Epilogue
The cold bit at my cheeks as we strolled through the glowing streets of Paris, our breaths visible in soft clouds that curled into the winter night.
Tiny white Christmas lights draped the bare trees along the Seine, blinking like stars as if the city itself was trying to outdo the sky.
My hand was tucked into Leo’s coat pocket, fingers laced with his, and every few steps, he’d lean down to kiss the top of my head like he couldn’t help himself.
With New Year’s Eve only a few days away, the city, though chilly, was still aglow in festive holiday charm, which just added to the whimsical vibe emanating off every café and street corner.
We’d spent the last few hours wandering aimlessly, our only agenda being crepes and champagne.
Mine had been dusted with powdered sugar, the citrus tang of lemon sharp against my tongue.
Leo’s had Nutella and strawberries and was, naturally, better than mine, though he insisted it was only because I kept stealing bites.
We passed accordion players and laughing children, lovers pressed against stone walls beneath hazy lamplights. It was all so achingly, unbearably romantic that if it hadn’t been real, I would’ve rolled my eyes at the pure cliché of it all.
But it was real.
We were real.
And though I never found any clear explanation for what had happened with the tarot card reader or why the magic had chosen me, all I knew was that I was grateful it had.
That window gave me a glimpse into a life I didn’t know I was missing out on and a chance to finally open myself up to a whole new world of possibilities.
Leo and I reached Trocadéro, the plaza directly across the Seine, just as the Eiffel Tower lit up for the nine o’clock sparkle, its diamond-like shimmer reflecting in the river below.
I stood there, completely breathless, not from the cold but from the ache in my chest, this fierce, deep, wildly tender thing that had taken root ever since Leo reappeared in my life.
He turned to me, his face lit by the golden strobe of a city in celebration. “You know,” he said, brushing a stray hair from my face, “this is where I imagined we’d be when we were supposed to meet last year.”
I swallowed hard. “I know. I think about who I was back then. The me who never showed up.”
“All that matters is that you’re here now,” he said gently.
“Yes, I am finally here.”
And I was there. All of me. Every last piece he’d waited for. Every last piece I’d been so afraid to give him.
Leo reached into his coat pocket with his other hand and dropped to his knee. Just like that. No elaborate speech. No dramatic lead-up. Just him, in the middle of Paris, with a look that shattered every wall I’d ever built.
“Elliot West,” he said, his voice steadier than mine would’ve been, “you’ve made me believe that second chances and love, the miraculous kind, are absolutely worth waiting for. I’ve known I loved you since the day—”
I held up my hand. “Wait. I’m not ready.”
Leo froze, his mouth still partway open.
I could see his face fall, but before he moved to stand up from the ground, I shook my head, dropped my bag to the cobblestones, and crouched to kneel beside him.
My heart was pounding harder than I’d ever remembered, and after pulling a pair of men’s sneakers out of my tote, I placed them in his hands. “I had a plan too.”
He blinked. “What? What is this?” He untied the bow that kept the tissue paper in place and looked up at me, puzzled. “Um . . . new trainers?” he asked, staring down at a brand-new pair of Nike sneakers in his size.
“I was planning on proposing to you.”
“You were?” His face softened, a smile overtaking his confusion.
“Remember that story you told me in Mykonos? About Atalanta?”
It was the very same story he had reminded me of during that last epic fight in Belize before he’d disappeared.
Of course, the Leo on this timeline had no memories of Belize or that argument, but I hoped he’d at least recall telling me the myth over dinner in Little Venice on the night of our first date.
“The girl who was trying to outrun the world,” he affirmed. “I remember.”
“But Meleager didn’t try to beat her,” I said. “He ran with her. Kept pace.”
Leo searched my face. “He wasn’t trying to win. He just wanted to show her he was there, right alongside her.”
Taking the sneakers from him and placing them next to us, I reached for his hand. “Exactly. And I want to spend the rest of my life running with you, Leo. Not ahead, not behind. Just with you.”
His fingers tightened around mine. “What do you say?” he asked. “Maybe we do this next part together.”
“What do you mean?”
“Instead of me proposing to you or you proposing to me, what if right here and now we simply promise to choose one another in all the ways that matter. Because I do. I do choose you, Elliot, to be my partner, both in sparring and in life, my lover, my confidante, my mirror, and my best friend.”
“And, Leo, I choose you to be my partner, even while knowing there will be good times and bad, that I will weather the storm with you and hold your umbrella and be your safe haven. I want you to be the person I run to and the home I return to. I never want us to lose sight of how there was always an invisible thread pulling us back to one another and that magic is just what we call it when something impossible becomes undeniable.”
Leo smiled, his eyes creasing in the corners, and he brushed a gentle thumb over my cheek. “If there’s magic in this world, Elliot, it’s you standing in front of me, choosing me back. That’s all I’ll ever need.”
I threw my arms around him, laughing and crying at the same time as the Eiffel Tower burst into its next glittering sparkle. The small crowd that had gathered around us clapped and cheered, though I hardly noticed. It felt like the whole world had stilled just for us at that moment.
As we kissed beneath the twinkling Parisian night, I realized this was the life I had never dared to believe was possible. It was imperfect, full of forgiveness, hard but real, and fiercely beautiful. The joy it held burned so brightly that even the darkest shadows felt worth facing.
Because in a city built on love, I’d found something even stronger—the courage to finally embrace it.