Epilogue
Julian
Two Months Later
“You busy?” Melody calls out, standing in the bay door to my garage. “Today’s been a rough one. We had that one dog with IBS again. Rex is a sweetheart, and he gets embarrassed about it, even covers his face with his paws, but it’s still pretty bad.”
A smile crosses my face knowing she’s here, and it takes some serious effort on my part to keep my focus on my work. I’d love nothing more than to slide out from my spot under this car and kiss her senseless. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for all day, and my heart is full of anticipation.
“Give me a minute,” I answer nonchalantly. “I’m in the middle of something.”
“Sure, take your time, love. My schedule’s pretty open the rest of the afternoon, now. Alice had something come up, and then my three patients all called out and rescheduled. It was kind of weird.”
There’s a semi-perplexed tone in her voice as she’s talking about the change to her schedule, but I’m not at all surprised. I knew this was going to happen.
I love that she works so close and that, when she’s not busy, she’s more than likely to wander over to spend some quality time with me. Even if it’s just chatting away while I get myself greasy working on some rare and expensive car, which are the only kinds I work on in my garage. This place is a passion-project of mine.
“Take a seat. This really shouldn’t be much longer,” I say.
I’m fully flat on my back underneath a beautiful Aston Martin DB4 convertible, torque wrench in hand, tightening some very particular nuts. It’s the only car in my shop and, even though I’d like nothing more than to spend some extra time with the woman I love, this beautiful and incredibly-expensive machine isn’t mine, and I promised my client it’d be ready this afternoon. I’ve spent the last week overhauling this machine, though half that time was waiting for specialty parts to come in. All original parts, all special order, but I’d use nothing less for a car that’s worth more than a million bucks.
Giving the wrench the last few turns, I grin as it clicks to let me know I’ve hit just the right torque. Mission accomplished. Now I can get to what’s really important.
I slide out from under the car and my eyes instantly seek out the love of my life.
She’s standing there, backlit by the sunlight streaming in from the street, and, even though she’s just dressed in her work clothes — stuff that’s professional enough for a vet, but nothing she’d cry about if an unruly patient got their claws into it — and though she’d probably blush at the suggestion, she looks radiant.
She’s special. And she’s all mine.
I still don’t know how I got so lucky.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing how beautiful you are,” I say, looking her over.
She blushes, but then waves her hand dismissively. “Stop it. I’m wearing my crappy work clothes and spent the morning with a gassy dog and I smell like it, too. I know you’re lying.”
“Just keep telling yourself that. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re the most wildly attractive woman I’ve ever seen.”
She rolls her eye at me. “I love you, even though you’re a horrible liar.”
I pat the car reverently and, for at least the second time today — the first was waking up next to her, seeing her sleeping peacefully at my side — give thanks for how fortunate I am to have her in my life.
“Give me a second to change, ok?” I say, and she nods as I head into my back office to change out of my work clothes and into something a little more presentable. Button-up shirt left halfway open, slacks, suit jacket. I might spend a lot of time in a small town, and a fair bit of time in greasy jeans and oil-stained t-shirts, but that doesn’t mean I have to sacrifice my sense of style.
She looks at me suspiciously when I come out from the back. “Ok, what’s the occasion?”
I shrug. “Nothing. But, I figure if you’re going to go around looking so good, the least I can do is try and keep up.”
“Seriously, you’re ridiculous. What the hell are you planning?”
I lean in and kiss her. “I’ll never stop reminding you how lovely you are. And I’m not planning anything. Now, come on, we’ve got stuff to do.”
I move the Aston Martin out into the parking lot and put the car’s key in a little coded lockbox I keep around for my customer’s after-hours pickups. Which happens pretty often, as, at least for now, I’m still leading Stone Capital. Until I can figure out just what to do with the company. I want to do it right, in a way that does justice to the people that work under me, and puts the billions of dollars in company assets to good use.
We drive home — formerly Melody’s home, now our home — down the small town streets. We still catch a few sideways glances from people, but most of the good ones have long since stopped giving a damn. And the ones that do still gawk, get a ‘fuck you’ look from the both of us.
We’re not long at home. Just long enough for me to pack up some food — some meats, cheeses, and bread that I’d picked up this morning after she’d left to work — and a bottle of wine.
“What’s this all about?” she says, eying me sideways as I load all the stuff into a basket.
“Can’t a man carry a basket without catching shit?” I say. I’m trying to sound casual about it, but, it’s hard to keep the note of excitement out of my voice. Plus, there’s the fact that I have to admit I look fucking ridiculous carrying this damn wicker basket.
“I know you’re up to something.”
“I’m always up to something, but in this case, it’s just spending an afternoon with you. Now, come on,” I say, taking her hand and dragging her back out of the house. She goes along without protesting. She’s used to me dragging her around at this point. It’s how our relationship started, after all.
I lead her back out of the house and into the Jag. She gives me a sideways, smiling look when I start the car up and get onto the road. Even if she doesn’t know exactly what’s going on, she suspects something, but she stays quiet and keeps her eyes on the road.
I’m grateful for that. If she asks, I don’t know if I could keep my intentions quiet. There’s anticipation surging through me and something small and round burning a hole in my pocket.
The town disappears behind us and soon after we come to the beach. It’s not a great beach, it’s not all soft sand that stretches for miles like the beaches in Malibu, but it’s an important beach all the same. Near as I can figure, this is one of the best places around to watch the sunset. This is where Melody saw her sunset.
Picking up the basket, I get out of the car and head around to open the door for her.
“Come on,” I say, with a bit of excitement trembling in my voice and a grin that I can’t suppress on my face.
Hand in hand, we walk down and find a place to set up our picnic. The sky is perfectly clear, the air is crisp and it’s only the two of us and the sound of the waves.
This is the moment I want.
I have this whole speech in my head, this whole elaborate plan for how I’m going to do what I’m about to do, but I throw it all out when I see how incredible she looks as her hair catches the golden rays of the setting sun.
Right then and there, I get on one knee.
Her eyes light up and her smile is beyond radiant.
“Melody,” I start, letting the words spill out of me. “I gave this to you at the start of a beautiful lie, a story we told to others about being wildly in love, about being each other’s better half — a lie that turned into the truth. You gave this ring back to me after taking me as high as I’ve ever been.”
Melody’s eyes are shining and I take her hand and kiss it.
“You told me it was this sunset that convinced you to settle down and start a new life. It just feels right to ask you, here, now, if you’ll settle down with me. Will you marry me?”
Wordlessly, she nods over and again. “Julian…” shes says in a whisper, her voice this light, fluttery thing.
I slip the ring onto her finger and she holds it up, admiring it. Rays of the sunset catch and shimmer in the gold and diamonds.
I’ve got an angel with sunbeams wrapped around her finger.
“I can’t believe you saved this,” she says, her voice quivering, breathy.
“It looked too good on you. Even when you put it down, I knew I had to see it on you again.”
“Liar,” she says, but the way she smiles down at me tells me she doesn’t mean it. “But I love it. And I love you.”
“I’m going to assume that’s a yes.”
“You’d be assuming right. I’m yours, Julian, and you don’t even have to buy me. You just have to be you.”
She gets down next to me, and we stay there, her head on my shoulder, watching the sun set over the bay. This is what love feels like: utter contentment, and amazement at finding a partner better than you could have ever hoped for.
*****The End*****
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