Theo’s Epilogue #13

“Good morning,” she murmured. Her lips twitched into a soft, sleepy smile, and she nuzzled deeper into his neck. “We’re in Paris.”

“Yes, sweetheart,” he hummed, tightening his arms around her with a dreamy sigh. “We’re in Paris.”

“What are we going to do today?”

Theo tucked her under his chin and buried his nose in her hair, inhaling deeply while he thought back to the texts from their friends that had come through once they landed:

Diego | Good luck tomorrow, Tedward! You’ve got this! She’s gonna cry

Violet | I swear to God, THEODORE

Violet | I swear to GOD

Violet | If you forget to record my baby’s proposal so I can see it

Violet | I WILL RIP OUT YOUR INTESTINES AND HANG YOU WITH THEM MYSELF

Alastair | Bloody hell, Violet, what the fuck?

Violet | I MEANT WHAT I SAID

Violet | IT’S NOT *MY* FAULT HE DRAGGED HER TO PARIS INSTEAD OF DOING IT HERE

Alastair | Wouldn’t YOU like to be proposed to in Paris???

Violet |…

Violet |…are you—?

Alastair | NOT WHAT I WAS SAYING

Alastair | Let’s talk about this offline

There was a large stretch of radio silence in the group text before it picked up with a new timestamp.

Alastair | Violet

Alastair | My love

Alastair | Petal

Alastair | My sweet pookie bear

Alastair | Please come back inside

Diego | Your sweet pookie bear, Ali? Really?

Diego | I’ll be your sweet pookie bear.

Alastair | FUCK

Alastair | FUCK

Alastair | SHIT

Alastair | OH FUCK NO

Alastair | DELETE THIS

Alastair | NOT MEANT FOR THE GROUP

Theo nearly had an aneurysm trying not to cackle when he read that. But Ali would be fine.

Violet was quick to anger, but never one to let it linger. And Ali knew how to grovel with the best of them. So much so, Theo half wondered if the man had a foot fetish sometimes.

He didn’t want to know.

Josh |…good luck, man. Godspeed.

Josh | Theo, Audball loves you. She’ll say yes

Josh | But seriously: record that shit or you’ll be in for it when you get back home

Josh | Violet will be out for your blood and I’ll help her hunt you down

Those weren’t the only texts he had waiting for him.

His mom’s had come through the latest. Looked like she was up burning the midnight oil prepping for a big court case.

But that wasn’t important. What was important was that she fulfilled every promise she’d made him in therapy, and more.

He teared up when he read her messages.

Mom | Make sure you call me when she says yes.

Mom | What time is your brunch? I think it’ll be about 4am here.

Mom | I’ll have my phone on, you make sure to wake me up, I don’t care about sleep, it’ll be a miracle if I get any anyway

Mom | I’m too excited

Mom | I want to FaceTime with Audrey as soon as you slip Nana’s ring on her finger.

Mom | And make sure to text Gladys too. She’ll want to know.

Mom | I can’t wait for you to come home.

Mom | Your father would be so proud of you. I know I am.

Mom | He would have loved Audrey like his own daughter. I know I do.

Mom | And I love you.

It was true.

Dad would have loved her. He would have loved her so much.

Audrey was the only one who didn’t know it yet, but Theo had already made brunch reservations at a café—a real one, in a historic building with classic cast-iron tables outside and bursting with fresh springtime flowers, covered in wisteria and surrounded by blossoming pink cherry trees.

In about an hour and a half, they’d sit at their table outside in the sun and order baguettes served with butter and fresh strawberry jam, freshly baked pain au chocolat, orange juice, ?ufs cocotte with toast and cheese and whatever else.

And they’d order café au lait, rich espresso mixed with milk.

Just the way Audrey liked her coffee best.

Theo would pull out the emerald engagement ring he’d been carrying around in his pocket for the past five hundred days—

—he’d kneel before her—

And he’d ask for her hand.

He’d kneel with a decent hip, with relatively steady hands, without fear, without anxiety, only a heart filled with hope and love, and he’d ask Audrey to be his forever. To let him be hers for the rest of their lives.

And he would stop counting the days.

Because now he wouldn’t have to anymore—he would just live them with her.

He would do anything for Audrey.

He would kill for her. He would die for her.

But these days, what he wanted most was to live for her.

The corner of Theo’s mouth twitched, and he felt both dimples fold deeply into his cheeks when he smiled—as wide as he ever had.

“Figured we’d head out to a café and start with some breakfast. And coffee.”

Scent has a stronger tie to memory and emotion than any of the other senses.

They met in a café at 8:17 on a sunny Tuesday morning.

Whenever Theo thought of Audrey, he could always smell freshly roasted coffee in his nose, just the same as when he first laid eyes on her.

The scent of thick, rich espresso, brewed dark and strong.

And while he could still taste the chocolate from her lips at the park, feel the popcorn between his fingers while they watched Casablanca at his favorite theater, see the way the bright orange neon sign he’d made for Tío’s taco truck glowed against her skin back when he was first beginning to suspect that maybe, just maybe, there was something there, it was always coffee that reminded him of her the most.

Reminded him that maybe life was good after all.

That maybe it wasn’t bitter.

That maybe it was actually sweet.

It was why he’d chosen this city, and that spot.

Because this way, they would always have Paris—and the luxurious scent of coffee floating in the air.

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