Epilogue
The Comic Relief
Andrew
Andy
Vince and I are on the couch in our beach house, his arm draped over my shoulders as I lean into his side.
The coffee table is cluttered with a bowl of popcorn and stacks of my books.
.. we still haven't figured out where to put everything.
Vince takes every opportunity to call me a dork as he moves the stacks of books around the house, claiming they're plotting to take over.
A larger bookshelf is on order, though I've made him promise not to buy me an e-reader. Knowing him, he probably will anyway... I'm already practicing letting it go, but it's hard for me.
The TV screen flickers to life, and Vince nudges me gently. "It's starting," he says, his grin as wide as I've ever seen it.
Relay's pilot is premiering, and I'm hit with a wave of emotions.
.. excitement, nostalgia, and a good dose of nerves.
This show has been one of the wildest experiences of my life.
I know I'm the comic relief, the butt of the joke, and I just hope watching it won't make me cringe too hard.
More than anything, I hope it won't harm my reputation now that I have my studio.
Never in my wildest dreams did I think I'd be here: living in a beach house with Vince, head over heels in love with him, owning a successful yoga studio, and surrounded by the best friends I could ask for. It feels like a dream.
The episode begins, and within minutes we laugh so hard that tears stream down our faces.
The editing is brilliant, the banter between Vince and me electric. The contestants are hilarious, but the editing team? They should have been paid more.
"I don't even know how I landed that job," I say, wiping a tear of laughter from my eye.
Vince smirks. "I kind of told Gary to tell the producers I wouldn't do it unless they hired you."
I freeze, staring at him. "Wait, what?"
"You made me laugh. Like, genuinely. Everyone else was either boring or couldn't handle me. I knew you could." His grin turns sly.
I shove him playfully, laughing as he pulls me closer and attacks me with kisses. His joy is infectious, and I can't help but feel the same.
The sound of his voice on the TV snaps my attention back to the screen.
"Folks, let the record show that Andy's mom let him dress himself this morning. A real milestone. Poor kid needs the help, though. Todd, can you please give him a round of applause?"
"My name is Andrew, Vince."
"Don't worry, Andy, you've got lots of time to learn how to color coordinate."
The buzz of my phone against my back pocket pierces through our laughter.
At first, I think it's a call, but when I check, my notifications spiral out of control.
Follows cascade. Likes multiply. Comments flood in.
Yoga class sign-ups surge. Texts arrive in rapid succession. The floodgates have burst wide open.
"Is your social media blowing up?" Vince teases, not even glancing away from the screen. He already knows the answer.
"Uh... Yeah." I stare at the phone in disbelief, the numbers climbing like mad.
Vince's tone shifts, softening into seriousness. "I told my agent about us yesterday. I think they mentioned it in some of the show's promos. We're doing an interview next week, promoting LGBTQ+ housing programs in LA. We could turn this into something good, Andy. Something meaningful."
I look at him, my chest swelling with pride as he continues. "Not everyone's happy with me right now, but you know what?" He smirks. "I don't care. This feels right."
I lean into him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. "I'm proud of you, Vince."
He looks at me, his eyes sparkling. "This is what I'm supposed to do. Help people who don't have the chance to be who they are. People who get thrown out with nothing just for existing."
Words fail me in that moment—I have no way to express how much I love him. I just squeeze his hand.
He laughs, his tone lighter. "Honestly, I don't even know how many people are watching this show."
I glance at my phone, buzzing nonstop. "A lot."
Vince raises an eyebrow. "Well, I hope you're ready for this, Andy, because it's about to get real."
Laughing, he pulls me onto his lap, kissing me deeply. I run my fingers through his hair, pressing kisses to his forehead, his eyebrows, his nose, and finally his lips. He holds me close, his arms secure around me.
This is home. Vince is home.
The waves crash against the shore outside, a steady rhythm that mirrors the heartbeat beneath my ear.
The television flickers, showing us as we were—strangers who would become everything to each other.
The world outside our beach house might be preparing to descend, with cameras and questions and judgments waiting just beyond our door.
Kaitlynn's reaction hangs unspoken between us, a storm gathering on the horizon.
Vince's divorce remains unfinished business, and the Mulholland house sits empty, a monument to a life we've chosen to leave behind.
But here, in this moment, none of it exists.
Vince's hand traces circles on my back as I lay my head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, steady and strong. The TV plays in the background, showing us roasting each other while contestants flail through the obstacle course. Vince kisses the top of my head and whispers into my hair.
"Hey, Andy?"
"Yeah?"
"I love you. You're the love of my life."
I smile against him, trying not to cry the happy tears that always seem to catch me off guard. "I love you too, Vince. You're my everything."
And for the first time in my life, I feel whole.
The End.