Extended Epilogue
HARRY
A few months later…
She's still wearing the dress from under her graduation gown — navy blue, hits just above her knees, makes her eyes look darker. The cap and gown are folded neatly in the seat beside her, and she keeps touching the tassel like she can't believe it's real.
Northwestern University. Business management degree. She made it through while living with three men who think "study break" means flying her to Napa for the weekend.
The plane banks left, and Chloe glances out the window. Her brow furrows slightly as she takes in the landscape below.
"We've been in the air for an hour," she says, looking from me to Adam to Chris. "Where exactly are we going for dinner?"
I lean back in my seat. She's wearing the earrings Chris gave her for Christmas — small diamonds that catch the light when she turns her head.
"You never use the red handbag," I tell her.
The furrow deepens. "What?"
"The one Adam gave you for your birthday. It's been sitting in your closet."
She shifts in her seat, and I catch the exact moment understanding starts to dawn. Her eyes widen slightly, then narrow with suspicion.
"I want to preserve it," she says carefully. "It's too beautiful to use every day."
"Exactly." I watch her face. "So we're taking you shopping."
"Shopping."
"In Paris."
The silence stretches long enough for the plane to hit a small patch of turbulence. Chloe grips the armrests and stares at me like I've announced we're flying to Mars.
"You're taking me shopping in Paris because I don't use a handbag enough."
Adam leans forward from his seat across the aisle. "Buy as many as you want. Fill the plane with them."
"Then we're taking two months to drive around Europe," Chris adds without looking up from his tablet. "I've already booked the hotels."
The laughter starts, but it comes faster now, like she knows what we are and loves us anyway.
"You're all completely insane," she says, doubling over in her seat. "Certifiably insane."
"You graduated," I point out. "Magna cum laude."
"So you're flying me to Europe!"
"Seemed appropriate."
She wipes her eyes and looks around the cabin — at Adam grinning like he's personally responsible for inventing celebration, at Chris already planning our itinerary, at me watching her laugh.
"Next time I'm not saying anything," she says. "I'm just going to keep my mouth shut and see what you come up with on your own."
"Too late," Adam tells her. "Harry's already thinking about it."
She looks at me with those green eyes, still bright with laughter, and I think about how she looked walking across that stage this morning. Confident. Happy. Ours.
The plane levels out above the Atlantic, carrying us toward Paris and whatever comes next.