Epilogue One—Brandon
“THAT GIRL” — JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE
Two Months Later
The ring looks different under these lights.
It’s perfect—very Hurricane Johanna, but in the best way.
The center stone is an oval cut, impossibly blue sapphire—deep and unrelenting, like a storm strengthening beneath the surface—with two smaller, oval diamonds sitting on either side, making the color burn even brighter. It may not be traditional, but it’s bold and unapologetic.
Just like her.
I turn it slowly between my fingers, leaning against the desk in the office of Johanna’s new storefront, letting the noise from the party happening at the front of the space hum faintly through the walls.
Laughter. Music. The soft clink of champagne flutes.
It’s her world, built from the ground up—now full.
“You’re going to burn a hole through it if you keep staring at it like that.”
I look up to find Grayson leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, a knowing smirk already in place.
“Shut up,” I mutter, but there’s no bite to it. “You weren’t exactly calm before you proposed to Mia.”
He chuckles, pushing off the doorframe and stepping further into the room, watching as I place the ring carefully back into its box.
“You ready?” he asks. “Because after tonight, she’s officially your problem. No take-backs.”
I snort, shaking my head as I snap the box shut. “Pretty sure she’s been my problem for a long time now.”
Grayson’s smirk deepens. “That obvious, huh?”
“Painfully so.”
I rise from the desk and straighten my tie before moving towards the door. Grayson claps me on the shoulder as I pass by.
“Okay then,” he says. “Let’s get out there and start the rest of your life.”
I glance down at the box in my hand one last time before I put it in the inside pocket of my suit jacket. The second I step out of the office, the noise that had been background noise before hits me in full force.
Energy and music pulses through the space, laughter filling from every corner as the storefront’s soft lighting glows.
Every rack and display is curated to perfection as the guests peruse Johanna’s incredible designs.
The room is packed with our closest friends, along with industry folks and press—they’re all here to celebrate her immense success following the showcase.
I scan the room, but it doesn’t take me long to find her.
It never does.
Johanna stands near the center of the room, a champagne flute in hand as she laughs with Eric and Tony. The light catches her in a way that feels intoxicating—like even now, after everything, she still doesn’t know how much she completely owns every room she walks into.
“Stop staring and go get her,” Mia murmurs, appearing beside me as if she’s been waiting for this exact moment.
I let out a slow breath. “You’ve always had impeccable timing, you know that?”
“I know.” She smiles. “Also, Tony wanted me to tell you that if you don’t do it now, he has a ring, too—and he’s ready to use it.”
“Fucking Tony,” I mutter. “Noted—go ahead.”
Mia moves to the front of the room, tapping her glass with a spoon, the soft chime ringing out as the music cuts.
“Okay, everyone,” she calls, her voice bright. “If I could steal your attention for just a moment—I’d like to make sure this happens before a certain individual drains the champagne supply.”
“Too late!” Tony bellows from the bar, raising his glass.
I roll my eyes as a ripple of laughter moves through the crowd.
I make my way to Johanna at the center of the room, capturing her in a kiss to grab her attention.
When I pull away, she’s smiling, but I can see the confusion in her eyes.
“Brandon?” she asks, laughing lightly. “What are you—”
I don’t let her finish, taking her glass gently from her hand and setting it aside before threading my fingers through hers.
Her expression shifts—just slightly.
“Hey,” she says, quieter now. “What’s going on?”
Everything around us slows. The noise fades. Even though the room is full, I barely notice anymore. It’s just me and her.
Slowly, I drop to one knee without letting go of her hand.
“Brandon—” she breathes.
“I wanted to do this two months ago, but I promised I wouldn’t do it in a moment you didn’t deserve,” I say, pulling the box from my pocket and flipping it open. “I meant it.”
Her hand tightens in mine as the ring sparkles softly under the showroom lights.
“Johanna Rae Harris, I’ve loved you for longer than I knew what to do with it,” I tell her, emotion covering every aspect of my voice.
“I’ve loved you behind the scenes, before I was allowed to…
but now that I am?” I take a breath, grounding myself.
“I don’t want to live another second of my life where I don’t get to choose you out loud. ”
Happy tears line her eyes as she uses her free hand to keep them from running down her cheeks.
“Marry me, Hurricane.”
For a second—nothing. Her lips part, her chest rising as she tries to catch up with the moment. Then—
“Yes,” she breathes.
A relieved laugh breaks through it. “Yes, Brandon—of course, yes.”
The entire room explodes with cheers and applause as someone—definitely Tony and Eric—pops champagne way too aggressively.
I’m on my feet again before the sound fully registers, pulling her into me as I slide the ring onto her finger—a perfect fit.
“I can’t wait to be your wife, Brandon,” she murmurs against my lips as I kiss her again. “I can’t wait to spend every night making you feel as good as you make me feel—starting right after this party.”
Damn this sexy menace of a woman—my woman, forever.
A shiver runs down my spine.
“Enjoy your night, baby,” I whisper next to her ear. “Then I’ll take you home to our bedroom and give you a taste of married life. That’s a promise.”
She gives me a knowing smile before turning to face the rest of the room again.
“To Johanna!” Mia calls, already raising one of the fresh champagne flutes the caterers are passing around.
“And to Brandon,” Eric adds, “for finally getting it right.”
“Debatable,” Grayson mutters, but even he can’t hide his smile.
Glasses lift around the room, voices echoing, “To Johanna and Brandon.”
As Johanna leans into me, her hand tightening in mine—now heavier, anchored by the ring—I notice it.
My sister—Rylee.
She stands just off to the side of the crowd without a flute in her hand. She’s smiling, but it doesn’t quite meet her eyes. A waiter passes by, offering her a glass, but she waves him off.
Rylee loves champagne, why wouldn’t she take one?
Is she still that pissed at me—at us?
She looks up, catching me studying her, and the look I thought I saw fades—but I know her.
Whatever’s going on with her—it’s not nothing.
“Hey,” Johanna murmurs, pulling my focus back to her. Back to where it should be. “Where’d you go?”
I look down at her. At our rings. At the way she’s looking at me like there’s nowhere else in the world she’d rather be.
I shake it off.
“Nowhere,” I say, pulling her closer again.
This is our night—finally, after all this time—and nothing is more important than being here with her.
As the room continues to fill with laughter and celebration, the woman I love wrapped up in my arms, I know for certain—we’ve made it.
Our version of forever starts now—and I, for one, can’t wait.