Harrison stopped mid-stride, walked back toward the bed, grabbed my ankles, and dragged me to the end of the bed. “Sweetheart, if you thought going to sleep with you in my arms and waking up to… all that,” he said, nodding toward the bed, “was going to make me change my mind about you, you’re crazier than I thought.”
“Well, I have been known to be alittlecrazy. I mean… I once married a practical stranger in Vegas.”
“And it was the best damn decision either of us has ever made.”
I was starting to think he was right about that.
EPILOGUE
—
Harrison
Layna leaned over the bar, snatching the phone out of the bartender’s hand and turning the screen toward herself.
We were celebrating her winning that challenge I’d laid out for her. Though our marriage was no longer on the line.
“Your girlfriend is the hottest, most hilarious, sweetest person ever,” she told the man on the screen.
“I know, right?” the guy asked, looking a mix of confused and charmed.
Just like that, my memory flashed back to a different bar in a different town—fewer suits, more neon, the sound of slot machines a never-ending song in the background.
She had barely even sipped her first margarita, so she wasn’t tipsy yet. All her enthusiasm and vibrancy was all her own as she reached across the bar to grab a different bartender’s wrist and pull her closer.
“You listen to me,” she said, ducking her head to catch the teary-eyed woman’s gaze. “You are better off without that asshole.”
Everyone at the bar was in agreement with that. The man in question had shown up at the woman’s work, told her to give him money, then flipped his lid when she turned him down. The fight went on from there until the girl finally ended things.
“I’m so stupid,” the bartender said, wiping at her wet cheeks.
“Listen, we’ve all been stupid about the wrong guys. I once let some troglodyte inflip-flopshave two weeks of my life. It doesn’t matter what happened then. What happens now iswhat’s important. And I think you should dry those tears, forget about Mr. Manbun, and maybe let that hot busboy bang you in the back alley. He’s been staring at you like you walk on water all night.”
The bartender glanced over toward the busboy, tears drying.
And Layna?
She turned her attention to the gay couple on the seat next to her.
“Okay. I heard something about you two having anOnlyFans.I’m going to need a link.”
And as she was waiting for that, she called out to a woman who was passing, “Oh, my God. You look amazing. Tell her she looks amazing,” she demanded of the man walking along with her.
She was so… dynamic.
Alive.
Unexpected.
It wasn’t a thunderbolt.
It wasn’t dramatic.
It was more like a quiet internal click. Like a piece falling into place.
Like recognition.
Oh, there you are.
