the building. We climb out and the chill of an early-fall breeze instantly helps.
We hold hands while walking up the sidewalk. People give us discerning looks as we pass by. Our accidentally coordinating outfits, his effortlessly handsome existence, my remnants of yesterday’s professional hairstyle—I can admit we give power couple vibes. We’re cute or whatever.
The building checks boxes right away. Doorman, elevator, quiet neighbors.
“Welcome in.” The Realtor greets us, handing us a flier with the apartment’s details. “Let me show you around.”
We follow, and I’m half listening, half willing my headache to go away. It’s beautiful, just like the three we visited last weekend, but something feels different about this one.
“It’s three bedrooms, two baths, with an en suite for the primary bedroom. The previous owner put in new appliances, floors . . .” They continue on but my mind drifts. As we walk around, I get a sense of déjà vu.
The single-line kitchen and island right off the entryway, the straight path through to the living space, the wall of picture windows behind it overlooking the city—finally, it clicks.
I pull Heath’s hand, keeping him in the kitchen with me. “This is it,” I tell him.
He snakes his arms around my waist. “You like it?”
“It’s more than that. This is the place I always pictured we’d be.” I look around the space again, the image filling my mind as if it’s happening right in front of me. “This is the table I sit at when I bring work home over the weekends. That’s the living room where you chase the kids around.” My eyes well with tears. “This is the kitchen where I remember how long I’ve loved you, then kiss you when no one’s looking.”
His brow furrows over his smile. “Babe, that was romantic as hell. Are you still drunk?”
I smack a weak hand against his chest.
His playful tease melts into a smile. “I want all of those things too,” he says. “This place is ours. I’ll make sure of that.”
I run my fingers against the back of his neck, staring into his gray eyes. “I know you will.”
“Hey.” He nudges me. “No one’s looking right now.”
I smile and pull him into a kiss.
It’s funny to think how much difference twelve months can make. It took six years for us to come back to each other, six years to grow and heal from the past, six years we will never get back. But now I know it happened for a reason.
It gave us time to become the people we needed to be for ourselves and for each other. Better versions of those lost kids, newly assured in our identities, more understanding of our shortcomings and our fears—emotionally prepared to be together through it all.
With Heath, the hard times hurt half as much and the good times feel twice as nice. I look at him now and all I can think is, Holy shit, we are never breaking up .