20. Epilogue Theo
Epilogue: Theo
[ Three Months Later ]
With a grunt, I lift a box full of books onto the desk so that I can start unpacking them onto the built-in shelves—one of the many charming features of my new apartment in Boston’s Back Bay.
It’s mid-September, and the city is a pleasant contradiction. The nights are already chilled enough for the leaves to have started turning, but the days remain stubbornly sunny and warm. I have all the windows open, coaxing in the balmy breeze as I start tackling the many boxes piled in towers all around me. The breeze brings in the aroma of fried food from the Irish pub down the road, the vaguely dusty scent of sunbaked asphalt, and the faint smell of the harbor at the edge of the city.
I only arrived about three hours ago. The movers have just left. Stacy isn’t expecting me to stop by the office for another week.
And yet, I’m no longer alone.
Because as soon as I crack open the box of books, a car horn honks loudly outside on the street. Somehow, I already know it’s her.
With a grin, I move toward the window and lean out to find a tall, dark-haired tornado of a woman leaning casually against the side of her crookedly parked car.
Lucy smiles up at me from two stories below. “Parallel parking isn’t my strong suit.”“Nobody’s perfect,” I respond.
She twirls her keys around her index finger. “Are you going to invite me inside or what?”
“What are you, a vampire? The door’s open!”
I hear the echoes of her laughter bouncing between the brick townhouses as I duck back inside.
I make it to my front door before she does, but only barely, because mere seconds after pulling it open, Lucy is throwing herself into my arms. I catch her easily and spin her around, earning a surprised squeal.
“Put me down! You’re too tall!”
I do as she says, but I keep my arms wrapped around her waist. “You’re also quite tall, Lucy.”
“Slightly taller than average for a woman, yeah. You’re just an abomination, though.”
“Our kids are going to be gangly freaks.”
As soon as I say it, I nearly cringe. Our kids ? Goodness, we’ve only been together for three months. She’s going to think I’m insane.
Except, all Lucy does is throw her head back and let out a bright peal of laughter.
“You’re right.” She sighs, throwing her arms around my neck.
I smile when I catch sight of the necklace she’s wearing. It’s a thin silver chain with three tiny stones hanging from it: a pearl, a garnet, and a rose quartz. Tiny versions of what the wise woman of the beach slipped into my pocket on the night of Josie and Elijah’s wedding.
Lucy giggles. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
“Because you’re pretty.”
She rolls her eyes, but there’s a smile on her lips. “Are you in love with me yet?”
It’s a game we started playing after our declarations in the Blakeley Manor supply closet. I want to fall in love with you , I had told her. The next morning, the first thing she asked me was if I was in love with her yet. Maybe just a tiny bit , I answered. Then, when I asked her the same question, she shrugged and replied, Almost .
Over the past three months, of which we’ve spent most of the time apart thanks to how much unexpected preparation it took for me to sell my house, pack up my life, and head east, we continued playing the game. Are you in love with me yet? sent via text message and whispered into the phone and scribbled on corny postcards from our respective hometowns.
Almost , she would always say.
Maybe just a tiny bit, I would always answer.
But, this time, I say, “Most definitely, yes.”
Lucy’s eyes widen in surprise. “What?”
“I’m in love with you, Lucy Montgomery.”
She gapes at me. I think I’ve actually rendered her speechless, and I feel oddly proud about it.
“But you haven’t seen me since, like, the beginning of August,” she protests weakly. Not since I bought her a flight for her to come out and visit me in Los Angeles for a long weekend. Honestly, I knew I loved her back then. If my parents hadn’t been out of town to film (two different) movies, I would have introduced Lucy to them right then and there. If only so that I could announce to someone that this girl is the light of my life.
“What does that have to do with me being in love with you or not?”
Lucy blinks. “I don’t know.”
“It’s true.”
“Are you sure?”
I walk her backwards toward the sofa, the only piece of furniture available to sit on at the moment. I lower myself onto it and then pull her into my lap.
“Of course, I’m sure. I love you.”
“But—”
“I love you,” I repeat. “You were right. It’s very easy to do. Loving you is no difficult thing, Lucy. I would have started doing it years ago if I’d known how nice it would be.”
Lucy continues to stare at me. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her at such a loss for words. I have to admit that I’m a little shocked, too. Just over three months ago, if you had told me I’d be moving to the other side of the country and saying things like I’m in love with you to someone—let alone Lucy, of all people—I’d never believe it.
How is it possible for one person to change so dramatically in such a short amount of time? Does it really come down to the simple, corny answer that love makes all things possible?
My entire life, I never believed that true love was real. It’s just a chemical reaction, just a mixture of hormones, I’d tell myself. It’s just physical attraction and lust and biological impulses all mixed into one. Love was not some indomitable force that could overcome all odds; it was a gimmick tossed into books and movies to make people feel less miserable about their dull lives.
I had been one of those miserable people. But now, I know that love is real. I feel it. I might not be able to exactly describe it, but I know that it’s love I feel when my chest squeezes with affection at the way Lucy’s nose scrunches when she smiles. I know it’s love when all I want to do is listen to her voice or kiss her until we’re both breathless or turn the world inside out if only to amuse her.
I know it’s love because when I think of my future, she is there in every single scene. She’s there, driving up to Boston on the weekends to see me or meeting me at the door when I drive to Mermaid Shores to see her. She’s there when I picture us reaching the stage where we move in together and bicker about paint colors and fight for our fair share of the duvet each night. She’s there when I imagine what sort of engagement ring I’d pick out for her. She’s there, walking down the aisle toward me at our quaint backyard wedding, or the massive, absurdly expensive wedding, or maybe even the frivolous destination wedding in a tropical location. Whatever she wants, really.
She’s there in my future as the mother of my kids. We laugh at our wrinkles together and tease each other for the grays that start growing on our heads.
When I picture my future, it is Lucy. Always Lucy.
Except, right now, I’m starting to think that I’ve gotten way ahead of myself. I’ve dived in headfirst way before Lucy is ready to consider that our little game is anything more than a fun back-and-forth. I’ve jumped the gun. I’ve ruined it all.
She still has her arms draped around my shoulders and she’s staring very intently at my face, so that’s promising. At least she’s not screaming and running away.
“You’re in love with me?” Lucy breathes.
“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way,” I tell her. Even as I say it, though, my hands tighten on her hips as if that will prevent her from drifting away from me when all is said and done. “I mean that. I didn’t say it just now because I was expecting to get the same response from you. I just really wanted to tell you how I feel. Because you deserve to know. And because I’m happy about it. Loving you makes me really happy, Lucy.”
Her dark, almost-black eyes are shimmering with tears.
The worst has happened. I’ve made her cry. She’s so upset by this rapid development in our relationship that she’s going to start crying.
Maybe I should’ve waited. Maybe she drove all this way to tell me that she’s actually not sure she wants to fall in love with me anymore, and I’ve gone and made it awkward by blurting out my feelings at the first possible opportunity.
“Theo,” she whispers.
And then she kisses me.
Sweet and slow like a summer sunrise, Lucy tells me all the things she can’t figure out how to say with her kisses alone. I lose myself in her for long minutes, which could easily turn into hours or days or months or years for all I care. When I am with her, I don’t care about trivial things like the passage of time. Yes, technically speaking, we do have a dinner reservation to get to tonight, but if all Lucy wants to do is kiss me until the moon rises, I’m perfectly okay with that.
When she breaks the kiss, she stays close, her lips hovering a hairsbreadth away from mine.
“I love you, Theo.”
At first, I’m not sure I hear her properly. Her voice is so soft, almost shy.
“What was that?” I reply.
“I’m in love with you.”
“You don’t have to be.”
“I want to be.”
“You’re not just saying it?”
Lucy kisses me again. Fiercely, like she’s annoyed that I’d even suggest she’d fib about something like this. No, you idiot , she seems to say. I mean it with my whole heart .
I pull her closer and answer with a kiss of my own. I’ve never been happier .
More minutes pass. Centuries. Eons.
When we finally pull ourselves apart, Lucy is smiling. “I think I like being in love. It feels kind of ridiculous, but in a nice way. It makes me want to climb on your rooftop and shout to the entire neighborhood that I’m in love. I want to tell strangers about it. I want to walk around Boston and say, ‘Hey, everyone. This is Theo Danvers, and I’m in love with him.’”
I burst out laughing. I knew she wouldn’t be speechless for long.
“As sweet as that is, I’m not sure the people of Boston will care all that much.”
“I’ll make them care,” Lucy promises. Then, with a gasp, she hops up from my lap and claps her hands together. “I forgot! I brought you a present!”
“A present?”
She scurries over to where she dropped her duffel bag by the door right before she jumped into my waiting arms.
“Close your eyes!” she commands.
I do as she says. I hear the zipper slide open, some rustling cloth, and then Lucy’s bare feet padding back over to me. The sofa cushions sinks as she sits down beside me.
“Can I open my eyes now?”
“Yep.”
In her hands is a neon green throw pillow with a familiar logo of two pine trees and a log cabin, the words Camp Hannefort printed in slightly faded black above it.
“What on earth is that?”
Lucy snickers. “A housewarming present!”
“Where did you even get that?”
“I made it! Out of one of my old camp t-shirts!”
“You actually kept those shirts?”
“Of course, I did. For the memories, and for opportunities like this, obviously.”
I snort loudly, taking the pillow from her. It’s a vaguely lopsided rectangle, hinting that Lucy probably isn’t the most skilled with a sewing machine, but I feel my heart swelling over this gift anyway. It’s silly, and it’s not like Camp Hannefort is the most cheerful place on earth. However, it’s the place where we met. The place where we fell in hate, then later looked back on to realize we were better off falling in love.
“Do you like it?” Lucy asks.
“It’s the best present I’ve ever received,” I tell her, and I’m pretty sure I mean it. “I just can’t believe you’re expecting me to keep a neon green pillow on my trendy beige couch. Plus, when I have guests over, I’ll have to explain that it’s a keepsake from divorce camp .”
Lucy cackles. “Well, hey, if we ever get divorced one day, at least we know where to send our kids.”
I gape at her for half a second, and then I’m laughing. She starts laughing with me, collapsing into my lap with uncontrollable giggles.
“Don’t even joke about that,” I tell her between snickers.
Lucy smacks me playfully in the chest with the pillow. “Don’t worry. Now that I’m in love with you, you’re stuck with me. They’ll have to invent something stronger than divorce if you ever want to get rid of me.”
“Is that a threat?”
“It’s a promise.”
I pull her close. “I’ll hold you to it, Lucy.”
She smiles into the kiss I press to her lips. “I hope you do, Theo.”
The End