22. Epilogue
Epilogue
Nicole
Nearly a year after Sofia took over production on Brittle, white camera flashes filled the sidewalk beyond the tinted car window. Nicole watched them through the glass while Alexander held her hand in his.
“Last chance,” he said.
“To leave?”
“To go through the side entrance. To go home. To make me walk that carpet alone and explain that my wife has better things to do.”
Nicole turned from the waiting photographers to look at him. His tuxedo fit him perfectly. His bow tie sat straight. His attention had not left her since the car pulled away from Bel Air.
“You’ve offered me an escape four times,” she said.
“Three.”
“You asked in the bedroom, at the front door, and twice in the car.”
“The first one was before we left the bedroom. Different category.”
She smiled. “I’m going in with you.”
His thumb moved over her wedding ring. “Because you want to.”
“Yes, Alexander. That’s usually what it means when I put on a dress, get in a car, and refuse four chances to escape.”
His mouth softened. “Three.”
The driver opened the door. Nicole stepped out first.
For a moment, the noise was almost too much.
Photographers called Alexander’s name from behind the barriers.
Others called hers. Lights flashed across her blue dress and the black curls falling over one shoulder.
Months earlier, that much attention would’ve sent her hand toward her phone and made her wonder what a stranger would steal next.
No replacement anonymous account had appeared.
No more private material had been released, and there had been no new attempts to enter her home, devices, or accounts.
The intruder remained unidentified, but after months of quiet, Nicole had stopped looking over her shoulder every time her phone lit up.
Building her studio had helped. It was open, established, and busy at the careful scale Nicole had chosen.
Her daughters were thriving. Her husband knew their cups, their hair routines, their preschool schedule, and which bear voice Rose considered acceptable.
His work still mattered to him. He just no longer placed every studio demand ahead of his family.
Alexander came around the car and offered his arm.
“Ready?” he asked.
Nicole placed her hand through it. “I already answered that.”
“I know. I like hearing it.”
They walked onto the carpet together.
“Alexander, straight ahead!”
“Alexander, over your shoulder!”
“Nicole, look left!”
He looked at Nicole instead.
She laughed under her breath. “They’re calling you.”
“I can hear them.”
“You’re very bad at following directions tonight.”
“I spent years being too good at it.”
His hand rested at her waist, not because a publicist had placed it there or a photographer wanted a useful image. He kept it there because Nicole leaned into him.
“Would it feel like a performance if I kissed you?” he asked.
“Are you kissing me or them?”
“You.”
“Then kiss me.”
Alexander bent his head and kissed her in front of every camera. It wasn’t a long kiss. It didn’t need to be. His hand stayed firm at her waist, and when he lifted his head, he kept his eyes on her.
The shouting grew louder.
“That should keep them occupied,” Nicole said.
“I wasn’t thinking about them.”
“I know.”
That was why the kiss mattered.
Near the far end of the carpet, Angela stood with her publicist and two cast members. She glanced toward Nicole and Alexander, then turned away and moved toward an interviewer. Alexander never looked in her direction.
Nicole did once. She felt no need to cross the carpet, demand another apology, or prove that she had won. Angela had become a woman connected to an ugly part of their marriage, not the center of it. Nicole’s victory had nothing to do with defeating her.
Nicole had her work again. She had her choices. She had daughters who expected both parents to show up, and a marriage rebuilt around that expectation. She could stand beside her husband in public without becoming decoration, and she could stay home without becoming invisible.
She’d also made a final choice about Brian.
When she told him that she and Alexander were back together, she’d offered friendship but ended the possibility of professional referrals.
Their connection was too complicated for a collaboration to be fair to anyone.
Brian had understood and wished her well.
Alexander’s parents had sent elaborate regrets from their castle in France.
Their annual gathering apparently could not be interrupted for a film premiere or an ordinary family obligation.
Rebecca’s message had arrived five minutes later: “No one can confirm whether it’s a philosophical retreat, an art salon, or a cult initiation. I’ve decided ignorance is safest.”
Nicole had laughed and agreed.
At the theater doors, Alexander slowed.
“Still all right?” he asked.
She looked at the bright lobby ahead of them, then at the carpet behind. Walking through this entrance didn’t erase the months when he’d left her alone. It proved that neither of them was pretending those months had never happened.
“I’m good,” she said. “Take me inside.”
He smiled. “Gladly.”
Nicole entered the theater on her husband’s arm because she’d chosen to stand there. He didn’t pull her behind him or present her to the room. They walked in side by side.
***
Several weeks later, Nicole came home after a late block of appointments at the studio. She set her bag on the entry table and checked the time, expecting to hear protests from upstairs.
The house was calm.
She climbed the stairs and followed Alexander’s low bear voice to the twins’ room.
The door was open. Prim and Rose were in their separate beds wearing the pajamas they had chosen.
Prim’s yellow cup sat within reach beside her, and Rose’s purple cup was on the other nightstand. Smudge was tucked under Prim’s arm.
Alexander sat in the chair between the beds with a picture book open across his knees. Maya was nowhere in sight. He hadn’t anyone to hover or remind him what came next.
Rose saw Nicole first. Her sleepy face brightened. “Mommy.”
Prim pushed herself up on one elbow. “You came for the end.”
“I did.” Nicole crossed the room and kissed Prim’s forehead, then Rose’s. “I’m sorry I missed the beginning.”
“Daddy did the bear wrong,” Rose said.
Alexander looked offended. “My bear voice is excellent.”
“Too grumpy,” Prim told him.
“It’s a bear. He has reasonable concerns.”
Nicole covered a laugh with her hand. “Did you two survive his terrible performance?”
Rose nodded. “Daddy’s here tomorrow too.”
She said it as a fact, not a question. Prim had already settled back against her pillow. Neither girl had been crying. Neither had stayed awake waiting for Nicole to rescue bedtime or for Alexander to leave.
Alexander looked up at her. “How were the appointments?”
“Good. Full. My last client had a lot of questions.”
“Did you answer all of them?”
“I’m a professional.”
“So that’s a yes with judgment.”
“Heavy judgment. She brought in a bag with fourteen products.”
“For her face?”
“Supposedly.”
He smiled, and there was only pride in it. No complaint about the hour, no reminder that he’d handled dinner, bath, hair, cups, pajamas, stories, and everything between. He didn’t frame the evening as a favor she owed him for.
“Come here,” he said.
Alexander shifted the chair and made room next to him. Nicole sat, her hip pressed to his. He gave her one side of the book without surrendering the other.
“I’m listening,” Rose warned.
“I can see that,” Nicole said.
“You can do the little rabbit,” Alexander told her.
“And rescue your bear voice?”
“Support it.”
“Mommy does the rabbit,” Prim decided.
“Outvoted,” Nicole said.
Alexander kissed her temple. “It happens a lot in this house.”
They read the last pages together. Then Alexander closed the book, Nicole dimmed the lamp, and all four of them sang the final song. Rose demanded another kiss. Prim asked for water even though her yellow cup was next to her hand. Alexander gave it to her without pointing that out.
When the girls finally settled, Nicole stayed next to him between their beds. Tomorrow meant preschool, clients, meetings, content, meals, questions, and more work than either of them could finish alone.
Tonight, no one had waited for someone else to choose them. No one had carried the evening alone. Nicole leaned into her husband, and Alexander held her while their daughters fell asleep with both of them there.
THE END