Epilogue #3
In the meantime, Christy and I greet the newlyweds, Vanessa and Asher.
They eloped a month ago, on a trip to Hawaii—much to the dismay of their families, who were hoping for a big celebration.
But Vanessa had no interest in planning another wedding.
And since she and Asher are both eager to start a family, they decided not to wait.
Now the happy couple are talking to Sunny and Dex and, from the looks of it, there’s no bad blood between them.
It’s the first time Asher and Sunny have seen each other since she broke his heart in college—but it’s obvious from the smiles on everyone’s faces that everything worked out the way it was supposed to.
“I have to say, I’m feeling a little left out,” someone says behind me and Christy.
“Sammy!” my sister squeals, wrapping her arms around her favorite wingwoman. “Left out? Why?”
Sam hugs me, then nods toward our friends. “Because you guys have all slept with each other. I mean…Sunny’s slept with Asher and Dex, and Vanessa’s slept with Asher and Charlie. And Jenna, you’ve slept with Dex and—where is your hot boyfriend, anyway?”
I shrug. “Running an errand, apparently?”
“Well, if I find out the six of you have some sort of wild sex party after the show tonight, and I’m not invited—I’m going to be very upset,” Sam pouts.
Christy giggles as I bring my palm to my face, smiling. “ We will not be having an orgy, Sam. Don’t worry.”
Sam shakes her head. “Never say never! Because, this one time, I?—”
“Auntie Sam!” Sunny says, coming up to us with Stella at the exact right time to spare us the details of Sam’s story.
“How’s my baby girl?” Sam says, taking Sunny’s daughter from her. “You want to walk around? Come on.”
Sunny watches them walk away with a grin on her face—then her brow crinkles. “I’d better follow them. You never know what’s going to come out of Sam’s mouth, and I don’t think she has a lot of experience conversing with babies.”
“That’s probably a good call, considering she was about to tell us about the time she had an orgy,” I agree.
Sunny nods and rushes after Sam and Stella.
When we’re alone again, Christy glances at her watch.
“What time is it?”
“Seven,” she says.
I heave a sigh. “Charlie’s late. I can’t imagine what kind of errand he’s running.”
“He’s not late yet,” my sister insists. “He has another twenty-seven seconds.”
I give a wry laugh. “What are the odds that?—”
And that’s the precise moment Charlie walks through the gallery door.
With my mom.
“Oh my gosh!” My hands fly to my mouth, and I look at Christy. “Did you know about this?”
She shakes her head, looking equally stunned. “I had no idea. ”
My eyes fill with tears as Christy and I run over to them. “Mom,” we both say, throwing our arms around her.
Ingrid Andersen looks amazing. She’s always been beautiful, but the sadness in her eyes that weighed on her so heavily seems to have lifted.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” I tell her. “I’m so happy.”
“You have your boyfriend to thank. He was relentless,” she says, winking at him. “But I’m so grateful. Now that I have my first solo trip under my belt, the world is my oyster.”
I wipe a tear from my cheek. “Thank you so much,” I say, pulling Charlie close while Christy talks to our mom. “How did you convince her?”
He smiles, looking dashing as ever in one of the tailored suits that will soon be hanging in my closet. “I just told her how important it was for you to have her here. Eventually, she came around. But her flight was delayed?—”
I laugh. “Of course.”
“I’m lucky I didn’t get a speeding ticket, the way I was driving from the airport to make it here on time,” he says, wiping his brow.
I kiss him like there aren’t dozens of people walking into the gallery to see my artwork.
When we part, I look over at my mom, whose wide eyes are scanning the room—from my collection of portraits hanging on the far wall, to my landscapes displayed opposite them.
“Oh, Jenna,” she says. “I am so, so proud of you.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I reply, my heart fluttering.
Then the spark of wonder in her eyes turns into something fiery. “I’m so angry at myself for not standing up to your father sooner. I never should have allowed him to keep you from painting.”
Christy tilts her head. “ Sooner ? What do you mean? Did you actually stand up to Dad?”
Mom sighs. “Well…”
Christy nods. “It’s about time you gave Dad a piece of your mind. Way to go, Mom.”
Ingrid Andersen grins, a mischievous glint in her eyes that reminds me of Christy. “I did better than that. I kicked that brute to the curb. We’re getting a divorce.”
My sister jumps up and down, then wraps her arms around our mother, who’s crying tears of joy. It makes sense that the sadness she’s carried around for years has lifted.
“That’s wonderful, Mom,” I say, taking my turn to hug her.
But while I’m thrilled my mother just rid herself of a lot of dead weight, I’m surprised I feel so numb about the man she’s leaving.
Christy despises him, and for good reason.
And I could easily say the same, but I must have stopped caring at some point.
He severed our connection a long time ago—if we ever had one to begin with.
I mean, he’s never supported my dreams. He isn’t here for one of the most significant nights of my life.
I guess Simone Sutton made a good point about her husband.
William won’t be winning a Father of the Year award anytime soon, but at least he cares enough to show up.
“And the best part is,” Mom goes on with a victorious smile, “he’s so helpless without me, he had to move in with your grandmother.”
Christy cackles. “Well, it’s her fault for raising a numbskull who can’t even do his own laundry.”
“Maybe I’ll move here, so I can be close to you girls,” my mom muses. “There’s nothing tying me to Beachwood anymore. Wouldn’t it be fun? Christy, we could even go looking for love together. Two single gals, out on the town, searching for the one . What do you say?”
“Yes, Mom, please!” I exclaim. “That sounds great, doesn’t it, Christy?”
My sister tilts her head, considering my mom’s offer. “It sounds like a cute premise for a romance novel. I’d read it.”
“Then, it’s settled,” my mom says, her green eyes sparkling.
“Perfect!” Christy exclaims. “Well, I’d better get to work. I mean, these paintings could sell themselves—but that takes all the fun out of it for me.”
“I’ll come, too,” Mom says, following her.
I turn to Charlie. “I don’t think this night could get any better.”
He kisses the top of my head, then puts his arm around my waist. “Let’s go meet your adoring fans,” he says, leading me into the crowd.
The show goes off without a hitch. Sunny and Dex settle on four Italian landscapes, and the happy family of three manages to leave the gallery before anyone recognizes them.
Vanessa and Asher also pick a painting for their new home.
Then they leave, but not before Tati Marie scolds them again for getting married in secret.
She says she’ll only forgive them when they give her a grandniece or nephew.
Vanessa’s response: “Why do you think we’re rushing home? We’re working on it!”
And Christy does what Christy does best, expanding my list of clients—with our mom working as her assistant.
I can’t help but smile thinking about the adventures that are in store for us Andersen women in the Windy City.
Well, the Andersen women, plus Sam. When the show’s all but over, she takes my mom and sister out for celebratory drinks.
But when Charlie and I are about to leave the gallery and head home, an all-too-familiar face appears in the doorway.
“We’re closing in five,” Odette says, before she looks into the man’s ocean-blue eyes and her jaw drops.
“I’ll only be a minute,” Grady Brooks tells her.
I look up at Charlie, stunned.
“What are you doing here?” I ask when he walks up to us.
He runs a casual hand through his jet-black hair. “My art dealer says you’re the next big thing. Thought I’d come by and take a look.”
“Well, you’re a little late,” Charlie says with a sympathetic grin.
The movie star’s eyes narrow at my boyfriend before he turns back to me. “You look well, Jenna,” he says, his gaze nowhere near my face.
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” Charlie interjects without a hint of irony in his tone. “I’m Charlie Sutton. Jenna’s fiancé.”
Fiancé?
Charlie extends his hand, which Grady shakes while sporting an unmistakable scowl.
“Fiancé, huh? Congrats. Where’s the ring?” he says, eyeing my finger.
My boyfriend doesn’t miss a beat. “At home, on her nightstand. We just got engaged, but we wanted the focus to be on her artwork tonight, not on us. We’ll celebrate tomorrow, right babe?”
“Right,” I say, playing along. I have to say, Charlie’s acting is superb—and it’s having the desired effect. Grady looks insanely jealous. I guess his twisted mind is still hung up on the fact that his “charm” never worked on me.
“Well, I don’t want to overstay my welcome, so I’ll just have my art dealer reach out. Good to see you, Jenna,” he says, ignoring Charlie.
But Charlie will not be ignored. “It’s too bad you didn’t come earlier. Dex Oliver was here. What a stand-up guy. Finest actor of our generation, I’d say. Wouldn’t you agree, um—I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“It’s Grady,” I say, holding my breath so I don’t burst into laughter.
Grady rolls his eyes, and I’m pretty sure I hear him mutter, “Jackass,” as he walks away.
“That was a fun surprise,” Charlie says, looking pleased.
We’re still laughing about the encounter when we walk through the door of my apartment.
“You’re definitely a better actor than he is,” I say. “You really had him going with the whole engagement bit. The details about my ring being at home, on the nightstand, were a nice touch.”
“I was pretty convincing, wasn’t I,” my boyfriend says with a glimmer in his eye that I’m not sure I’ve seen before.
He takes me in his arms and we kiss...
But now I can’t help wondering if Charlie’s performance was so authentic because he wasn’t acting. Could there actually be a ring on my nightstand?
“Hold that thought,” I tell him. “I’m going to freshen up. I’ll be right back.”
As soon as I turn away from him, I feel silly for even bothering to check. Charlie and I haven’t talked about getting married yet. We know we’re in this for the long haul—and maybe because we’re happy being a family of two, we don’t feel the need to rush down the aisle.
But if I’m in no hurry to marry Charlie Sutton, why is my heart racing as I step into my bedroom and turn on the light? Why do I hope to see something shiny glinting under my bedside lamp?
And why am I so disappointed when I don’t find it?
I’m about to turn back around, when I realize something’s out of place.
My journal—my sketchbook of wishes—isn’t in my drawer, where it usually is. It’s on my nightstand, and it’s open to the last page. With sweaty palms, I pick it up.
There’s a new sketch in it, that I didn’t draw. They’re just stick figures—but I know exactly who they are, and what they’re doing.
It’s Jenna, holding a notebook. And behind her is Charlie, on one knee. With a ring in his hand.
“I lied to Grady,” he says when I spin around. “The ring was in my jacket pocket all evening—not on your nightstand.”
I laugh, and at the very same time, tears start streaming down my face.
“I wanted to propose to you a year ago, Jenna,” he confesses. “After your first art show. But I knew I still had a lot to prove. I’m the man I am today because of you. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been because of you. And I want to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you make me.”
Charlie looks down at the ring before he continues, and all I can think is, How did I ever get this lucky?
“I told your mom last week,” he goes on.
“I wanted to keep it a secret until she got here, but this was the only way I could convince her to get on a plane by herself. I was afraid she’d give away the surprise when we arrived at the gallery, but I have to say, she has a great poker face.
You never would’ve guessed she’d just been in your apartment, sitting right here on your bed, while I drew that masterpiece. ”
I clutch the notebook to my chest, sobbing and smiling.
“My parents know, too,” he continues. “I’m sure your mom’s told Christy by now. We’re all going to celebrate tomorrow. Well, I don’t want to assume…I haven’t even asked you my question yet.”
“Ask me,” I say, wiping my face and taking a shaky breath.
Charlie’s lip quivers. “Jenna Elizabeth Andersen…will you marry me?”
I’ve watched hundreds of movies where the happy couple gets engaged in the final scene.
But none of them prepared me for what I’d feel in this moment.
It’s like my life flashes before my eyes, and every emotion I’ve ever had along with it.
Every heartbreak and hurdle that led me to Charlie. My happily ever after.
I’m crying so hard I can barely speak. Thankfully, I only need to say one word.
“Yes,” I tell my fiancé in between heaving sobs .
Charlie takes the journal out of my hands and puts the ring on my finger, his eyes shining. Then he stands up and pulls me into his arms as I ugly cry. After he kisses my forehead, he wipes my cheeks with his sleeve. It’s his signature gesture, after all.
“I’ll be fine,” I say with a tearful laugh.
“Are you sure about that?” he teases.
“Yes,” I tell him. “I’ve just always been a sucker for a happy ending.”