Epilogue (Sarah)

One Year Later

I arrive first.

The jellyfish are exactly as I remember them: ghostly and weird, almost glowing in the low light. I wonder if these are the same ones, from when we first met—how long do jellyfish live? Aren’t there some that can technically last forever? Not the most romantic symbol of the everlasting, I’ve got to say. Not sure the engagement jellyfish will ever be a thing.

It’s been a year since our cabin adventure; almost three, since our paths first crossed. It feels fitting to reunite here. I thought about bringing us both coffee, but that felt too much like tempting fate. Plus, you’re not really supposed to have it in here.

I’ve been thrumming with excitement since yesterday. Barely closed my eyes, the whole twenty-two hours between Melbourne and here. Think I drove my seatmate crazy, with my fidgeting. Must’ve checked my flight tracker app a million times, played a million rounds of Candy Crush. Anyone would’ve thought I’d been away three years, not three months.

And now, I’m here, and it’s time, and every second’s stretching to eternity. The jellyfish are taunting me, with their mindless serenity. In a minute, I’ll—

I feel a tap on my shoulder.

My heart leaps.

“Sam!”

“Sarah!”

I pull him in for a hug. He spins me around, heedless of the looks we’re getting.

“Missed you so much,” I murmur, in his ear.

“You look great, though.” He sets me down, and gives me the old once-over. “Never seen you this tan.”

“Oh, it was hotter than a crematorium over there! We were all burning alive, running around in these ridiculous Indiana Jones hats, drowning ourselves in sunscreen.”

Sam gives me a considering look. “You’d make a hot Indiana Jones. That boss of yours, on the other hand....”

I laugh. “Oh, he was miserable. Threatening to transfer to Antarctica, till the bitter end.”

“You’d look hot in a fur-lined parka, too.”

“Been a bit lonely, have you?”

Sam gives me his best puppy-dog eyes. Must’ve picked that up from Boone. The translucent shadow of a jellyfish ruins the effect by swimming across his face. I opt not to make fun of that, in favor of bigger things. Better things.

“I come bearing good news,” I tell him.

“Hmm, let me guess...you’ve tamed yourself a dingo?”

“Ha-ha. Better.”

“You’re pregnant?”

“Not that good!”

He taps at his chin, making a show of deep thought. “You’re home for the rest of the year?”

I smile. Can’t help myself. “How about the rest of forever?”

“Really?” Sam’s holding back a grin, like he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. “Say you’re not pulling my leg right now. If you’re pulling my leg—”

“Accepted a year-round teaching position last week.”

“Oh, yes!” He sweeps me into another hug, so long and so tight a nearby granny clears her throat at us. I give him an extra squeeze, and a little grind, just to spite her. Nothing, no one can ruin this moment. “So, this means—“

I nod. “We can finally move in together.”

“I feel like we already have,” he says. “Your dog...is very hairy. My cleaning lady stopped me on the way out the door yesterday to let me know I had an entire second dog static-clinging to my ass.”

“That’ll happen.” I steal a quick kiss. “Thanks for looking after him. He and Boone still getting along?”

“Inseparable.”

We wander through the aquarium, checking out the fish. We’ve been meaning to do this since we met, but with his job and mine, there’s never quite been time. That’s why we decided to meet here instead of at the airport. I should be tired from my long and sleepless flight, but I feel like I’m floating. There’s something surreal about the soft glow of the tanks, the silent drama of the fish.

A huge turtle swims by on its side. I stop to watch. The markings on its shell remind me of sunlight on the seabed, all waving lines and ripples.

When I turn away from the turtle, I catch Sam watching me, all pensive. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“So, I was thinking, instead of one of us moving in with the other, we could, y’know....” He glances at the turtle. “Look for a house together? Something between your work and mine? Something that’d be ours?

I very much like that idea. I do a quick survey of the room, to make sure the disapproving granny isn’t trailing us, and treat him to a very non-aquarium-appropriate kiss.

“My next movie,” he gasps, when we break apart—“The Naughty Professor.”

“That...sounds more porn than sci-fi.”

“It could be....” Sam tips me an exaggerated wink. I reach out and mess up his hair. Haven’t had a chance to do that for a while.

By mutual accord, we take the scenic route home. Sam takes us through this neighborhood and that, pointing out houses he likes. I’m relieved, but not surprised, to find that he goes for the classics over the McMansions: comfortable places. Places you could live your life, raise your family, make your memories.

Wait—is that what we’re doing?

Did he just—?

“I know I haven’t officially asked you yet,” he says, as though reading my mind. “But it’s been a year, and, I mean...we’re pretty much deliriously happy, right?”

I nod. There’s suddenly...something in my eye. Something that’s also catching in my throat.

“So, you’ll be Mrs. Lee? Professor Lee? Dr. Lee?”

“Any of the above,” I manage, still blinking back tears.

This is shaping up to be the best day.

The afternoon’s starting to fade into evening. It occurs to me that we’re literally riding off into the sunset—only, instead of this being the end, like in a movie, it’s the start of something new. A lifetime of dreams and adventures and Christmases at the cabin.

Couldn’t have pictured it, the first time we met, or even the second, but now, I can’t imagine any other future.