“Oh god, yes,” she cried, leaning back down to kiss me as we quivered through the aftershocks of the most perfect climax ever.
Holding her snugly against me, I murmured, “I love you so much, Brynn.”
“I love you too,” she whispered. “I’m sorry that I was so scared.”
Giving her a squeeze, I said, “You feel every way you need to feel. I’ll always be here. Just please talk to me when you’re scared or upset. ”
“Deal.”
Her head rested against my shoulder for about ten seconds before she perked up again. “The documentary looks incredible, by the way. We could have it done in a few days if we–”
Giving her butt the tin
iest smack, I interrupted with a kiss. “This is not working time.”
“Sorry,” she giggled. Then she pushed up on her forearms to look me in the eye. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”
“Never, sweetheart,” I murmured, gently stroking her back. “You’re mine. I’m yours. Everything else will straighten out as we go.”
Brynn kissed across my forehead, then pressed her lips to mine. She rolled to her back, pulling me on top of her, telling me without words precisely what she wanted next.
EPILOGUE ONE
_____
Brynn
* Ten Months Later *
Walking into the tiny theatre, Owen was already apologizing, as he always did when he took me to independent films. It was often things like, ‘I’m sorry this is in French, but it’s subtitled’. Or, ‘I’m so sorry this is about antique pottery, but it won an award for the coloring’.
This time, as we quickly found seats in the middle since there were only twenty people in the already darkened theatre, he whispered, “I’m sorry, this might not be very interesting to you.”
“Which one is this?” I murmured as we settled into the plush old seats. “Something about innovation?”
“It’s about technology and inventions, featuring Philip Diehl, the inventor of the ceiling fan.”
Looking over at him with a smile, I squeezed his hand. “I’m sure it’ll be wonderful.”
It didn’t matter what we were watching, as long as my adorable boyfriend was beside me. It was admirable how he was always looking for inspiration, always checking out new styles of films.
Owen’s freelance career had taken off and he was incredibly busy with new clients now, but he was still determined to hone his craft at every opportunity.
The lights darkened even more as the screen brightened, but instead of a logo for a movie, it showed feet shuffling back and forth.
The camera panned back to show the silhouette of a couple dancing. Even from the outline of their bodies, it was clear as the woman looked up that she was infatuated with this man. As he looked down at her, gently tucking a long strand of hair back over her ear, the light caught his eyes for just a flash.
It was us.
More shocking than seeing ourselves on screen was the realization that Owen was in love with me at the bowling alley that night. Even with the retro grain effect on the footage, it was clear as day.
A fifties song played faintly in the background, then a soft voiceover began, as Owen held my left hand.
“Brynn, our story is timeless. We met, we fell in love, and we realized that we were meant to be.”
A collection of photos and video clips from the past ten months began layering over the screen in a soft montage. Glancing at Owen, he simply smiled, and nodded toward the screen for me to pay attention.
“The amount of love I feel for you couldn’t be expressed in a thousand documentaries,” the voiceover said. “So instead, I chose a stone that is approximately a billion years old, combined with a huge request.”