Epilogue

Ella

Almost two years later

Today marks one official year of running a successful Pilates studio, which feels surreal, especially when I think back to the moment I first set foot in the space. After renewing my Pilates teaching certification, I walked into the empty commercial location next door to Little Elm. The walls had chipped orange paint, the carpets were a filthy gray, and it was nothing like what was needed for a workout studio. Yet, as I ran my fingers along the rough walls and breathed in the dusty air, a wave of certainty settled over me. This was it; this was the place.

Jude has been with me every step of the way—talking me down from mental ledges and giving me all the pep talks I needed. With the help of him and my best friends, we tackled the task of transforming the studio. The once atrocious orange walls are now a serene white, reflecting off the new, expansive mirrors. Gauzy white curtains frame the windows, while green snake plants add a touch of life. The grimy carpets were ripped out, replaced by smooth wooden laminate flooring that shines under the soft lighting.

Business has been booming, with classes filling up faster than I can create new ones. It’s all thanks to Noah’s cousin, Marley, who ensured the studio got off to a busy start by spreading the word to all her dancer friends.

My career change and new venture have been absolutely terrifying in the most fulfilling way possible. But with Jude, Sherie, and my best friends in my corner, I proudly got it done.

Two years ago, if you had asked anxiety-and-grief-filled me if it would be possible to have both my dream job and dream man, the answer would have been a resounding hell no.

My past self would be proud of where we are now though. I’ve stretched myself to uncomfortable levels, and the journey has been worth every challenge along the way.

Today, the studio is closed on holiday, and Jude also happens to have the day off, which is a rare occurrence as a business owner and E.R. doctor.

I’m making scrambled eggs, when he sneaks up behind me, his arms sliding around my waist.

Nibbling my ear, he asks, “You ready for our beach day?”

I press myself against him. He’s already hard, and I love the way that he’s still as infatuated with me as the first day we met.

“I am. But there’s one thing we need to do first.”

“And what’s that?”

Turning off the burner, I hop up onto the counter beside us, and spread my legs.

Without skipping a beat, he moves my panties to the side, dipping a finger in and arching an eyebrow when he feels how wet I already am. Taking out his painfully erect cock, he pushes inside me in one fell swoop—no less hungry for me than he was twelve years ago.

His thrusts are so powerful they nearly scoot me across the cool marble countertops. I hold onto him, kissing the delicate skin of his neck.

Lifting me from the surface with his dick still inside, he carries me to a wall, pressing my back up against it before pushing up hard into me again. “God, I love fucking you so much,” his deep voice rumbles.

I’m a simple woman; a good fuck and terms of endearment are all I need to get me off. My orgasm triggers his own, and we finish together, too drunk on endorphins to do more than collapse into each other on the kitchen floor. We lie there, half-naked and tangled up in the middle of the room, smiling like two damn fools as we catch our breath.

“ Now I’m ready to go to the beach,” I tell him, curling up into his side.

His lips find mine, soft and affectionate, before he stands and extends his hand to help me up.

We finish our plates of eggs and toast before packing up the car and heading toward the coast. After long, hard days at work, a trip to the ocean feels like exactly what we need.

We set up camp past the crowds of people, walking as far down the shore as possible, until we reach our own little private nook between a space in the cliff formation. Every stress, worry, and insecurity melts away as soon as my feet touch the sandy ground.

The coast has always been our spot, then and now. Sometimes we lie in the sun-baked sand, reading books side-by-side, and periodically debriefing each other about how the stories are unfolding. Other times we hunt for crabs that dash between the sea anemones and large rock jetty that juts out between the sand and bay.

Today, we stroll along the shore, hand-in-hand, letting the waves lap at our feet as they ebb and flow, leaving trails of foam in their wake.

“Think we’ll find a narwhal this time?” he asks, squinting his eyes as he searches the water.

“Call me a skeptic, but I still don’t believe those exist.”

“You know, I looked it up—found out you can go on a narwhal-spotting excursion. But for over ten thousand dollars a person, I figured they can remain a mystery to us.”

“Ten thousand dollars? I wouldn’t even pay that much to see a unicorn, let alone a damn narwhal.”

He laughs. “Guess we’ll have to settle for local wildlife then.”

I bend down to pick up a shard of blue sea glass, feeling its smooth, cool surface against my fingertips. When I straighten, I freeze. Because Jude is right in front of me, on one knee.

For a moment, I’m caught between disbelief and hope, my mind racing to catch up.

My mouth pops open. “Are you okay? Did you…trip?”

He grins at my absurdity. “I didn’t trip, love.”

“Oh, okay,” I reply, as my heart begins to beat right out of my chest.

His eyes meet mine. “Ella Thatcher,” he begins. “From the first day I ever laid eyes upon you in that god awful bar, you took my breath away. I knew instantly, even then, that I wanted you to be mine. Circumstances and time may have escaped us for a while, but fate made sure we found our way back to each other. I plan to spoil you rotten every single day. Make you laugh every single day. Be the person you can count on, every single day. Most of all, I promise to choose you every single day for the rest of our lives.”

An old ruffled looking seagull lands right next to him, eyeballing the ring box he’s holding in one hand as if it’s a bag of chips. I giggle through eyes blurry with tears, as he tries to wave his arm out toward the bird to scare it off.

It doesn’t work. The seagull only waddles closer, extending its wings with a strange squawk.

“Fucking seagulls,” he mutters.

I’m still laughing like a lunatic at the hilarity of the proposal being interrupted by a damn bird.

Standing up, he grabs my face, cradling it in his large hands and looks straight into my soul. “I know we’re not perfect, and life isn’t perfect. But being with you feels pretty damn near it. So, please, will you marry me?”

Tears escape my eyes, and his thumb swipes them away before they ever have the chance to fall. Smiling wide, I answer, “Yes. A hundred, thousand percent, yes.”

He places the gorgeous solitaire ring onto my trembling finger, and proceeds to scoop me up to kiss me with the energy of a man that has won the lottery.

I slide down the front of his body until my feet reach the ground. Waves lap at our ankles as we stare at each other, an excited buzz coursing between us.

Our someday wasn’t soon, but it was worth every moment of the wait.

I’m exactly where I’m meant to be, with the person I was always meant to find.

THE END