One Year Later.

Dressed in a little yellow polka dot bikini, Avery walks a little bit ahead of me, carrying her surfboard. This has become something of a tradition of ours ever since she moved in. Even though I’ve seen her dressed like this almost every single day, it takes all of my strength not to pull on those little strings holding up her top and wait for her to yelp and run into my arms. Though going surfing every morning has become something of a tradition, today is different. I have a surprise waiting for her at breakfast, and I’m a nervous wreck. My palms are sweaty. My breathing is sped up. As I make my way into the cold waves, I take a moment to reflect on everything that has happened since that fateful day.

When Avery drove me home that evening, she never really left. I asked her to stay the night and then another night and another. After hiring a staff of cleaning people to put her floral shop back in place, so that there was no sign of what had happened there, her friend Cynthia stepped up and ran the place until Avery was ready to go back. Within a week of her staying with me, I knew that I wanted her to stay with me forever. So I asked her to move in. She was shocked, of course, crinkling her nose in that cute way she does when she looks at me like I’m crazy.

“This won’t be good for our relationship,” she said. “We’re moving too fast.”

“There are no rules for our kind of relationship. I don’t think we’re moving too fast, but if you do, then we can stop.”

“No, I don’t want to,” she said and kissed me. It didn’t take much more coaxing after that before she brought all of her clothes over and took up one small dresser in my walk-in closet. That’s when I knew that she’ll definitely need more clothes.

Much to my dismay, Cal ended up living. He was in a coma for a few months as a result of Avery and her ingenious pen trick. Unfortunately, I was the one who had fucked up. I didn’t have enough strength to actually break his neck, so I only managed to paralyze him. He’ll be in a wheelchair for the rest of his life, and from what I’ve heard, he also has severe memory loss. My hope is that he has completely forgotten about Avery. Regardless, Avery has filed charges, and he’ll stand trial as soon as he’s a little better.

My own recovery is going pretty well. My leg has healed completely. The scar on my stomach is almost entirely gone. I only occasionally feel some pain around my stomach if I move too fast on my surfboard. I’m not sure that my injuries would’ve been enough to get me out of work for more than a month or two, but thanks to Avery and her big mouth, I’m out of the CIA. (She told Dolly that I was an agent and that I was dead and Dolly in turn told practically everyone else in my family). So, I’m finally a free man.

We surf most of the morning and then head back exhausted, but rejuvenated. Avery jumps into the shower while I chitchat with Marilyn in the kitchen. Sanchez is dead, and the elected president has returned from exile and is running the country again. After Sanchez’s death, after the prisoners from all those illegal prison camps were released, the world learned about all the atrocities that he committed against his people. We didn’t even know half of them. Marilyn couldn’t be happier – she’s practically skipping. She’s no longer worried night and day about her family members, and it makes me feel good that I’ve done something to put that smile on her face again.

“So, are you ready?” Marilyn asks. She knows what I’m up to.

“Nervous,” I say.

“Oh don’t be. That girl loves you!” she waves her hand dismissively.

I go into the bedroom and change into a pair of linen pants. I dig through the top drawer for the box that I’ve hidden there and put it in my front pocket.

“Hey,” Avery says coming out of the bathroom. She’s dressed in a light summer dress. Her hair is dripping onto the floor and she looks radiant.

“Ready for breakfast?” I ask as casually as possible. She nods and follows me out onto the patio. As we walk, I finger the delicate clasp of the leather of the box in my pocket.

On the patio, we are greeted by a beautiful set table with a white tablecloth and a platter of cut up fruit. Another platter has toasted bagels, pastries and danishes.

“Wow, this looks amazing, Marilyn!” Avery yells back to the kitchen.

“I know,” I mumble.

“What’s the special occasion?” she asks rhetorically, sitting down. “A white table cloth even. Marilyn’s definitely in a mood, isn’t she?”

Avery flashes a smile and reaches for the cut up watermelon. I place my hand on her hand and stop her.

“Before we start, I want to say something to you.”

“Okay,” she says carefully.

“I was just reflecting the other day on how wonderful this year has been for us. I never thought that I would ever want to have anyone sleep in my bedroom night after night, let alone move in with me. Until I met you.”

Avery’s eyes twinkle in the sunlight.

“And then, after you moved in, I kept waiting for this bliss to wear off. It couldn’t last, I said to myself. People can’t actually be this happy all the time.”

She smiles with her whole face. The sun wraps her in a warm glow, placing a halo around her head.

“I know, I’m pretty happy too,” she says.

“But time passed. I kept waiting for things to get worse – for you to tire of me, for me to get bored with you – but it never happened. I love you, Avery. And now I know that I always will love you.”

“I love you, too, Logan.”

I get the box out of my pocket and get down on one knee in front of her. Her eyes get round and she gasps.

“Will you marry me?” I ask, opening the ring box before her.

“Yes, yes, yes!” she screams out. I barely get the ring on her ring finger before she wraps her arms around me.

When she pulls away, I see that she’s crying. Happy tears.

“Well?” Marilyn asks, peaking around from the corner. “I can’t wait any longer. Oh my God, Avery! Why are you crying, honey?”

“I’m not crying,” she says through the tears. “I said yes!”

Marilyn pulls her into her bosom and when they pull away, I see that now they’re both crying.

“For crying out loud,” I joke. “This is supposed to be a happy time.”

“Oh, men!” Marilyn shakes her hand at me, dismissively.

When the tears finally dry, Marilyn asks to see the ring. Avery extends her hand proudly like a proper bride-to-be.

“Oh wow,” Marilyn gawks at the ring. It has a halo three-carat diamond with a diamond band.

“This ring is beautiful. But it’s too big,” Avery says shyly.

I shrug.

“That is what happens when you take Dolly to pick jewelry with you,” I add.

“Oh nonsense! This ring is perfect! He did good. Real good!” Marilyn pipes in.

Avery and I both laugh.

When Marilyn disappears back inside, I look into Avery’s eyes. She has never been so beautiful or happy as she is at this very moment. I pull her close to me and close my eyes. Pressing my lips onto hers, I know that my life will never be the same again. And that is exactly how I want it.

The End