Epilogue
Jason
Two Years Later
“That’s a mighty fine ass you’ve got there, sir.”
I’m standing on a ladder, scraping away at the window trim on my latest project, a three-bedroom fixer-upper in Carroll Gardens, one of my favorite neighborhoods in Brooklyn.
Below, Vanessa’s playfully leering at me, her bouncy curls held back from her face with a turquoise headband.
She’s a day lounging beneath the Caribbean sun personified.
“Say that again,” I tell her.
“What?”
“Sir.”
“Ooh, you’re kinky too. There’s still so much to learn about you, Mr. Torres.”
“I was thinking the same about you.”
In the two years we’ve been together, I’ve learned a lot about this woman—yes, spiders truly do make her skin crawl—but what I’ve learned isn’t enough.
It’s never going to be enough either. Every little discovery about Vanessa—her quirks, her fears, her flaws, her down-to-the-core goodness—is a treasure.
Well, almost every one of them. I’ll confess I’m sad she really does wear sweats and pink goo on her face to bed.
But it’s all right, because I get to peel those sweats off her body every night, and seeing what’s hidden underneath is like receiving a favorite gift at Christmas three hundred sixty-five times a year.
She holds up a bag. “Ready to take a break? I brought your favorite sushi.”
“Yeah, I’d love that.”
I climb down, set my scraper on the stoop, and pull Vanessa in for a kiss.
She hums into my mouth, tasting sweet as always.
“Jolly Rancher?”
She nods. “Apple, of course.” Then she looks up at the building’s facade. “It’s coming along nicely.”
“Still got a ways to go. Eric’s trying to convince the owner to sell it to him.”
“Will they?”
“Don’t think so. This is a huge investment. Especially in this neighborhood. Anyone would be out of their minds to give it up.”
“Especially when you’re done with it.”
“That’s the hope.”
I spread out a piece of builder’s paper so we can sit on the steps while Vanessa preps our lunch. After we’re situated, she sits next to me, close enough that the side of her thigh touches mine.
She hands me Purell, and I sanitize my hands.
“I can’t stay long,” she says. “Silas is on my butt about finishing the proposal for Carnegie.”
That’s one of the big changes in our lives.
Vanessa left her job at Meridian Financial and now works as an independent grant specialist for nonprofits in New York.
Silas hired her first, but she’s steadily building an impressive clientele and says her new career fulfills her in a way her old job never did.
And because she didn’t want David Warner to harass anyone else, she included plenty of receipts with her resignation letter.
She says my and her family’s supportive reaction to the situation emboldened her to take that step.
We don’t know precisely what happened to David, but we do know he’s no longer managing the Chicago office.
“How’s Silas doing lately? I need to check in with him about internships for next summer.”
“He’s good. Still overwhelmed but happy about it. The funding’s finally coming in.”
“Thanks to you,” I say, bumping her shoulder.
“And all of his hard work.” She grabs a piece of sushi with her chopsticks. Before she pops it into her mouth, she says, “So what time are you and Nelson heading over to the Garden?”
“Tip-off is at eight o’clock. We’re planning to meet at six forty-five.
” That’s another change: my relationship with Nelson.
I’m finally treating him the way I should have been treating him all those years ago: like a true father figure.
Except we’re doing this differently and making new sports traditions.
Not sure the Knicks are going to come through for us, but we’re giving it a shot.
“My mother says I need to have him back by eleven.”
Vanessa knows my mother well now, so her playful grimace doesn’t bother me one bit. “Speaking of, she called me this morning. Said the holidays will be here before we know it and offered to teach me how to make pernil.”
“What’d you tell her?”
“That you could make pernil just fine, and I didn’t need any lessons. I think she’s still hoping I made up that bit about not knowing how to cook. I told her I was very much not to be trusted in the kitchen.”
“It’s true. You’re a disaster.”
She jostles me with her shoulder. “Rude.”
“The truth hurts, doesn’t it?”
“You’re right. Sometimes it does.”
Yeah, but love and forgiveness can help heal the pain. Not always, but sometimes. At least that’s what my therapist says. I chuckle. “You know, your parents trashed your cooking too. Warned me you might burn us out of house and home.”
“My parents?” she asks, drawing back, her brow furrowed.
Shit. I squeeze my eyes shut, mentally scolding myself for that slipup. I guess we’re doing this now. “Yeah, your parents. I talked to them this morning. Wasn’t going to do this today, but I wanted to ask them for their blessing.” I clear my throat. “To marry you.”
Her jaw drops. “You want to marry me?”
“More than anything else in the world.”
“Jason.”
“Vanessa.”
“Jason.”
“And I was thinking we could live here,” I say, pointing behind me. “In this three-bedroom brownstone that’s just waiting for Denise and Lisa’s future children to run around inside when they visit.”
Because yeah, they figured their shit out and realized they’re made for each other. As for Cami and Bryan, those two are still in Chile and have no plans for children anytime soon, if at all. They say they’re happy to teach children all day and send them home to their parents every evening.
“How could we live here?” she asks, her voice pitched high.
“I’m the investor. Bought this place three months ago. As a surprise for you. If you don’t like it, I can sell it to Eric, but I was hoping—”
Vanessa sets her to-go container on the step and launches herself into my arms, her sushi no longer a priority. “Oh my God.”
“So what do you say? Ready to be the stylish auntie to my overbearing uncle and live happily ever after with me?”
“Yes, a billion times, yes,” she says, her eyes tearing up. “I love you, I adore you, I don’t ever want to live a moment without you.”
I pull her close and seal our future with a kiss.
When we draw apart, she stares at me in wonder, her gorgeous brown eyes mirroring the love I feel for her.
“As long as there are no spiders and we get to christen every room, I’m game.”
“The basement’s going to have to be off-limits, though. I’m building an in-law suite for your parents there.”
Her eyes go glossy, a tear slipping down her face before I can catch it. “Okay, no spiders and we christen every room except the in-law suite.”
“Now this is the kind of plan I can get behind. Deal.”
She pulls me in for another tight embrace. “We’re going to be so ridiculously happy, people are going to hate us.”
“Nauseating, probably.”
“Utterly in love and so fucking annoying.”
Yeah, I can picture it now…and forever.
Vanessa
It started out as a ruse. As a favor to my then-estranged younger sister.
Luckily for me, Jason ended up being the love of my life.
Red flags: 2. Vanessa: 1.
Doesn’t matter. I still came out on top.