Epilogue Return to the Death Needle Matt

July, five months later

“You look amazing,” I tell Hailey as she steps out of the bathroom wearing a sleek green dress. It’s our bathroom now. She moved into my apartment last month when her lease was up.

“Thank you!” She smiles at me. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

I smooth down the lapels of the jacket I’m wearing. It’s a summer-weight blazer, and I’m not wearing a tie. But since I’m taking my girl out for a birthday dinner and she always looks fabulous, I need to represent. I’m feeling a little fidgety about the dinner destination I chose. But hey, it’s a special occasion.

She grabs her bag and sashays past me toward the door. And I groan right on cue. It’s a backless dress, and she knows that makes me crazy. All evening, I’ll be catching glimpses of her ivy tattoo and thinking dirty thoughts about peeling the dress off to see the rest of it.

“Come on, big guy. You can lick the tattoo later,” she says, reading my mind.

I catch up to her at the door to our apartment. Rufus whines, but I just walked him fifteen minutes ago. “Sorry, pal. You’re not invited.” I grab the shopping bag from under the coat-tree Hailey bought. There are more pictures on the walls now too. A few. And one or two new rugs. My apartment looks homier than it used to, but I can’t quite give credit to the things Hailey brought when she moved in.

It’s her , really. Not our belongings.

Following her out the door, I step into the elevator she’s holding for me.

“Where are we going anyway?” she asks. “You wouldn’t say before.”

“360 at the CN Tower.”

She laughs. “Very funny.”

“No,” I say quietly. “That’s really where we’re going.”

Her eyes widen. “You hate heights.”

“I know. And it’s kind of a tourist trap. But I just had the urge to take you there. Is it okay?”

“Of course. I’d love to go there with you.” She beams. “It’s your funeral.”

“That’s not funny,” I grumble, and she laughs.

***

Ninety minutes later, our plates are cleared, leaving us to sip the exquisite wine I chose as we admire the sunset over Lake Ontario. “How about this view?” I say with forced nonchalance.

“It’s perfection,” she says, trapping my foot between hers. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Perfectly,” I say. “As long as I don’t look down at the street.”

“That’s the point of coming here though.” She gives me a soft smile.

“No, see, as long as I look out toward the horizon, it’s okay. Only straight down bothers me. When the cars look like little ants…” I shake my head, trying to clear the image. “That part isn’t easy for me. But if I take the long view”—I point at the pink sky in the distance—“it’s gorgeous. And that’s what you help me do.”

“What?”

I meet her clear gaze. “Take the long view. I was really stuck last year worrying about my troubles. I forgot for a little while what happiness looks like. But you’re good at reminding me.”

“Thank you.” Hailey blinks. “But I’m pretty sure we do the same thing for each other.”

I’m pretty sure she’s right. “All right. It’s time to move on to the gift-giving portion of this birthday dinner.”

Hailey looks over her shoulder, scanning the room. “You didn’t ask the waitstaff to sing to me, did you? Should I be worried?”

“No!” That would have been a fun idea. Next year then. “But I have presents.” My stomach does another dip and roll. I’m terrified, but this time it’s not because of the heights. Reaching into the shopping bag, I pull out two beautifully wrapped boxes, each one about eight inches long. Jenny at Fetch helped me with this project. I owe her big.

“Okay, these look identical. But this one is heavy”—I point at a box—“and this one is light. Which do you want to open first?” I meet Hailey’s eyes, hoping she can’t tell I’m nervous.

“Hmm!” Her eyes dance. “This one.” She reaches for the lightweight box.

I quickly cover her hand with mine. “Nope, sorry. Open the heavy one first.”

Hailey laughs. “You asked! Okay, fine.” She slides the heavy box toward herself and pulls the ribbon. I smile as she lifts the top off to reveal…

“Omigod!” she squeaks, lifting the trophy from the box. “I thought this was lost forever!” She sets it on the table, stunned. “How did you find this! I called the cab company. They were so unhelpful.”

“Yeah,” I admit with a sigh. “They were. Jenny tried again. She spent hours on it. But then I just called up the Toronto Women’s Business Association and asked if we could order you a new one. I sweet-talked them into it.”

“That was so nice of you.” Joy shines in her eyes. “It can go on my new desk.”

“Exactly.” Hailey is getting Jackson’s office when he opens the Rosedale branch in November. She and Jackson timed their expansion to happen during the hockey season so that she and I could spend a lot of the summer together before her life gets crazier during the opening. And Jenny is getting Hailey’s office along with a promotion to location manager. Jenny reminds me of this all the time, because she knows it makes me roll my eyes.

“By ‘sweet-talk,’ I assume you had to donate to the foundation,” Hailey guesses, laughing.

“Some money may have changed hands, yes.”

She snickers. Then she gets up and moves around our table to sit beside me, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Thank you. That was a really thoughtful thing to do. I don’t need the trophy, but…”

“It’s kind of cool to have it,” I finish.

“It sure is.”

“This, uh, might be cool to have too.” I scoot the other box toward her.

“Hmm…” She lifts it and gives it a little shake. There’s no sound at all. She tugs on the ribbon, and it releases into another heap of satin on the table. Hailey opens the box to find a rather sizable roll of tissue paper. She starts unwinding it to get to the gift at the center.

I stop breathing.

It’s easy to tell when she spots the little satin pouch with the jeweler’s insignia on it, because her whole body goes still. She picks it up with shaking fingers and widens the mouth of the tiny bag, sliding the diamond ring into her palm.

“Oh, Matt ,” she says in a hushed tone.

“Do you like it? I mean…” I clear my throat. “Can we get married? Will you be my wife?”

When she turns to me, it’s with tears in her eyes. “Any day of the week,” she declares.

“Yeah?” I crush her to me. “That is the best news ever. It’s almost worth spinning around up here in the death needle.”

She giggles into my shirt collar.

“I mean, restaurants aren’t supposed to revolve.” I’m babbling now, but I’m so happy I might not be able to stop.

“The ring is beautiful,” she says, and I pull back to see it sitting in the center of her palm. She’s staring at it with wonder on her sweet face. “I can hardly believe this is real.”

“Oh, it’s real. And if you try it on, then you have to marry me.”

She smiles down at the ring, then slowly slips it onto her finger. “What kind of wedding do you want to have?” She searches my gaze. “I don’t need it to be a big fussy affair. For a second wedding, that seems a little weird.”

“It’s not weird to celebrate when you’re finally getting something right,” I say.

“That’s a good point.”

“But we can still throw whatever kind of party you want.” I pull her in for a kiss. And then a second kiss. And one more just for luck. “Hottie?” I smile against her lips.

“Mmh?”

“I don’t even have to change your nickname.”

“What?”

“You’ll still be HTE after we’re married. I have an E too.”

She giggles. “It was meant to be!”

It was too. And I kiss her again just to tell her I agree.