Epilogue
Two years later…
“There’s my birthday boy,” Simon’s voice came from behind me.
He dropped a kiss on my head, then climbed over the back of the sofa I was sitting on.
It was a warm evening for May, and the sun sinking over the horizon lit the sky up in oranges and inky blues as I sat at the rooftop bar Simon had organized my birthday drinks at. Surrounded by people who loved me.
I was still getting used to that, except for the man who’d just sat down next to me. Him, I snuggled against without waiting for an invitation. Simon laughed, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and, when I tilted my head back for a kiss, pressing his lips upside-down to mine.
“Watcha got?” he asked, nodding to my hand.
I uncurled my fingers to reveal two bottles of nail polish—one navy blue with silver glitter floating in it, the other a bright teal with a gold shimmer when you turned it the right way in the light. “This one’s Pride,” I said, holding the navy up. “And this one’s Prejudice. From Ellie.”
Simon took the teal from me when I offered it to him, leaning over my shoulder to look at it before passing it back. “The formulas of these are good, too. Two coats, no streaks. Teal might need three.”
I’d learned a lot about nail polish formulas over the last couple of years. Amongst a host of other things.
Like how nice it was to wake up next to Simon every morning, and crawl into bed beside him every night, not just when some disaster had occurred in my life.
Or how much of a relief it was to know I could have morning breath, or hay fever, or be grumpy and quiet after a bad day and he wouldn’t mind.
He’d still kiss me, or make me eucalyptus tea to clear my sinuses, or pet my hair while we watched TV.
He’d still love me. All of me.
“You can paint my nails for me sometime this weekend,” I said, tilting my head back for another kiss. Simon gave it to me without hesitating, but the two of us were smiling so wide that it was more awkwardly brushing our lips together.
Those had quickly become my favorite kisses.
“I’m honored,” Simon said, resting his chin on the top of my head. “You having a good night?”
“I am.” I wriggled closer to him. “To my continued amazement.”
The party had been a surprise, and the attendance was, too.
I hadn’t realized I knew so many people who wanted to celebrate with me.
But Ellie and her girlfriend, Miko, were here, and so was Madelaine and the guy who’d replaced Cameron.
Simon’s parents, and Audrey, and even Delilah and Corey had video called from Texas.
Delilah had apologized for not coming down, too busy with veterinary school to take the time off.
She’d told me she loved me.
So had Madelaine.
I hadn’t realized I’d never heard it from either of them before until I did, and thinking about it now made a feeling I couldn’t quite name well up in my chest so sharply it made my eyes sting.
My impression was that Simon had something to do with it, which made it even better. He’d known how much it would mean for me to hear it.
Simon hummed, nuzzling my hair. “How does thirty feel?”
I shifted in place. “Pretty much like twenty-nine did yesterday,” I admitted. “I dunno why people worry about it. In my head, I’m still nineteen. In love with my best friend. Only it’s better now, because I get to kiss him whenever I want.”
“Always,” Simon promised. “I, uh. I’ve got something for you.”
I twisted around to look at him. “You gave it to me this morning,” I said. It’d been a beautiful, vintage copy of Persuasion, bound in leather that’d been worn soft from handling. On the inside cover, he’d written, You pierce my soul. Love always, Simon.
I’d cried messy, unattractive tears over it and he’d held my face in both his hands and kissed them away and let me cling to him long enough to make us both late to work.
“Something else,” Simon said, which was when I caught the note of… something I couldn’t quite figure out in his voice. If it’d been me, I might’ve called it nerves. But Simon was never nervous. Not around me, anyway.
Besides, what could he possibly want to give me that he’d be nervous about?
“It’s, uh,” he continued. “Something you said I could give you, umm. When I found the right moment.”
My heart stopped mid-beat and tripped over itself as I sat up and turned around to face him. When I did, there was a shy little smile on his face, and he was looking down at something in his hand.
A box. Black velvet, one edge of it worn bald where he was running his thumb over it.
He must’ve been doing that for a while.
“Simon…” I looked between the box and his face, heart pounding in my ears. I’d forgotten I’d said that until he reminded me, but…
“Yes,” I said, covering his hand with my own. “Obviously, yes.”
He looked up, meeting my eyes, one brow raised. “I haven’t asked yet.”
I shrugged. “You don’t have to. For once in our lives, you can be the one who doesn’t have to ask for something.”
“All the same,” he said, turning his hand to press the box into mine. “I’m already the happiest man in the world sitting next to you, but… help me annoy your mother the absolute best way I can think of?”
I laughed, too sharp and too loud, breaking into a grin so wide it made my face pull.
I surged forward as I closed my fingers around the box, colliding with Simon’s nose and his glasses as I pressed my mouth against his.
I was too busy giggling for technique, but it was still the best kiss of my life so far.
Just like every single kiss I shared with him—each one was better than the last because of all the ones that’d come before it, and all the ones I knew were coming after.
The one on our wedding day was definitely something to look forward to.
“Yes,” I repeated. “I will help you annoy my mother. As long as we don’t have to get married at the house.”
“We can get married in the living room if you want. Uh,” he interrupted himself, brows drawing together. “I mean, if we literally can. I’m not sure that would be legal.”
“Courthouse works for me,” I said. “Should’ve asked yesterday,” I added. “You’re too late to take half the trust fund in the divorce.”
I’d never found out if that was actually possible. As of today, it was a moot point.
“That was the idea,” Simon said.
Of course it was. Because he wanted me for me. And he wanted to be sure I’d know that, even if I would never, ever have seriously thought he was after the money.
If Simon cared about money, he could have been a rocket scientist or whatever. He was more than smart enough.
He did things for love.
Like, for example, proposing to me.
“Open it,” Simon nudged, pecking the tip of my nose.
I cracked open the box to find not one, but two interlocking gold bands inside, twisted together so they couldn’t be separated and hung from a thin chain.
“You never wear rings, so I wasn’t sure you’d want to start,” Simon explained. “You don’t have to wear it at all, obvious—”
I shut him up with another kiss, this one a little less headbutt-like.
“Are you kidding?” I asked rubbing our noses together. “I’m showing this to everyone while I tell them all about the smart, kind, wonderful, unbelievably sexy man who gave it to me. In those exact words.”
I curled a hand around the back of Simon’s neck to feel the heat of the blood rushing up it, kissing him again and not pulling back until my lungs started to burn.
He rested his forehead against mine, panting for breath, the frames of his glasses pressing into the bridge of my nose like they always did. I loved the way that felt, a point of contact I’d never had with anyone else. One of the dozens of little things I’d only ever shared with Simon.
I took the ring off the chain and pressed it into his palm, offering my hand so he could put it on.
“Do you know how many people’s hands I had to feel to work out your ring size?” Simon asked. “Practically everyone who works at the museum and a few people who were just visiting.”
I laughed, a wave of warmth washing over me as I imagined Simon explaining himself to all those people. Telling them about me. Letting them know that he loved me enough to want to keep me, always, and he was willing to embarrass himself to do it.
“Fits,” I said as he slipped it into place, feeling it settle on my ring finger.
“Ought to. I ended up measuring your finger with a piece of string while you were asleep and bringing it to a goldsmith who happened to be one of the people visiting the museum. The string was her idea. You like the ring?”
“I love it,” I said. I should’ve known Simon wouldn’t just pick something out of a display case. He never did anything the way other people did.
That was, I figured, why he could love someone like me when no one else seemed to be able to.
I kissed him again, just because I could, then curled up against his shoulder, tucking myself close to his warmth. The evening had been warm, but now that the sun had vanished, it was starting to get cold.
I’d start making let’s go home noises in a few minutes so I could take him home and show him just how much this meant to me in private.
For now, I was happy where I was.
“Given any thought to what to do about the trust fund?” Simon asked, running his fingers through my hair.
I chewed on my lip. I had, but I hadn’t said anything to anyone about it.
I could tell Simon, though. He wouldn’t laugh at me, even if he did think I was insane.
“What if I started my own publishing company?” I asked. “Boutique. Personal. Publishing the books I really love that maybe aren’t going to top the bestseller charts but that’ll matter to the people who do read them.”
I felt Simon’s smile widen against my temple as he pressed a kiss there. “Probably one of the best ideas you’ve ever had,” he said.
“Yeah?”
I knew Simon would support me if I’d said I was going to use it to build a moon laser, but he sounded pleasantly surprised by what I’d actually said.
“Seriously,” he said. “You’ve got amazing taste—”
“In both books and men,” I interrupted.
He snorted. “I’ll give you that, since it’s your birthday. Anyway. I think you should. I think you should get some joy out of your dad, even if it’s posthumous. I think the books should be gay and full of women doing whatever the hell they want.”
“Obviously,” I said. “All of them.”
“Can’t wait to read everything you publish and tell all my friends how amazing my beautiful husband is.”
I huffed, but snuggled closer to him. “And I was thinking the museum could use another wing. Which would also annoy my mother because it’s your museum but she could never say anything about it because it’s exactly the kind of thing people expect us to do.”
Simon laughed, high and bright like I’d just told the best joke in the world.
“Gonna have them put your name on it?” he asked.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said, turning to look him in the eyes again. “I’m gonna have them put yours.”