Epilogue - Valerie
Eight months later…
I’m pacing up and down the apartment, impatient for Clay to get home from work. He disappeared this morning, saying he had to go into the clinic. He didn’t listen to my protests about it being Sunday, just took off. Then he called me this morning saying he has a surprise for me, and to dress for dinner.
Another one of his surprises.
We’ve been living in New York, in his apartment in Soho. He decided not to go back to Seattle, saying it was too rainy. I’m not sure that’s true, I think maybe he just missed the buzz of NYC. They’ve been the happiest months of my life.
I don’t know why - I’m jittery and excited, I can’t wait for him to get here. I keep checking the clock and then my watch and then my phone for the time, and they keep crawling by at a snail’s pace. I’m dressed in a silky long black dress that hugs my figure. My hair is down, and I’m wearing the simple diamond pendant Clay got me for my birthday a couple months ago.
Finally I hear the elevator door ding, and I rush to the front door and swing it open wide before he can get to it. He’s wearing a suit and carrying a bouquet of flowers. Tiger lilies, my favourite.
His shock at the door flying open turns to a tender smile. He scoops his arm around my waist and brings his lips to mine. He smells of musk and spice and his lips taste sweet. I melt into him and breathe in his scent. I could kiss him all night.
Ignoring my insistent kisses, he pulls away and presents me with the bouquet of flowers.
“These are for you,” he says with a smile.
“They’re beautiful, Clay! What’s the occasion?”
“It’s a surprise,” he says with a wink. “Now put those things in water and let’s go.”
We head down onto the busy street. Clay has his arm around my waist, holding me tight to him. I love how our bodies just seem to fit together perfectly, like all his crooks fit into my crannies.
Clay sets the pace to an easy stroll, even when I try to speed us up. He lets out a deep, baritone laugh.
“Are you impatient or something? You keep trying to drag me along.”
“I’m just wanting to get to where we’re going! You know how I hate surprises.”
“You love surprises. Don’t even pretend like you don’t.”
He gives me a sidelong glance and my cheeks blush. I roll my eyes in an exaggerated motion but I know he’s right. I love his surprises. Almost as much as I love him.
I resign myself to his slow stroll. His arm around me fills me with warmth, knowing that I’m walking next to the man I love. Next to the man who loves me.
“Do you know what today is?” He asks me as we walk.
“Umm.. Sunday?”
“Very astute,” he says sarcastically. “No, it’s one year since you walked into my office. One year since you walked into my life.”
My heart flutters. He’s right.
“You remembered,” I breathe.
“Remembered? It was the best day of my life.”
We walk for ten minutes and then Clay pulls me down a street. Halfway down the block he slows to a stop.
“We’re here!” He says with a smile.
I look up at the building and my jaw drops. Gallant’s. It’s New York City’s most popular new restaurant. It’s booked up for months, you basically need to be an A-list celebrity to get a table.
“Clay! How…?”
“The owner was one of my patients. Owed me a favour. Doesn’t matter because tonight we have the best seat in the house.”
He’s not wrong. The Maitre D sits us down at a table on a dais, away from most other people. There’s a small privacy screen halfway around the dais so it feels like we have our own little area of the restaurant.
It’s nothing if not grand. The lights are low with candles on every table. I glance around the room at the couples, businessmen, socialites, and wonder how we got to sit where we are.
“Good evening, Dr. O’Neill. So glad you could join us tonight,” a booming voice says. “Ah! And this must be Miss Brooks.”
I turn to see a portly man with ruddy cheeks and long grey whiskers.
“Mr. Rickshaw! Thank you for having us.” Clay stands up and shakes his hand. Mr Rickshaw reaches over to me and takes my hand in his, bowing slightly over it and brushing it lightly with his lips. I blush and nod my head, not really knowing what to do in response.
“It’s my pleasure. I won’t take any more of your time. I trust you will enjoy our nine course degustation. The wine is paired specifically for each dish. Enjoy your evening.” And with a wink, he’s away.
What follows is one of the most delicious meals I’ve ever experienced. Each dish is more delicious than the last, and the waiters keep our wine glasses full. Clay’s eyes are sparkling in the candlelight, but I can’t help but wonder if there’s an extra sparkle to them tonight.
The ninth course is dessert. A decadent dome of chocolate is placed in front of me and Clay raises his glass.
“To us,” he says simply.
I smile, starry-eyed. He’s the most handsome man I’ve ever seen, and there’s no one I’d rather be here with. There’s no one I’d rather be anywhere with.
“I love you,” I reply.
“Should we tuck in?” Clay asks with a grin. “I know you’re dying to eat that.”
I giggle and pick up my fork. I try to slice through the dome of chocolate with my fork but instead just break the shell. I try again, clearing parts of the shell away to reveal a small box. I look up at Clay, brows furrowed in confusion. He’s beaming at me, and his eyes are definitely sparkling.
I pick up the box off the plate and open it up. Inside is a beautiful, gleaming diamond ring that’s sparkling just as much as Clay’s eyes.
Without me realising what he’s doing, he appears next to me on a bended knee and gently takes the box from me.
“Valerie Brooks. You’ve made me a happy man. I never want to be apart from you. Marry me.”
Just like the movies, my hands fly up to my mouth. My vision is blurry from the tears that appear from nowhere in my eyes. I’m speechless, all I can do is nod my head and hope I’m not ugly-crying. He slips the ring over my finger and wraps me in his arms, twirling me in a circle on the dais.
I hear applause and realise the entire restaurant has witnessed his proposal. We stand and smile, me more bashfully than Clay. He’s beaming, and look up at him and know that I’m the luckiest person in the world.
A waiter appears with a bottle of champagne for us. “Compliments of the house,” he says.
We drink a toast together and I turn away from Clay, knowing if I keep staring at him I’ll start crying again. My eyes sweep across the room as I try to compose myself.
In the back corner, I notice a face that looks familiar. Her eyes are shooting flaming arrows at me, and her perfectly straight, long black hair is once again pushed behind her with long, red-nailed fingers. The hatred emanating from that woman takes me aback, until she stands up and walks out of the restaurant.
I glance back at Clay, who hasn’t seen anything. He’s too busy staring at me. The love in his eyes brings me back to him, and I realise that her anger, her jealousy, are a speck of dust in comparison to our love for each other. She’s gone, and all that matters is me and Clay, together. Forever.
“I love you, Clay.”
“You’ve just made me the happiest man in the world, Val. I love you too.”
He leans over and kisses me like I’ve never been kissed before. It’s tender and soft, it’s a hint of desire wrapped up in pure, true love.