Epilogue
. . .
Maci
Glitch
Rune
Game Chat Witt
Tutorial complete.
Game Chat Maci
New adventure unlocked.
Game Chat Witt
Co-op Mode Activated.
“Why aren’t we going to the parking garage?” I ask Witt as he punches the button to the executive floor.
"I need to show you something before we go."
Witt slips his hand into mine as we step off the elevator and it’s eerily quiet. Everyone has already left for Parker and Annika's rehearsal dinner, leaving behind nothing but the faint hum of computers and the city glowing beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows.
"You realize your family is going to send out a search party if we're late."
"I accounted for that."
I laugh. "Of course you did."
Instead of leading me toward his office, he walks farther down the executive hallway where others enter. Construction paper still covers part of the floor from the remodeling that's been going on for weeks. Witt, Dara and I relocated to the Armadillo offices while they redecorated.
He stops in front of a wall hidden beneath a charcoal curtain.
"I've been working on this."
"You remodeled an entire wall?"
"I had help."
I smile. "I was going to say..."
He reaches for the edge of the curtain. "I've never been more nervous to show anyone anything."
That alone steals my breath.
Witt O'Ryan isn't afraid of interviews.
Or billion-dollar business deals.
Or speaking in front of investors.
But this...
This scares him.
He pulls the curtain aside and I forget how to breathe. The wall stretches nearly thirty feet across the executive floor. At the center, mounted in brushed steel letters, are the words:
EVERY GREAT GAME BEGINS WITH AN IDEA.
Beneath them...
His life.
Not arranged chronologically.
Connected.
Like constellations.
Like the stars he showed me over the Grand Canyon.
Every piece linked to the next.
A framed photo of the first computer he ever built.
The original notebook where he sketched the mechanics for his first game.
A tiny newspaper clipping announcing the launch of Synatrix.
The first streaming microphone.
A controller so worn the thumbsticks are smooth.
His first employee badge.
A photograph of Dara standing beside him in an empty office.
Another of the five original Synatrix employees crowded around folding tables eating pizza.
A championship jersey from the Austin Dillos hangs beside the inaugural eFootball trophy.
There are photos of launch parties, charity events, his family, hospital visits and a picture of the boys that recognized him at the college football game. One of the girls must have snapped a photo.
Pieces of the life he never let anyone see.
My eyes drift farther down the wall.
Then stop.
Letters.
Not all of them. Just a few.
One envelope.
One postcard.
A tiny doodle of a dragon I'd drawn in the margin because I'd gotten bored waiting for a loading screen.
A short note where I'd challenged him to think bigger instead of safer.
Another where he'd written back that maybe changing one person's life mattered more than changing millions.
My throat tightens.
Beneath one letter is a small engraved plaque.
Failure isn't bad.
It's just data.
It tells you what to do next... and what not to repeat.
Another.
Every great game begins with an idea.
The best ones begin with someone who believes in it before anyone else does.
I don't realize I'm crying until Witt gently wipes away a tear with his thumb.
"I didn't include the private ones." His voice is quiet. “Some belong only to us.”
I nod, unable to speak.
He looks back at the wall.
"For a long time, I thought Synatrix existed because I wrote good code."
He shakes his head and points toward the first framed letter.
"It exists because someone challenged me to think differently."
His fingers brush mine.
"Before the games.
“Before the companies.
“Before streaming.
“Before anyone knew my name..."
He turns toward me.
"There was a girl behind a username who kept reminding me that failure wasn't the end."
His smile is small.
"And somewhere along the way... she became part of every success I've ever had."
I look back at the wall.
It isn't a monument to Witt.
It isn't even a monument to Synatrix.
It's a monument to connection.
To the people who quietly change your life before the rest of the world ever notices.
My heart swells so full I think it might burst.
"You made us part of your story."
He smiles.
"No."
"You've always been part of it."
He reaches into the inside pocket of his suit jacket.
One final envelope.
Cream-colored.
My name is written in his unmistakably precise handwriting.
To:
Maci "Rune" Hart
A laugh escapes through my tears.
"You put Rune in quotation marks."
"I did."
"Why?"
"Because she deserves to stand beside your name."
My fingers tremble as I unfold the letter.
Dear Maci "Rune" Hart,
Ten years ago, a girl I never met taught me that every problem has a solution if you're willing to keep trying.
She celebrated my victories before anyone else knew they mattered.
She reminded me that failure was only data.
She believed in ideas before they existed.
She became my favorite player...
...long before she became my favorite person.
Today I have one last problem.
I already know the solution.
I just need your answer.
Will you marry me?
Love,
Witt
(formerly known as Glitch)
The words blur.
I cry, laugh and choke on the frog in my throat.
"No."
His smile disappears.
Before he can speak, I run.
Straight to my office.
I yank open the top drawer, searching until my fingers find exactly what I need.
Notepad paper. The same kind I'd written my earliest letters on. My pen scratches furiously across the page.
I fold it once.
Then run back.
Witt hasn't moved.
He simply watches me with that same patient expression he's had for ten years.
I press the folded paper into his hand.
He opens it.
Dear Witt "Glitch" O'Ryan,
Marrying you is all I've ever wanted.
Let's spend the rest of our lives solving life's problems together.
Love,
Maci
(also answering to Rune during gaming)
He laughs.
The full, unguarded laugh that still surprises me every time I hear it.
Then he kisses me.
Slowly.
Like he's memorizing the moment.
When we finally separate, I rest my forehead against his. He reaches into his pocket and slips a ring onto my finger. Diamonds of the Orion constellation.
I can’t form words. It’s so uniquely Witt.
“I wanted something that represented our journey together. Something only you would understand. Something to remind you that you have the whole O’Ryan family behind you.”
Finally, I say, “It’s the most beautiful piece of jewelry I’ve ever seen.”
His lips tip up softly. "So..."
"Our first problem as an engaged couple?"
He smiles. "What?"
"Your dad still doesn't have a date for the wedding tomorrow."
Witt's eyes drift upward for exactly one thoughtful second.
Then that familiar little smile appears.
"I think..."
"I know how to solve that one too."
I laugh, because that’s what he does best.
Some people spend a lifetime looking for the right person.
We spent ten years writing to each other... and the rest of our lives finding the connections to bring us together like the constellations in the sky.
Thank you for reading Glitched Play.