Epilogue

EMILIA

He helps me onto the boat—steady hands, steady smile—and once we’re both aboard, the engine hums to life beneath us. The city begins to drift away, skyscrapers shrinking to a glittering backdrop while the water opens endlessly in front of us.

For a few minutes, we don’t talk. We stand shoulder to shoulder at the railing, the breeze tugging at my hair, my hand tucked into his. Manhattan glows like a promise behind us.

Then he speaks, voice low enough to get lost in the wind. “You know, I still remember the first time I saw you. You terrified me.”

I laugh, startled. “I terrify you now.”

“Yeah, but back then you terrified me in a different way.” He looks down at me, eyes warm. “You were everything I wasn’t ready for. And everything I wanted anyway.”

The wind quiets around us. Or maybe it just feels like it does.

I swallow. “Liam…”

“I love you,” he says simply. “Not the excited playoff version of me, not the broken version, not the