Epilogue

                                    

                                          
Before Brian knew it, nearly the whole year had flown by. October had made its grand return, with Imperial College falling into its usual panicked midterm routine. It happened like this every year, but this year felt different. Perhaps because Brian was a completely new man—a father, a husband, the new music instructor...
                          
After Roger left for America, everything happened so quickly. Succumbing to the expectations of society in consideration of his situation with Chrissie, Brian found himself proposing to her. He thought about it many times prior to meeting the blonde who turned his entire world upside down, but not once did he picture it happening so soon or because he'd gotten her pregnant. Nor did he imagine asking her as he helped her move into his place because her husband—ex-husband—kicked her out, changed the locks, and tossed all her belongings into the front yard.
                          
There was no wedding—the two of them too broke to afford one and the practicality of such an event absurd. Their relationship was already taboo enough; if they were to organize a wedding and invite all their friends and family to see them tie the knot, there was no way they'd be able to disguise their mistake. As it was, Chrissie's clothes grew tighter every week, and her symptoms worsened as the days progressed. 
                          
By the time summer had almost reached its end—with record high temperatures exceeding 35°C—so had the couple's frustrations. Chrissie's water broke early one morning, and by the afternoon, their daughter was born. She was the most beautiful thing either of them had ever seen, and for a moment, it was like they were the only three people on the planet, curled into one another on the small hospital bed, feeling as though everything had finally fallen into place. It almost seemed right.
                          
When it came time to pick a name for her, Brian didn't hesitate to suggest Liz. "Short for Elizabeth, of course," he elaborated with reddened cheeks. Chrissie's face dropped at the idea, knowing the true meaning behind the name, and her first instinct was to shut the idea down immediately. She didn't want to be reminded of the man who ruined her life, and she thought for sure neither would her husband, but he was adamant about naming her Elizabeth, and so they did, though he never called her that. It was always "Liz."
                          
He often would talk to her late at night when she was fussing, rocking her gently in his arms as he either sat in the rocking chair or paced around the nursery they converted his old office into. With bags under his eyes, he would hold her close and whisper, "Shh, it's okay. It's okay, Daddy's here." Then, once she'd calmed down enough, he'd tell her stories—all kinds of them. He'd tell her about his students, about songs he'd been working on, about the universe, but his favorite stories of all to tell had to do with the man responsible for her name. 
                          
"Daddy loved him, Liz," he murmured late one night, so late it technically could have been considered morning. He pushed a few strands of her dark hair out of her eyes and smiled down at her, his smile faltering as he rocked back and forth in the wooden chair and went on to say, "And I still do. I think about him every day; wondering where he is, what he's doing, if he's okay..."
                          
The baby in his arms cooed and raised her short, fat arms, trying to grab at her father's face. The resurgence of his grin was inevitable, one of his hands coming out from underneath her to tickle her nose. Liz squealed in delight, her intoxicating giggle penetrating the heavy silence that otherwise consumed the dark household. Brian couldn't hold back his own laughter, attempting to quiet his daughter once more but for an entirely new reason. He loved that about her—how she always managed to keep him on his feet, similar to the way Roger did. 
                          
It was hard to say with her being so young, but Brian noticed a lot of parallels between the two. He feared his comparison may have stemmed from his subconscious need to fill the void in his life—knowing only he could see the similarities between the one that got away and the one that entered his life at just the right moment, saving him from doing something he'd regret—but it made his new situation more pleasant, enjoyable even.
                          
The baby girl's laughter was cut short by a long yawn, a yawn that transferred to her father, causing him to look over at the clock sitting on the small bookshelf in the corner of the room. 3:53—a little more than two hours until the alarm in the next room over would go off, and a little more than three hours until he and Chrissie left for work, leaving Liz with Brian's mother for the day. Brian wished those hours would fly by as quickly as the past year had seemed to, but most of his nights these days dragged, and the only way to make them pass quicker was to keep the one-sided conversation with his daughter going.
                          
"Sometimes I wonder if he ever thinks about me," he wondered aloud, dropping his head to the side and staring out the window that was dark enough to reflect the quaint scene taking place in the small room. "I doubt it, though. He's probably too busy to think about me." He glanced back down at Liz and smirked. "But it'd be nice if he did, wouldn't it?"
                          
She wriggled in her father's arms—the answer Brian could usually decipher indecipherable this time. He frowned and shifted his gaze back out the window, thinking about what the last thing he said to Roger before parting ways with his "take care," because he had said more—a lot more.
                          
You know, love's a funny thing, he told the blonde that day, all while keeping his back to him, because one minute you hate it, wishing you lived your entire life without experiencing it, and the next, you can't get enough of it. It's like some kind of drug we're all addicted to. We keep searching for it everywhere we go, in everyone we meet, in places and faces new and old, and we can't stop. We can't live without it. No matter what crazy shit it makes us do, no matter how much it breaks our hearts, we keep looking for it. And even when we find it, it's never enough. We always want more, and we'll do whatever we have to to get it because—
                          
"That's what love is," Brian whispered to his daughter and himself, tears wavering in his eyes as he returned his attention to her and whimpered, "That's what love is."
                          
I think I can speak for both of us when I say that it's crazy to believe that this story's over, but don't worry! I've decided to follow through with the sequel 😊 It's going to be called "Some Day One Day," and I'll actually be posting the first chapter soon, so keep an eye out for it! I don't know how often updates will be yet since I've just started writing it, but I thought I'd give you guys a taste of where it's headed and what to expect. Thank you for all your support and feedback with this book and the next. I hope you like it!