Epilogue
NATE
“We now arrive at the central point of the ceremony—the presentation of the doctoral candidates. We ask you to come forward as we call your name in recognition of your individual accomplishments,” the Dean of the Graduate School of Arts and Sciences finally announces.
It feels like hours have gone by of listening to people I don’t particularly recognise or care for, talk. But the wait will have been most certainly worth it when Dr. Vivienne finally walks across that stage.
A hand to my right bicep drags my attention to the side, where Margaret dabs away with a tissue under her eyes. “She worked so hard for this,” she says with a quiet shudder. “Her success really is well-earned.”
And as I search for her among the many graduates lining the side of the stage, I can’t help but share the same sentiment when my eyes find her. Like all great things, the past year carried its share of challenges, but Vivienne managed to pull through.
Not only did she complete her final PhD project and publish two papers in prestigious academic journals, but she also wrote a three-hundred-page thesis and defended her work brilliantly.
With the success of the imaging probes she’d synthesised, her PI—who is no longer financially struggling due to regaining his grants—founded a biotech company where Vivienne is co-CEO.
BrownBird Diagnostics, they decided to call it, and knowing the significance that name holds for Vivienne warms my heart.
So far, the company isn’t exactly profitable, but they’re about to enter clinical trials for one of the cancer-detection agents she made.
And despite the multitude of offers from pharmaceutical companies begging her to work for them, she turned down every single one, all because she believed in the work she was doing.
“Receiving the doctoral degree in Chemistry—Vivienne Brown.”
The entire crowd erupts in a respectful applause, but the row I’m seated in has no shame in clapping extra hard. Vivienne turns in the direction of the sound, a wide smile on her face as she takes us all in.
Margaret, Phil, Sutton, Evelyn, even my Mom, Dad, Audrey, and Anya—the entire crew made it.
How we managed to get so many tickets is still beyond Vivienne, but that’s only because I didn’t tell her I’d pulled a few strings.
Coming out as the anonymous donor to the Anderson Lab definitely had its perks.
And I knew we’d all become far too invested in her journey not to celebrate this with her.
Melanie and Adam almost attended the commencement themselves, but neither was able to make it due to personal obligations.
Apparently, someone caught wind of my cousin’s impeccable stalking skills, and she was quickly hired by the FBI. While she can't disclose what she’s working on, I do know that those LinkedIn pages and mothers’ Facebook accounts are being put to good use.
As for the little shit that is my brother, he’s off somewhere with another “hot date.”
His words, not mine.
Vivienne waves once in our direction before continuing her walk to shake the hands of the faculty members standing further down the stage.
Her long dark brown hair is waved to perfection beneath the tam with its gold tassel, and her light blue gown—with black velvet panels and matching stripes on each large sleeve—makes her look even more radiant.
Happiness glows from her, and I think it’s safe to say everyone in this row couldn’t be more proud.
“We shouldn’t have worn mascara,” Evelyn whispers to Sutton as she fans her teary eyes.
“We really shouldn’t have,” Sutton responds with that same softness. “But you’re blonde, and I’m a redhead. Visible eyelashes aren’t exactly in our DNA.”
Evelyn stills, slowly turning in her blunt friend’s direction. She blinks thrice, clearly taken aback. “You’re crazy. You know that?”
Sutton doesn’t respond, only places one finger to her lips to shush her. “Pay attention.”
I stifle a laugh, shaking my head at their antics. Luckily for me—and everyone else involved—there will be plenty more where that came from at the surprise celebration planned at Margaret’s house.
But as excited as I am for Vivienne to be surrounded by those she loves most, I can’t wait for my own little secret to be revealed later this week.
———
After finishing our meal at a nearby restaurant under the guise of an end-of-graduation-week celebration, I suggested we go on a walk. Originally, I’d thought I was doing a good job hiding my motive, but now, I’m afraid my own body will betray me.
“Why are your hands so clammy?” Vivienne asks in concern as we continue our stroll down Central Park.
An awkward laugh leaves my lips as I shake my hand out of hers and wipe it down the side of my trousers.
“Sorry, must be the weather,” I try to brush off, but even then, it doesn’t sound all that convincing.
It’s pitch-black in late May, our surroundings illuminated only by the nearby street lamps.
A cool breeze drifts through the night, and it definitely isn't warm enough to warrant sweaty hands.
Vivienne had complained about being cold, and if it weren't for ruining the pictures that are about to be taken, I would have given her my jacket in an instant.
I had it all coordinated with her friends. Convince Vivienne that the white dress and matching accessories came from one of Sutton’s brand deals.
Surprisingly, she bought the “I thought this would look perfect for your dinner tonight” excuse and wore the items with little to no resistance. She didn’t even protest when Sutton went in with a red lipstick, which was somehow still perfectly intact following dinner.
“Nate,” Vivienne murmurs, prompting me to look over at her. “I think we’re walking in on someone’s proposal,” she says when the candlelights come into view.
I say nothing, only place my hand on the small of her back and guide her in the direction of the rustic gazebo.
Red roses and vines wind around the tethered wooden beams with fairy lights casting a warm halo over the structure.
A Persian carpet lies in the center of it all, surrounded by glowing candles in every shape, color, and height.
“Nate,” she whisper-yells with more urgency this time. “I don’t think we should go any further.”
I shake my head, a smile tugging at my lips that she still doesn’t believe all of this is for her. We said we’d take it slow, wait for her to graduate before even thinking about an engagement or marriage. I honestly thought that now that she'd gotten to this point, she would have been on to me.
Clearly, that’s far from the case.
“Come on.” I nod in its direction, grabbing onto her hand to bring her closer to where I need her to be. Only, she stays put, her mouth dropped wide open, and the reality of the situation finally sinks in.
I consider giving her an extra tug to move her along, but with the heels she’s wearing, I don’t have much faith in making it there. We’ve done this once before, and the only place we ended up was drenched in a fountain.
I mean, I’m grateful for where that situation brought us, but a repeat on possibly damp grass? It might make for a great story, but I’m sure we could live without it.
“What are you waiting for?” I squeeze her hand.
“Nate,” she says, with a hand over her mouth, eyes glassy. “You could have asked me to marry you over a cup of coffee, and I would have said yes. We’ve done this before; we don’t need to do it again.”
Ya, that was never an option.
I roll my eyes in amusement before coming to a stop in the middle of the gazebo. Then I drop to one knee, pulling the ring box from the pocket of my trousers. With a quick flick, the lid pops open to reveal the ring I’d spent months designing.
I considered reusing the one that brought us here, but that felt wrong. Yes, it might have had history, but it came from someone else, not me.
A new beginning. A fresh start. A lifetime of memories to make ahead of us.
Anything new eventually gathers its own stories. But I'd like to think this gold band, engraved with feather-like patterns and rising to an even larger diamond, is the perfect way to honor the very thing that brought us together.