Epilogue #2
When our food comes out, Archie tucks into the Plank Walk Pancake Stack because he has no instinct for self-preservation when it comes to themed menu items. Vaughn got a burger, which feels deliberately rebellious in a pancake restaurant.
Billy has ordered something with enough protein to fuel a small army, because Billy.
“So I hear the bubble machine incident made TikTok,” Andrew says.
I close my eyes. “Who told you?”
“Archie sent the video to our group chat,” Justin says.
“Eleven thousand views,” Archie says proudly.
“I was ambushed by a malfunctioning bubble machine while wearing a dinosaur suit. That’s not content. That’s a workplace injury.”
“You slipped on the bubbles and did a full split,” Billy says. “That’s impressive flexibility for a man your age.”
“I’m thirty-one.”
“Like I said.”
“The real highlight was when Snugglesaurus went down and all the kids dogpiled on top of him,” Archie says. “One of them tried to ride him like a horse.”
“She nearly broke my spine.”
“She was five, Leo.”
“She had the grip strength of someone twice her size. Billy, you’d have been impressed.”
“I am impressed. We should get her into boot camp.”
I sit back and let the noise wash over me as they continue to discuss Billy’s plan to create a kids’ boot camp, which Archie immediately tries to rebrand as “Tiny Titans,” and Jaymee vetoes on the grounds that no child should be subjected to Billy’s warm-up routine.
A year ago, I didn’t have this—a table full of people I actually wanted to spend time with, in a city that was starting to feel like home.
After Archie came to see me in Detroit, I only went back to San Francisco for two weeks to sort out logistics before permanently relocating to London to be with him. It was actually a good strategic move for my business because it enabled me to expand my European client base.
But somehow, I’m still regularly climbing into the Snugglesaurus and Sparkle McHornface costumes to help Archie out on the weekends.
Somehow, I’m in a relationship where embarrassing costumes count as foreplay.
The rest of dinner passes the way all birthday parties should, overlapping conversations, stolen food, and at least one argument about whether the mechanical parrot counts as ambiance or a health hazard.
Archie is in his element, orbiting between every conversation at the table like a satellite that refuses to commit to a single trajectory.
At one point, he has Billy and Vaughn in stitches over something I miss because Justin is telling me about a recent sales pitch of his that went spectacularly wrong.
But when Trevor comes out with the dessert menus, Jaymee starts to gather her stuff.
“Right, as this is both your birthday and your anniversary dinner, we’re going to leave you two to have a romantic dessert.”
She pulls Archie into a hug. “Happy birthday, you ridiculous human.”
Billy claps him on the shoulder with enough force to rattle the table. “Core strength, mate. You took that well.”
Andrew and Justin also head out, Andrew reminding us about dinner at their place on Friday. And Vaughn leaves with the promise to catch up with Archie in the morning.
After everyone leaves, Archie shifts closer to me in the booth. His head finds my shoulder.
“Thank you for coming back here,” he says.
“You didn’t give me a choice. You sent me a calendar invitation titled Anniversary Dinner (nonnegotiable) with the location already pinned.”
“That’s called organization. You should appreciate it. You’re a consultant.”
“I appreciate it when it doesn’t involve restaurants with fog machines.”
He laughs. “What do you want for dessert?”
I end up getting the lemon tart again because I’m a man of habit and never actually got to eat it the first time.
It’s surprisingly good, but Archie’s Shipwreck Sundae looks like a natural disaster rendered in chocolate and ice cream, with a fondant anchor sticking out of it at an angle that suggests the ship didn’t make it.
“You’ve got chocolate on your nose,” I say.
“It adds character.” He swipes at it and misses entirely. “Did I get it?”
“No.”
“Now?”
“Worse.”
I reach across and wipe it off with my thumb. His skin is warm under my fingertip, and he goes still for half a second, looking up at me with those wide hazel eyes. I’m suddenly very aware of how much I love this ridiculous man in this ridiculous restaurant.
He tilts his head to look up at me. “Getting sentimental, Brennan?”
“Absolutely not. I’m here for the lemon tart.”
“I knew it. Our entire relationship is built on citrus-based dessert.”
“And maple syrup.”
“The two great pillars of romance.”
Archie laughs. Then his eyes light up as he notices the box next to the table.
“Look, a prop box! Oh, I forgot about this. How cool is it?”
I recognize the prop box from last year. It’s still overflowing with plastic swords, eye patches, and assorted pirate paraphernalia that no self-respecting adult should ever interact with.
A year ago, Ezra tried to put a pirate hat on my head, and I resisted with my whole being.
Now, I reach into the box to put on the pirate hat and an eyepatch because I know it will make my boyfriend smile. Archie dives into the box himself, emerging with a hook hand and a bandanna.
“If we’re doing this, we’re doing it properly,” he says, fixing the bandanna over his hair and brandishing the hook. “Captain Giggles goes on vacation. Tonight, I’m Captain Mansley, scourge of the seven seas.”
“You look ridiculous.”
“We both look ridiculous. That’s the point.” He hooks his plastic hand through my arm. “We match.”
“We do match,” I agree.
“Happy anniversary of the worst revenge plot in recorded history,” he says.
“I’d argue it turned out reasonably well.”
“You broke my ankle.”
“You got a boyfriend out of it.”
“And a research career studying why children find you dressed as a dinosaur so hilarious.”
“Sadly, you have a robust sample size to work with.”
He laughs, and I feel it vibrate against my shoulder.
My phone buzzes.
I pull it out and glance at the screen. It’s a message from Gus.
I’ve finally found him. He’s in London. I’m coming over.
I stare at the message for a moment.
“What is it?” Archie asks.
“Just one of my clients who is about to make a very familiar mistake. Remember how I told you about Gus, the guy who got catfished?”
“Has he tracked the person down?”
“Apparently.”
Archie’s eyes widen slightly. Then he grins. “Oh, this is going to be interesting.”
He’s not wrong.
I type back.
Let’s meet to discuss before you do anything.
The reply is immediate.
I’ll contact you when I land.
I put my phone down.
“You’re worried about him,” Archie says.
“I’m not worried. I’m resigned.” I look at the message one more time. “Some lessons need to be learned the hard way.”
“Revenge worked out pretty well for us,” Archie says, poking me in the ribs. “Look what I ended up with. A boyfriend in a pirate hat.” He tilts his face up to kiss me. It’s brief, sweet, and tastes like chocolate syrup.
The mechanical parrot shrieks and the ship’s deck begins its half-hourly tilt, causing a chorus of shrieks and laughter from the patrons above us.
A year ago, I sat in this restaurant and thought I’d died and gone to hell.
Now I’m slightly more sentimental about this place.
I adjust my pirate hat and lean over to kiss my boyfriend again.