Epilogue
DEREK
Three years later
The studio space was perfect with high ceilings, lots of natural light, and just enough room for both Pilates equipment and a small counselling office. Rosie walked through it for the third time, her hand trailing along the walls like she was trying to memorize every inch.
"This is really happening," she breathed, turning to face me with tears in her eyes.
"This is really happening," I confirmed, pulling her into my arms. "The Healing Ground: A Center for Athletic Recovery and Resilience. Our dream, finally real."
It had been two years of hard work. I'd finished my bachelor's in psychology and was halfway through my master's program in sports psychology. Rosie had completed her business degree and gotten advanced certifications in Pilates, barre, and rehabilitation therapy.
We'd saved every penny from our jobs and from what my parents were giving us, applied for small-business loans, and spent countless hours planning every detail. And now, finally, we were standing in our own studio.
"I can't believe your parents co-signed the loan," Rosie said, looking around. "I thought they’d think we were crazy."
"They do think we're crazy. But they also believe in us, I think." I kissed her forehead. "Plus, I really do think they love you.”
“Doubt it,” I made a face before laughing. His parents were different from my family, but they did try to make me feel included, which mostly consisted of expensive gifts and inviting me to trips. Not that I complained.
"So," Rosie pulled back, her eyes sparkling. "Where do we start?"
"Here." I handed her a box wrapped in plain brown paper. "Open it."
She tore into it like a kid on Christmas, gasping when she saw what was inside: a sign reading "The Healing Ground" in beautiful script, with a small soccer ball and ballet slipper intertwined in the design.
"Derek, this is perfect."
"I had it commissioned. Figured we needed to make it official." I pulled out a second, smaller box. "And this is for you."
She opened it slowly this time, her hands shaking. Inside was a silver key on a delicate chain.
"The key to the studio," I explained. "Our future. Everything we've built together."
"And everything we're going to build," she added, fastening it around her neck. "Derek, I love you so much."
"I love you too, Thorn." I kissed her, soft and sweet. "Now come on. We have a studio to set up."
We spent the rest of the day unpacking equipment, arranging furniture, and slowly transforming the empty space into something real. Rosie set up the Pilates area with meticulous care, while I organized my office with books on sports psychology, trauma recovery, and athletic performance.
Around 6 PM, there was a knock on the door.
"Surprise!" Aaron, Max, Maddox, and a handful of our old teammates filed in, carrying pizza boxes and drinks. Behind them came Ivy, Nova, Daisy, and the other girls, their arms filled with decorations.
"What is this?" Rosie laughed.
"Studio warming party," Aaron announced. "We figured you could use some help setting up. And some food. You've probably forgotten to eat."
He wasn't wrong. We'd been so focused on the studio that we’d forgotten lunch.
"Plus," Nova added, hanging streamers, "we wanted to be here for this moment. This is huge, you guys."
For the next few hours, our friends transformed the space. The guys helped move heavy equipment and hang mirrors. The girls decorated the walls with plants and inspiring quotes. Someone, probably Maddox, even brought a sound system.
We played music and just worked on setting up the space of our dreams.
By the time they left, the studio looked professional and inviting. Exactly as we envisioned on those late nights talking about it. Ready to welcome our first clients.
"Thank you," Rosie said, hugging Aaron. "For this. For everything."
"You're my sister. This is what family does." He pulled back, his eyes suspiciously bright. "I'm proud of you, Rosie. Of what you've overcome. Of what you're building."
"We're building it together," Rosie corrected, pulling me into a hug. "All three of us. Because Derek's my family too."
Aaron didn't flinch at the sentiment. Instead, he clapped me on the shoulder. "Take care of her."
"Always."
When everyone had finally left, and it was just Rosie and me in the quiet studio, I pulled her onto the new couch in the waiting area.
"Tired?" I asked.
"Exhausted. But happy." She rested her head on my shoulder. "This is everything I dreamed of and more."
"We officially open next week. The first client is that swimmer you met at your Pilates class."
"The one with the rotator cuff injury, yeah. I'm nervous."
"You're going to be amazing. You've helped so many people already."
"Because you've been right there with me, helping them work through the mental blocks." She looked up at me. "We make a good team."
"The best team." I kissed her softly. "Speaking of which..."
Rosie’s eyes lit up, and she looked at me. “Did you make a new playlist?”
I laughed a nervous laugh. “Yeah, there’s one I need to share with you.
It’s called New Beginnings.” I handed her my phone, and she scrolled through the Spotify list before playing it from the beginning.
It was ‘This Love’ by Taylor Swift, the acoustic version, of course.
She closed her eyes as the newly installed sound system connected and music blasted through our studio.
I watched her beautiful, calm face for a long moment before I reached into my pocket, my heart suddenly pounding. I'd been planning this for months, waiting for the right moment. And standing in our studio, surrounded by everything we'd built together, felt perfect.
"Rosalie Marie Brines," I started, sliding off the couch to kneel in front of her.
Her hands flew to her mouth, tears already pooling at the corner of her eyes.
“Four years ago, you showed up at my hospital room with terrible cupcakes and a willingness to see past my walls. You helped me through the darkest period of my life. You taught me that being broken isn't the end, it's just the beginning of something new."
I pulled out the ring I'd been carrying for weeks, a simple band with a small diamond, delicate and perfect like her.
"You're my best friend, my partner, my home. You're the person I want to build this crazy future with. The person I want to wake up next to every morning and fall asleep holding every night." My voice cracked slightly. "Will you marry me?"
"Yes," she sobbed. "Yes, yes, a thousand times yes."
I slid the ring onto her finger, and she pulled me up into a kiss, both of us crying and laughing at the same time.
"I love you so much," she said between kisses. "I love you, I love you, I love you."
"I love you, too, Thorn. Forever."
We stood there in our studio, holding each other, both thinking about how far we'd come. From injured athletes struggling with identity loss to partners building a business designed to help others through the same journey.
"Should we call people?" Rosie asked eventually. "Tell them the news?"
"In a minute." I pulled her back against me. "Right now, I just want to be here with you. In this moment. In this place we built together."
She relaxed into me, both of us looking around at the studio. Our future and our dream.
"You know what's funny?" she said softly.
"What?"
"That article you showed me, the one that started all this. The one that said 'Sometimes the greatest love stories begin with the greatest losses.'"
"Yeah?"
"It was right. We both lost so much. But we found each other. We found this." She gestured at the studio. "We turned our pain into purpose."
"We did." I tightened my arms around her. "And we're just getting started."
My phone buzzed with a text from Aaron.
Aaron
Ivy says Nova says Daisy says you proposed. IS MY SISTER ENGAGED???
I showed the text to Rosie, and we both laughed.
"I guess we should tell him,” she said.
She said yes.
Aaron
FINALLY. Congrats, man. Really. Welcome to the family. Officially.
But you're still not off the hook for waiting this long to ask her father's permission.
I grinned. I'd asked Rosie's dad for his blessing last month during our Christmas visit. He'd made me sweat for a full ten minutes before laughing and saying he'd been expecting it.
Rosie called her parents, then her friends, and soon our phones were blowing up with congratulations. But we ignored them, choosing instead to stay in our studio, in our future, in this perfect moment.
"We should probably add a wedding charm to your bracelet," Derek said, touching the silver band around my wrist. It had accumulated several charms over the past two years, including a graduation cap, a tiny studio, a therapy couch, and a soccer ball with a small crack to represent healing.
"And eventually, maybe some others," Rosie said shyly. "Like... baby booties? When we're ready. In like, five years."
"Five years sounds perfect." I kissed her. "Everything with you sounds perfect."
As the sun set through the studio windows, casting long shadows across the space, we sat on the floor, planning our future. The wedding, the business launch, the life we were building together.
It wasn't the life either of us had planned when we were kids, dreaming of professional careers. It wasn't the life we'd imagined before injuries changed everything.
But it was ours. Built on honesty, resilience, and a love that had grown from shared pain into something beautiful.
"Derek?" Rosie said as we finally locked up the studio for the night.
"Yeah?"
"Thank you for taking the shot. For being brave enough to fall for me even when it was complicated."
I pulled her close one more time, right there on the street outside our studio. "Rosebud, falling for you was the easiest thing I've ever done. Everything else, like the fear, the doubt, the worry, that was just noise. You were always the signal."
"That's really poetic for a jock."
"Shut up and kiss me."
She did, there under the streetlights, in front of the business we'd built and the future we'd chosen.
And somewhere in the back of my mind, I could hear Dr. Morrison's voice from that first therapy session two years ago: Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is admit you need help. Sometimes the strongest thing you can do is be vulnerable.
He'd been right.
Being vulnerable had led me to Rosie. Being honest had saved my career. Being brave enough to ask for help had given me a future I never could have imagined.
We drove home hand-in-hand, our new shared playlist, now re-titled to "Our Forever,” playing through the speakers. The songs had evolved over the years, from angsty acoustic covers to hopeful love songs to triumphant anthems.
Just like us.
Just like our story.
And as we pulled into the apartment we shared, after Aaron had finally accepted we were adults capable of living together, I realized something profound.
We hadn't just survived our injuries. We'd used them to become better versions of ourselves. To build something meaningful. To help others who were struggling in the same darkness we'd fought through.
Our scars hadn't destroyed us. They'd led us to each other. And to this beautiful, imperfect, perfect life we were creating together.
"Come on, fiancé," Rosie said, breaking me out of my thoughts. "Let's go celebrate."
"How do you want to celebrate?"
She grinned, that beautiful smile that still made my heart skip. "Pain au chocolat and a terrible movie none of us is actually going to watch?”
"You know me so well."
We raced up the stairs to our apartment, both laughing like idiots, both completely and perfectly in love.
The future stretched out before us, full of possibilities. A wedding to plan. A business to launch. A life to build together.
And we were ready.
Not perfect. Not without scars. But healed enough to help others heal.
Brave enough to keep choosing each other, every single day.
Together.
Always together.
The End