Epilogue
February 14th (Ten Months Later)
Austin
I check my pocket, my heart beating wildly and my palms sweating. I reach for my phone to check the time again and see if I have any missed calls or texts from Oliver.
It’s been almost a year since our first date—a year full of Manic Mondays, Terrible Tuesdays, Wickedly Hot Wednesdays, Thirsty Thursdays, and of course, more Fridays than we’ve known what to do with. A year of sharing laughter and late-night kisses. A year of learning how to have arguments and still come back to the same bed at night. A year of falling so in love with Oliver that I can hardly breathe sometimes when I let the weight of it fully settle over me.
I pull out my phone and dial Luke’s number.
“Don’t make me do this again, man. Ollie will be home any minute, just pull out the ring and ask the damn question,” he instructs with a mixture of amusement and frustration.
“No, I know. I was calling to thank you for getting me that date through Valentines Inc. in the first place. If you hadn’t done that, if you hadn’t pushed me to go to Harry’s wedding, I wouldn’t have seen Oliver again. We wouldn’t be where we are.”
“That’s what friends are for.”
The doorknob turns and my heart jumps again.
“He’s home, I gotta go.”
“Okay, call me and tell me how it goes later.”
“Will do,” I promise before hanging up.
Oliver steps through the door seconds later, a streak of green paint in his blond hair and a smile on his lips. He kept his side job at the bar because he enjoys it and says it inspires his paintings, and he now teaches a beginners painting class one night a week at the community center, although both of those jobs are just for fun since his art brings in more than enough to cover expenses.
“Hey, why do you look so weird?” he asks, eyeing me suspiciously as he kicks off his shoes.
“I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“If you’re breaking up with me, I’m going to punch you in the dick,” he threatens, and I snort a laugh.
“I’m not breaking up with you.” Unsure how better to start this, I simply drop to one knee and pull the ring box out of my pocket.
“Holy shit, what’s happening?”
“Oliver Michael Barnes, you make my life brighter in every way. You make me the person I always wanted to be, and I love you for that. I love every messy, beautiful, chaotically perfect part of you. And I know it’s terribly traditional, but will you marry me?”
Oliver drops to his knees so we’re at the same height, and I can see tears glistening in his eyes.
“It is terribly traditional,” he agrees. “But I think it might be pretty fun, so why the hell not.”
I let out a watery laugh at his flip response, the tremble in his hand giving him away as he reaches for the ring. I slip it onto his finger and then brush my thumb over the cold metal.
“We’re not going to get married on Valentine’s Day though, because I think we can both agree that’s way too gooey for us.”
“Yeah, that’s gross. Let’s get married on Halloween and make it a costume party.”
“Oh, you are so on.”
Oliver launches himself into my arms, and our lips meet for what must be the thousandth time at this point, but just like always, this kiss is so much more than a simple touch of the lips. It’s everything.
The End