Epilogue
Reed
When Shane arrives at our daily meeting, he comes bearing a Styrofoam tray full of coffee. He sets it down in the center of the table, offering me a cup.
“A pour over with no cream, no sugar, extra hot, as requested,” he says.
“Thanks.” I give him a nod and reach for my cup.
After the past couple weeks of working together, we’ve memorized each other’s coffee orders. There are no interns or assistants at our fledgling company to handle the coffee runs, so we’ve taken it on ourselves. Shane likes a vanilla latte with an extra shot of espresso, I’ve found.
So sweet, I told him sardonically when I learned this fact. Just like you. Which earned me an eye roll and a sharp elbow jab to the side, as if we were thirteen again.
Ever since we started this venture, and each day since, we’ve gotten along great. I feel more like his brother, and less like his coworker.
Part of it, I think, is that we’ve gotten away from the toxicity of Eastwood and our upbringings. I confronted my father a week and a half ago. Told him what a fucking asshole he was for what he did to Olivia, and haven’t spoken to him since. As far as I can tell, that tie is permanently broken.
I couldn’t be more relieved. It’s like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders.
“Don’t burn yourself on that,” Shane says, nodding at my coffee cup. “It’s hotter than the surface of the sun.”
I grin. “Better brush your teeth once you finish yours, or you’re gonna get cavities.”
“Oh, shut up.” Shane takes a nonchalant sip of his sugary latte. His voice is quiet and monotone, as always, the words more dry than caustic. “You’re just jealous that mine actually tastes good.”
“So I’ve been going over our projections,” I say, turning my laptop to face him. “It seems like our first step is to get some investors. We should start pulling strings. I’ve made a list here of all of the people we can reach out to who might help us. Take a look.”
Shane reaches across the table to take the laptop, studying the screen with a focused expression. Then he looks up at me and nods. “Looks good. I have a couple to add.”
“Great. If you don’t mind expanding the list, I’m going to look into some marketing options.”
“It’s a little early for that, don’t you think?”
I shrug. “Better early than late. Why not get a jump on it? We’re going to need a robust website, and I’d rather have it ready now than scramble for it later.”
Shane gives me a dubious look. “You know, Reed, I can handle a little more of the workload today.”
“You can?”
“Yeah. Let me handle marketers.” He raises an eyebrow. “I know you have something important to do today.”
I take a deep breath, nodding. He’s right. I do.
“If you’re sure,” I say, getting up from the table slowly.
“I’m sure.” Shane leans in to scrutinize the list on the laptop screen more closely. “Just leave this with me. I’ll bring it by your place tomorrow, if that works.”
“That works.” I tap the table, suddenly excited, and shoot him a grin. “Thanks, man. I owe you one.”
He waves a dismissive hand. “No, you don’t. You’d do the same for me.”
I pick up my phone off the table and head out of our rented conference room, feeling suddenly lighter than I did when I arrived. Meetings with Shane always seem to go that way lately.
On the drive home, from the backseat of the SUV, I put in a call to Olivia. The phone rings only twice before she picks up.
“Hi,” she says breathlessly. “You’re calling early.”
“Yeah, we didn’t have that much to do today,” I say. “What time are you gonna be home?”
“I’m still out at the shop,” she says. She’s been working hard to get the knitting store I bought for her up and running, putting in plenty of late nights.
I’m so proud of her, and so excited for her.
Soon, even more people will be able to have her custom knitwear.
She’s been selling online, but the brick and mortar location is going to really drum up business.
“No worries,” I tell her. “Take your time. Do what you have to do.”
“I’ve been running around all day, so it won’t be too much longer.”
“How’s it going?”
“It’s going great,” she says, her voice exuding confidence. The closer she gets to her opening day, the more sure of herself she seems.
“You sound like you’re in a good mood.”
“I am. I talked to my mom earlier.”
“Oh, yeah?” I smile to myself. “How is she?”
“She’s doing great. Having one of the best days she’s had in a while. She said to say hi to you.”
I lean back comfortably against the car seat, satisfied. Maura has been doing a lot better over the past few weeks, and has seemed more like herself than she has in a long time. It’s had a definite, marked effect on Olivia’s mood, too. She seems less stressed lately. More cheerful.
Plus, it’s nice to see Maura doing so well. She still needs some extra care, so I’ve been paying for a home nurse to come to her house and help her most of the time. I want her family to be able to be her family, not her caregivers.
Maura and I have started to become close, and even Robert likes me again, which is a relief. I was worried, after everything that happened, that he wouldn’t see me as anything more than a heartbreaker. But he’s come around.
“Good,” I say. “Tell her I said hi.”
“You can tell her yourself when we go over for dinner,” Olivia reminds me.
“Of course. Can’t wait.”
“I’ll be home in a few hours,” she says. “Sorry, just a few more things to take care of before I head out.”
“No rush,” I tell her. “Take your time. I can’t wait to see you.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
We hang up at the same time, and I lean against the car window, unable to keep the automatic smile off my face.
When I arrive back at the apartment, I collapse onto the couch for just a few seconds, basking in the comfort of home.
Ever since Olivia moved back into the penthouse, it’s felt like home again. I love coming home to my hoodies strewn all over the place, the sound of her off-key singing in the shower. I love waking up in the morning to her in my arms, a sticky note on my coffee cup waiting before I go to work.
I hear the chime of the elevator, and get to my feet, excitement and nerves flooding me. I’ve had something big planned for a while, and today is finally the day when I get to bring that plan to fruition.
A man in a high-visibility vest and overalls steps from the elevator, giving me a gruff nod. “You’re Reed Eastwood?”
“That’s right.”
“What do you need me to do?”
I gesture for him to follow me. “Here. Let me show you what I’m thinking.”
Olivia gives me a call when she’s on her way home from work, and I spend ten minutes getting everything taken care of. The contractor leaves, handing me an invoice, and I head to my office to file it.
When she finally steps out of the elevator, I’m in the foyer, ready to meet her.
She runs up and kisses me happily, as she always does when we each return from work. Then she leans back, giving me a quizzical look.
“What’s up?” she says. “You’ve got a shit-eating grin right now. What happened?”
“Come here,” I say. “Let me show you.”
I take her by the hand, leading her into the living room. As soon as we step into the open space, she gasps, her hand flying to her mouth.
“Reed!”
“What do you think?”
She stares, shocked, at the newly carved, large archway where there was once a solid wall. There are still visible signs of the work that was done today—it needs a coat of paint, and there’s a bit of debris scattered on the floor. Olivia looks from me to the opening, her brow furrowed.
“What is this?” she whispers.
“I had that wall knocked down,” I say.
“I… I can see that. But why?”
“Why don’t you go check it out?”
She wanders slowly over to the opening, as if in a daze, and steps through. She disappears from sight for a moment as she walks down the hallway on the other side, and when she reappears, her eyes are filled with tears.
“Did you…”
“I bought the only other condo on this floor,” I say, nodding. “This is just the first step; I have more contractors coming tomorrow. I’m going to expand this place. Make it bigger. Big enough for a family.”
I take a few steps toward her, until we’re both standing in the center of the new archway. Disregarding the dust and plaster on the floor, I drop down to one knee in front of her.
Her eyes fly wide, and her hand rises to cover her mouth in disbelief.
“I want it all with you,” I say softly. “I want to grow old with you, and have babies with you, and watch them grow up with you. The good, and the bad, and the ugly… and the beautiful.”
There are tears pooling at the corners of her eyes as she stares down at me, and when I try to speak again, I find that my voice is choked. I push past the feeling. I need to get these words out.
“I grew up thinking that a life-changing kind of love wasn’t real,” I confess.
“I never saw it in my parents. But our kids—our kids are going to know that love is real. They’re gonna see it in their parents every day.
They’re going to know exactly how much I love you, because I’m gonna make it so, so obvious, for the rest of our lives. ”
She’s crying openly as I produce a small, velvet box from my pocket and open it, showing her the new ring I picked up a week ago—a thousand times more resplendent than the one she gave back to me on her parents’ porch.
The diamond is twenty carats. The ring is pure white gold, inlaid with smaller gems of a rose hue. It seems to draw all of the light in the room as I present it to her.
“Olivia Quinn, will you marry me?”
She sniffles, choked up, then manages, “Yes. Of course!”
I stand up quickly, taking her into my arms and holding her close. My lips find her cheek, and then her lips; I tip her back, kissing her passionately. She clings to my neck, still sobbing lightly even as she kisses me.
When we break apart, she takes a couple of moments to wipe her tears, collecting herself. “Sorry,” she says, looking up at me ruefully. “I’m just… I’m so overwhelmed, but it’s in the best way.”
“It’s okay,” I tell her gently. “I understand.”
“Of course you do,” she says, laughing. When she’s managed to stem the tide of her emotions, her gaze drops to the ring, still in my open palm. “You got me a new ring?”
“Yeah, I did,” I say. “A nicer one.”
The new ring is visibly more expensive than the other one, but she doesn’t have to know how much more expensive.
She doesn’t have to know that it cost me ten million dollars—the exact amount my father tried to pay her to leave my life.
“Why’d you get a new one?” she asks. “You didn’t have to do that.” But she seems entranced by the ring as I remove it from its velvet nest and slide it onto her finger. It fits perfectly.
“This one is better,” I tell her. “Because it’s forever.”
She smiles, looking up at me. I pull her into my arms, reveling in the warmth of her body pressed against mine. I kiss her forehead, then work my way back down to her lips, kissing her like I’ll never stop.
Because I don’t plan on stopping. I’ll do this forever. It’s the best forever I could have imagined.
Thank you so much for reading!