《 kisses and forever 》（3）

dear all, i'm very very very sorry for the super late update but if you've been waiting patiently for this, thank you so much! the last part is finally here! the first half is about jessica and jake and the second part contains snippets of flora and sean's life, as you requested. i sincerely hope you enjoy reading the 11.5k words below, and please be kind to one another. happy reading!

∞

Fortunately for Jake, this time they made up right away. Jessica was only staying for a week, and neither of them wanted to waste a minute on not having sex, so they did, and they did again. It didn't solve anything aside from sexual frustration. She would still leave and he was still going to feel like shit afterward.

But for the time being, they procrastinated. Relishing each other, his tiny apartment was their home at the edge of the world.

A few days later, as her visit drew close to the end, Jessica visited Jaylan. Sitting at a table she shared with Jake, his parents, and Dylan, she swiveled her head around and marveled over the décor. "I love what you did with the place," she said, and Jake tried to get over the fact that this was the first time she visited. Such a significant piece of him, and she'd been so absent.

"And the atmosphere!" she went on. "It's one of those bars where you can dress up and potentially meet someone, but it's also not weird at all to sit down and gather with family. When you drop by alone on a bad day, this place comforts you."

"You're spot on with your observations." Dylan's eyebrows raised. He judged people not on their appearances, but whether they "got it." "I say the same thing when I tell people about this place. We don't want to be like some of the 'trendy' nightclubs downtown with a wannabe chic clientele."

Jake added, "You're not supposed to feel self-conscious here, even if you're a newcomer."

Jake's dad grinned at him from across the table. Even though he'd recovered fully from a minor stroke, Jake still found himself checking for symptoms of slurred speech whenever his dad began to talk. "I'm sure Jake makes everyone feel welcomed."

It was a compliment on his amicable personality, but Jake could see Dylan stifling a smirk as he agreed, saying, "Oh, absolutely. Jake is friendly. He accepts everyone without condition."

He wanted to kick Dylan under the table. Thanks for bringing that up in front of Jessica. That was no way to treat a bro, even if it was meant as a small payback for the one-star review he elicited.

Jessica chose not to dwell on the subject. "I know the bars you're talking about. They ignore you and you feel like they disapprove of you if you're not dressed hip enough." Her eyes ran over the heavy wooden doors, oak panels, and Chesterfield leather sofa, and finally the array of malts placed behind the bar. "It's cozy here but the décor is impressive. It creates this relaxed but sophisticated ambiance, and I'm especially in love with the lighting arrangements. I trust you helped them with the design, Mrs. Lancaster?"

"How could I not?" his mom said, smiling.

"My mom designed everything," Jake said, his chest filling up with pride. "We've had a lot of help along the way, watching this baby grow up. Sean paid for the sound system, even though he kept saying he wouldn't invest." He'd insisted that it was a gift, and it just so happened that the sound equipment was the most costly part of the setup. "Flora did the advertising for us. As you know, word of mouth is the best endorsement, and she's social media queen. We also have a live guitar night where we support indie musicians who are just starting out. Janet's played here a few times, too."

Unable to stop talking, he realized how eager he was for Jessica to like it here. He pointed to the carbonara she was having. "How do you like the food?"

Jessica broke open the poached egg sitting on top of her plate with the fork. Egg yolk flowed, coloring her pasta bright yellow. "You can survive on serving this dish alone, it's that good. This place is a gem."

"Thanks," Dylan said. "Blair loves it, too. I think that's the real reason she puts up with me."

"Oh, that's so sweet," she said. "I forgot you two met here."

Dylan met Blair when he was twenty years old and worked part-time as a bartender. She had come in one night, looking visibly distressed as she asked for the strongest drink on the menu. After a bit of prodding and coaxing from his side, she'd told him she found out she was pregnant with her ex's baby. She was debating over whether she should keep it. At the time she was already one of the most recognized talents in her agency and was well on her way to becoming the Human Resources director. Becoming a mom wasn't part of the career development plan.

Dylan had said, "Instead of the strongest drink we have, let me serve you our most popular drink instead," and put down a glass of water in front of her. Blair was mildly annoyed, but she stayed for the pasta. She'd drop in sporadically and Dylan would cheer her up with his specialty dishes until he went on to cheer her up in bed.

"Her parents hate me," he said now, "which is why we have two kids together but still not married. They think they can wait it out and she'll eventually grow tired of me. I'm referred to as 'The Bartender' at her house and they keep asking her when I will get a real job."

"This is a real job!" Jessica exclaimed.

Dylan shrugged.

Her eyes scanned the steady stream of customers they brought in through the door. "You did well, Dill. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

"Oh, I know that. But it's also kind of fun to infuriate them," he said. "Years after years and I'm still here. When they found out Blair's pregnant the second time, the look on their faces was enough fuel to last me a lifetime. Seriously, I'll never be able to break up with her now."

Of all the reasons to stay together, doing it to spite the parents had to be one of the weirdest. But that was Dylan alright. As he went on about his current family status, of which Jake was familiar, he decided to go up to the bar to order everyone drinks.

Alesha was working behind the stick, and Jake sat down to wait, propping his forearms against the counter. A second later, a voice called out.

"Hey, how's your evening going?"

Jake turned to see a brunette perched on the bar stool next to him. She had dark eyeliners outlining her large green eyes, the color of a shamrock. No, more like the color of absinthe. He could almost taste the alcohol swirling in them and knew she was tipsy. Out of habit, he mentally gave her a nine out of ten on how willing he'd sleep with her (if he'd never known Jessica Jiang in his life). "Great, how's yours?"

She shrugged, her slim frame shifting inside the black dress she had on. "I'm not a big fan of this place," she said. "Most people look like they put on the first piece of clothing they manage to grab."

"I know," Jake agreed. "Exactly why this is my favorite spot in the city."

She flicked her gaze over to the corner booth where his people were sitting at. "Interesting group you have there. It's so...diverse," she said, like it was a conversation about the cereal selection for breakfast. "Are they your coworkers or something?"

Even though he was starting to get an unpleasant vibe from this girl, Jake found it hard to be rude and it was near impossible to ignore questions directed at him. "I'm with my parents and my friends."

"Oh. I see... the white guy is your dad," she observed, then she swept her eyes over his face. Like uncovering one of the grand mysteries of the universe, her mouth formed a small o. "Your mom's black."

"Good spot," he replied, trying his best to hide the sarcastic edge that crept in.

"That's amazing." She shook her head and repeated the word amazing under her breath. Jake's birth mom had left him when he was still a kid, and when his dad remarried, he finally understood how it meant to have a loving, supportive mom, but this wasn't the first time her skin color drew attention. At least this girl didn't ask him whether she was his "real" mom or the dreaded "how does it feel," but the way her gaze was glued to his table burned his skin. Still digesting how he felt about the word amazing, he was interrupted when she made her second observation. With a face dead serious as if stating a scientific fact, she said, "Your friend is pretty hot for a Mexican."

"You can just say he's hot and stop there." How surreal it was to sit at the bar with this inebriated girl, defending Dylan's hotness. "Besides, he's Cuban-American."

She shrugged. "Eh, close enough."

His facial muscles turned rigid, and he didn't want to take part in this conversation further. It reminded him of how it was back in college when his teammates found out about Jessica. They always tried to guess where she came from—was it Japan? Korea?—before deciding it didn't matter, because they'd simply refer to her as his Little Spring Roll, The Asian, or if they were feeling generous, The Hot Asian. Their point guard loved sharing his story of how he also dated an Asian once, as if that was a recipe for instant bonding.

He made the mistake of introducing Jessica to them with hopes that they'd be more respectful after seeing she was a real person. At the first party they attended, one of his teammates had asked her if she knew karate before making weird heeya sounds. Jessica had replied coolly, "No, but right now I wish I did," before moving on to other topics, but Jake had decided right then he'd stop exposing her to that kind of toxic environment.

"Can I ask you a question?" The girl sitting next to him now opened her stupid mouth again. "I can only ask you because some of them—people of color—get so sensitive whenever you bring up race."

Jake ignored her and turned to their mixologist. "Alesha, how are the drinks coming along?"

"It's been barely five minutes." God, it felt much longer than that. Alesha didn't even glance at him as she wiped at her forehead. "Can't you see I'm swamped? If you're in such a hurry, you can get behind the bar and make your own drinks."

"But I want Jessica to try our signature cocktail." It consisted of flower petals and flames. "It's too difficult for me to make."

"Tough luck, mate. You'll just have to wait your turn and stop bugging me." Alesha had no respect for him as the person who paid her monthly salary. None of the employees—all 6 of them—at the office feared him, either. He wasn't sure if that made him a successful boss or if he should adjust his management style altogether.

"I don't mean this in a judgmental way or anything," the brunette with green eyes said, and he could already anticipate what followed would be repulsive. "I'm just curious because you seem to have many minority friends, which is amazing. Is this a conscious choice or some sort of guilt...like, what's the psychology behind it? Why don't you hang out with your own people?"

A ball of fire rumbled in the pit of his stomach. "My own people?"

"Yeah, like—"

"Let me tell you something." Jake never raised his voice at girls, not even when they slapped him or that time when someone slashed his tires in high school. But for the first time ever, he chose to be rude, in public, and Jaylan's TripAdvisor ratings were going down the drain. "They're my mom and dad, my best friend, and...the love of my life. They are my own people. What the heck is wrong with you? I'm curious what made you get up this morning and decide to be" —such a bitch —"annoying...like, what's the psychology behind it?"

"Chill." She threw up her hands, laughing. "I only asked a question. Don't answer if you don't want to."

At this moment, Jessica appeared. She probably did because she heard some of the exchange, and Jake realized with horror that he was probably louder than he'd intended. He stood up immediately, wanting to steer her away, to protect her from this dreadful woman, when Jessica sat down on his bar stool.

"I saw you talking to my friend and thought I'd come over to say hi," Jessica said with utter grace. A smile spread across her face. "I'm Jessica. How are you doing?"

"Hi. Margaret." She gestured at herself. Just when Jake thought this might end before more damage was done, Margaret uncovered yet another one of the universe's grand mysteries. "You speak English really well."

Jessica didn't even blink. "Thank you. So do you."

"No, I mean, seriously, your English is so good. You don't have an accent at all," Margaret said. "Where are you from?"

By now Jake could only hope that this was a prank and they'd been caught on camera. Could this get any more mortifying and could Alesha please hurry the heck up with the cocktails?

He leaned forward, about to put a stop to this insanity, but Jessica didn't allow him a chance to speak. "I was born and raised here." Her demeanor was calm and bordered on friendly. "So were my dad and my mom. But if you're asking about my ethnicity, then I'm Chinese. Some of our relatives live in Shanghai."

"Oh, wow. You must feel so lucky to be here! I hear the air-pollution problem is horrible there."

Margaret, this is why people hate Americans.

"Well, I'd say every country has its problems, but my parents tried their best providing me with a good life and a proper education. I feel lucky for that," Jessica said. By now the drinks had finally arrived, but she didn't budge an inch. "But it hasn't always been easy growing up."

"Why do you say that?" Margaret asked.

"My parents spoke Mandarin to me at home and I didn't know one word of English until preschool. By third grade, I was reading English books two levels up, but people constantly greet me with konichiwa even when I explain I'm not Japanese. It might sound like a petty problem, which it probably is, but I guess my point is people will always assume things about me."

Margaret nodded slowly as she stared in silence.

"You seem like you're curious about me, so I'm happy to share," Jessica said. "When I hang out with people of similar cultural background, people say that Asians only talk to Asians. When I do the opposite, I'm discriminating against my own and I should stop trying so hard to be American. I'm either too Asian or not Asian enough, you see? So yeah, coming back to your question earlier, I do feel lucky because my parents have given me so much, and I feel lucky because without all the different experiences I had growing up, I'd never have the confidence to walk up to a complete stranger at a bar and try to describe a fraction of what's it like for me to live here."

Margaret picked up her drink and took a sip. "You should totally make a YouTube video about this," she said. "I mean, I'm sorry if I've somehow offended you."

Jessica smiled. "No, don't worry, you didn't offend me. You're asking questions, which is a start." She pushed her signature cocktail forward, and when the glasses collided, the crisp sound seemed to signify to Jake that Jessica didn't need protection from him at all.

"Cheers, Margaret." Jessica hopped off the bar stool. "Enjoy the rest of your evening."

∞

When they were back at Jake's place, Jessica wondered if she imagined it, or had he held her hand extra tight this entire evening. There were words unsaid etched on his lips, but she didn't ask to hear.

He said she was the love of his life. That was all she needed to remember when she headed for Mozambique the next day.

Without letting go of her hand, Jake said, "I don't know how you could be so composed and eloquent."

"Back at the bar? That was through lots of practice. You remember how I wasn't always so composed," she said. "I used to get annoyed at people who ask me why I speak English well. I'd get all sarcastic and say something along the lines of, yeah, I study really hard when I'm not working at the nail salon or eating dogs."

He smiled, and he scooted closer to her on the bed.

"But I'm trying to become more positive. Sure, some people are ignorant, but they aren't necessarily ill-intentioned. They will notice I look different, but instead of getting offended, I'll educate them."

"Don't you want to avoid that kind of hostility altogether?"

"Remember when we were in college and that party you took me to?"

"Gosh, yes. How can I forget?"

"At the time we decided we'd stop wasting our precious time to deal with them. You wanted to protect me. We'd hide in your room where we could be ourselves," Jessica said, the nostalgia catching up with her. "But I'm older now, and I've finally come to terms with myself and my identity."

"You handle it so well," Jake said.

His fingers were laced through hers, and she pulled his arms so they were surrounding her. Lying next to him, not meeting his eyes, she said, "No. Not really...can I admit something to you? You know I've been friends with Flora since we both went to St. Margaret's?"

"Yeah, of course."

"There's another friend, Sarah...not sure if you remember her."

"Vaguely. You lost touch since college...she's blond?"

"Yup. I haven't spoken to her in ages, but in our teenage years, we were very close. Flora used to invite us to her house and teach us how to put on makeup. She was considerate and she always had different shades of foundation ready to match our skin tones." Jessica was pale with a peach undertone; Sarah had impeccable ivory skin, while Flora was tanned with a perpetual glow like she'd just come back from an island vacation somewhere (which was often the case). "It was during one of those makeup tutorials when I realized that compared to them, I have a flat face and the creases in my eyelids aren't obvious enough, and everything we did—mascara to make my lashes fuller, highlights on the cheekbones, dark eyeshadows to create more contrast—was to make me look more like them. Sarah assured me that I'm pretty because my eyes are big, unlike other Asians.

"There's this time when I went to a restaurant with Sarah. A group of tourists came in. They couldn't speak much English and were taking photos of everything. Sarah muttered 'Ugh, Asians' under her breath, and I said, 'Hey, I'm Asian too,' and she said, 'You're not like them, Jess. You're cool. You're practically white.'"

Jake's arm stiffened. "Is that why you don't keep in touch with her anymore?"

"It might be one of the reasons, but mostly we grew apart. It's not because I blame her. We were both fourteen, and at the time, not only did I not correct her, but I even felt this twinge of pride that I was..." It was so hard to admit out loud, but if not to Jake, then who else? "That I was a 'better' Asian, certified by a white person. I may have...I may have cut her off from my life because she reminds me of a version of myself I'm ashamed to reflect on."

Despite the numerous Chinese legends and cultural traditions she'd shared with him over the years, this was a part of her she rarely touched upon on. Jake listened. He had an uncanny talent to sense when she wanted to keep talking. His compassion and the ideal amount of curiosity in who she was made him immensely attractive.

"I'm not saying my life is hard or anything," Jessica said. "It's not. And precisely because I'm aware of how good I have it, it makes me doubly uncomfortable to stay in this comfort zone."

"Which is why you're leaving again tomorrow."

She nodded.

They stopped talking for a minute as they held each other. Sleeping was not an option, as she wanted to treasure their last few hours together by simply being in each other's presence. She watched the hands on the clock move, bringing her closer to tears by the second.

Then Jake asked, "Jess, why do you have the patience to educate a stranger at a bar, but you can't bring yourself to communicate with your own parents?"

She turned to look at him.

"You acknowledged yourself how much they've done for you," he said. "You have to talk to them, Jess. You can't keep avoiding them because they said something negative about your volunteer work a trillion years ago."

"It's not because of that. It's hard to be in my house where there's...all that luxury. I'm not mad at my parents. I just haven't figured out how to be around them, and I'm scared that...that I'll dwell in the comfort they're able to provide for me, and I'll lose the passion to leave again. There's a part of me that adores shiny stuff,"—pearl earrings, silk dresses, and leather WOCs—"but I don't want to lose sight of the bigger picture."

It was too easy to indulge oneself. Being here with him, for example, was temptation at its purest form.

"So you don't blame Sarah, you don't blame your parents, and you don't blame other rich people, and even though you don't want to see Flora, you don't blame her, either," Jake said.

"Correct." Not knowing what he was getting at, she was at least relieved that he got it right. "It's imperative to me that you don't believe I'm bitter toward any of them. I chose this lifestyle myself, but I'm not criticizing anyone who does otherwise. I actually miss them a lot. But I need some space apart to make sense of what I'm doing."

"Okay." He nodded. In a matter-of-fact way, quite unlike his usual jokes and smiles, he regarded her and said, "but you're blaming yourself."

"I'm not," she replied on reflex.

"Here's my take. You're uncomfortable with the privilege you have. That's why you choose to punish yourself by denying yourself the things you love. You avoid people you love because you feel guilty, not just personally but on their behalf, too, and in some weird way you think you're doing everyone a favor by sacrificing."

She moved an inch apart from him. "That's not what I'm doing."

"It's honorable that you have a sense of responsibility, Jess, but it's not the same as bearing the blame." He moved, closing the gap between them. "You're a lot smarter than me and you should know. When you're guilt-tripped, you're not helping anyone. They don't need your sympathy. Come on, you have to stop imposing guilt on yourself."

"I'm not," she repeated, but in a quieter voice this time.

"Do you remember when we traveled in India, we saw a painting of a blue Buddha holding a naked girl in his lap while he meditates?"

"Yes. Dill asked our tour guide how he could concentrate like that."

"Yeah, and he said, 'Holding that girl makes him happy. Life is about being happy, before anything else. If you're not happy, you can't do anything. You certainly can't meditate.'"

She remembered. It was a simpler time, and that was the highlight of her life. It was one of those trips that made her think and feel, but not so much that it consumed her.

He traced her face with his knuckles. "Jess, are you happy?"

With that, her tears fell. And seeing that, almost immediately, a red hue appeared around his eyes.

"It's been five years." He meant since they broke up. "Five years is a long time to decide if the field volunteer experiences are enough. There are job opportunities where you can coordinate from a US office, too."

When she didn't answer, he asked, "Do you want me to wait for you?"

The simple answer was yes, but it was never that easy. It was too cruel, too selfish, too self-indulgent, and too unfair to him.

Before she could shake her head, he launched into a full speech. "Because I love you, but I don't know how long I can keep doing this. I don't want to be that guy who holds you back, and I can wait, but not with this uncertainty. You don't get to disappear for months without so much as an email, and then you show up on my doorstep, and then I have the best week of my life, and then you take off again like this means nothing to you." He inhaled, and she could hear his voice catching. "You weren't here when I went undrafted, you weren't here when my dad got a mini-stroke and I had to move back home to take over the company...I wasn't CEO by choice, that was decided for me...you weren't here on Jaylan's opening night, or the other night when a fight broke out and someone smashed our window with a baseball bat...And when Emily got married, I went without a date even though I really wanted to have you there with me, but...it's not your fault, at all, because I'm sure there were even more significant events in your life where you were all alone, and when you saw bad things happening, I wasn't there to comfort you, either."

Taking another shaky breath, his Adam's apple bobbed. "This isn't right. This isn't a functioning relationship and I can't see the light at the end of the tunnel, even though I love you, I love you so much...I told you that already, right? Every time you come back I fall in love with you all over again."

Her tears came together and formed a rivulet. "I love you, too. I don't even 'fall in love with you all over again' because it's a constant thing for me. I can't un-love you."

This was hardly a surprise, but Jake stared at her for a long time, until he said, "Well, that changes everything." A small smile tugged at his lips.

"It doesn't change anything. I never asked you to wait for me because asking that of you is selfish."

"No. No, not asking and stringing me along is selfish," he said. "Deciding for the both of us is selfish. And when you encourage me to sleep around, even though it tears you apart, you're being dishonest. I'm always honest with you, Jessica, and I deserve being treated the same."

She pushed her hand over her face, wiping it dry. "Okay. What do you want to know?"

"If there's an end to this. I thought you just wanted a vacation every time you're here. Now that I know you love me, too, I want to be included in your plan. Do you see yourself living back here someday?"

Even though she longed to reply with positivity, she had to stay honest, as he requested. "At this point, I can't promise you that."

"Can you promise you'll start thinking hard about it?"

"Yes."

"Can you promise the next time you come back, you'll let me know in advance? So I get to pick you up at the airport."

"Yes," she said, tears welling up again.

"And can you promise we'll call your parents? We'll meet them for dinner next time and play mahjong with your mom."

Nodding, she leaned in and put her arms around him, inhaling in the freshness and warmth of his cologne, of him, and let herself be swayed. It felt glorious to be comforted, to be included, to be thought of so tenderly, and even though she adored how he stayed the same through the years, for some reason he seemed to have matured quite a bit in his hometown while she traveled the world.

Perhaps the things that mattered most were often simple. As he suggested, that fact that he loved her and she loved him back was enough to fix everything.

Jake stroked her hair. "Okay, that's good enough for now. I've got plenty of promises to keep me going. When you're ready to come home, I'll be here."

∞

"So he starts picking me up at the airport every time I come back," Jessica said.

Sitting next to her on a bar stool at Jaylan, Flora Morgan nodded wildly. Her hair was secured in a high ponytail, and she could feel it swish left and right against her neck whenever she moved her head.

Just a normal Saturday night out, but with the best crowd.

Jessica came back, and it wasn't as a visitor this time. She was staying for keeps, and ever since she stepped off the airplane, they had been texting to catch up on lost time.

Flora missed this. She missed seeing Jessica in a pair of faux leather leggings, Alexander Wang tee and rose matte lipstick, too. It was about a sense of nostalgia she couldn't explain.

"And when he greets me at the arrival gate," Jessica said, "he brings me framed pictures of stuff I like."

"Framed pictures?"

"Yeah, for example, pictures of designer shoes." Jessica glanced down at the drink in her hand. "I don't want to actually buy those things, at least, I try to save money and limit the things I buy, but they sure are pleasing to look at. So Jake select an item each time, and then we go back to his place and hang the pictures on a wall, so now we have, um, a luxury corner in his apartment, for me. I have bags and VC&A necklaces...I even have a convertible." She laughed, a little uneasily, when she caught her expression. "Does that sound pathetic?"

Flora felt her eyes widen. "No, of course not. Not in the least. It's sweet of him, actually. I just thought...do you still like those things?"

"Of course. Who can resist the charms of a Louis Vuitton Alma or a YSL Tribute Tote?"

A wave of relief swept over her, even though she didn't know why. Back in the day, Jessica was the only friend she had who enjoyed extravagant themed parties and talking to boys as much as she did. But ever since she flew off and devoted her energy to volunteer work, Flora was left behind in this material world by herself. Man, it was lonely out here.

"I assumed..." Flora started, even though she wasn't sure she wanted to go down this path. "You haven't hung out with me much these years and I guess I was afraid to talk to you about petty things like boys and fashion trends. I mean, you're working for such a noble cause and I throw parties for a living." Flora, don't say it. Don't make this weird. "Sometimes...sometimes I'm scared you don't like me anymore."

Jessica flinched. "I'm sorry I acted like that. It's nothing personal, you have to believe me." She sighed. "I pretty much cut everyone out from my life, not because I'm on some moral high horse although it may seem that way, but..."

Flora waited. The icy beads on her glass slid down the wall and formed a small pool.

"To be honest," Jessica said, "I was jealous of you."

Her mouth dropped open. "Why?"

She was Jessica Jiang, heir to one of the most prestigious hotel chains in the country, but she gave that up to pursue a career in humanitarian relief work. She had a dream relationship, but she walked away, leaving Jake behind to take care of the cat she talked him into adopting. To Flora, Jessica was the kind of person that could own everything but also had the power to relinquish it all. She was so in control.

"Because you were living the life you always wanted with the person you always loved," Jessica said. "I envied your confidence of knowing what to seek. It took me a bit of time to get over myself, but I've finally come to terms with life."

"Jess, I thought everything was a conscious choice on your part."

"You're absolutely right. I had a choice, and at the time I thought it was what I wanted until it made me sad. So I came back, and I'm glad I did, but when everything was still up in the air...during that period when I doubted my decisions, it was difficult."

"It must've been tough, especially since you were away by yourself. But I'm ecstatic things worked out, and I'm so happy you're back!"

Jessica smiled, picking up her drink. "Me too. I'll be navigating things from here. Even though I don't deal with issues first hand, I have a bigger responsibility now, and hopefully I can help more people this way. I'm also doing some collaborations with my dad's hotels."

"That's wonderful. I've always thought that if you want to achieve bigger things, you need allies. Especially ones who have money and power."

"And ones with visibility..." Jessica looked at her. "You have 930k subscribers to your style blog, any chance you could—"

"Yes, Jess. Give me a list of the causes you want to promote. I'll help you raise awareness." Flora smiled. "Use me any way you can, that's what friends are for."

"Thank you, Flora." Jessica's gaze swept over the bar and the customers that swarmed. "I know you also wrote several articles on why Jaylan is the best place to be on the East coast. That really helped."

"I do what I can. They're doing so well, right? I feel this immense pride when I tell people I know the owners."

"Yeah, they're thinking of opening another bar, maybe in New York. But it's still under discussion. Jake and Dill are the heart and soul of this place, they're what makes this place enchanting. It's not easy to replicate that just by using the same brand name."

Flora nodded. They sipped their drinks in a relaxing silence that followed, spoiling themselves with the ambiance the bar provided. British rock was playing from every corner, and even though it was completely full, it wasn't loud enough to hinder conversations. Added to that, her favorite part had to be how unlike other bars she'd been to, this place was a hundred percent smoke-free.

"Hey, please don't feel like you can't discuss certain things with me," Jessica said. "I'm still down to chat about whatever."

"Okay." Setting down her glass, Flora leaned in. "Tell me how Jake proposed! I'm dying to know every little detail."

A chuckle escaped out of Jessica, like she already knew this was coming up. There was no way Flora would end the conversation without discovering exactly how things went down. "It's nothing grand, really. He came to pick me up at the airport as usual and pulled out another framed picture. I was expecting something like a private island this time. Then he got down on his knees—"

Flora gasped. "In front of everyone?"

"Yeah, you know, at the arrival gate where lots of people are waiting with signs. He gave me a picture of a diamond ring. I shrugged and said, 'eh, I thought I was getting a dick pic this time, but I guess this is the second best thing.'"

"I love it," Flora said, laughing with her heart warm. "Did you cry?"

"No, because he made it difficult to cry. He tried to ask the question in Mandarin and he literally had to repeat it three times. Then he said, Jessica, I'll treat you the way Trump treats America—I'll always put you first."

"I'm not sure if that's romantic or plain creepy," Flora said, then they both laughed.

"So I said I'll marry him, and we went back to Jaylan and had a small celebration with the customers there. Nothing special, really."

"That sounds perfect. Congrats again, Jess." Flora moved her cocktail forward to clink glasses.

"I heard your proposal party was epic," Jessica said, pointing to Flora's sparkling engagement ring. "I'm sorry I missed it."

"Yeah, I wish you were here, too. Sean sat on a bench calmly and I ugly-cried all the way through." She held out her hand and let Jessica admire the ring, and jokingly she said, "It's not bad to be rich, right? Look at this, look how it shines. Sorry if it hurts your eyes."

"Asscher cut, of course. What's the point of wearing diamonds if you can't rub in other people's faces?" Jessica was stifling a smile, and Flora was delighted to find she was so comfortable around her oldest friend, who'd started buying Mikimoto diamond jewelry before anyone else. "But are you sure that's legitimate?" Jessica asked, putting on a mock frown. "Because conflict diamonds contribute to human rights abuse and unfair labor practices. I can't talk to you."

Flora only froze for one second. "Exactly, that's why you have to know your supplier. You only purchase from trustworthy sources and reputable jewelers, like Harry Winston, and ask for a written guarantee. I did my homework."

Jessica laughed. "I know, I was playing. It's absolutely stunning."

"So about your wedding...do you need my help?"

"It's okay, we have everything covered. We're hosting at one of my dad's hotels, and from what I've seen so far, it's going to be like a scene straight out of Crazy Rich Asians." She grimaced. "My dad flew in three seamstresses from Shanghai so they can make me a chipao, I have this jade and emerald bracelet from my mom, and my aunt gave us a duvet with pictures of dragons and phoenix hand-embroidered in gold thread. Jake is completely bewildered but you know my parents. I'm their first born and they don't hold back."

"I literally can't wait to be at your wedding."

Jessica laughed. "To be honest, I can't, either."

"I'm curious about one thing, though," Flora said. "Didn't you and Jake only agree to start thinking of your future together? What changed your mind and sped up the whole process?"

"Well, you know how it is. We reached the goal faster than we planned," Jessica said vaguely.

"You missed Jake, right? He's the second hottest guy on the East coast, after all."

Laughing, Jessica shook her head good-naturedly. "I'm certain you're the only person in the world who thinks Sean is hotter than Jake. Not even Sean's mom would agree with you."

"Then why? Did you have an epiphany?"

"Well, of course it changed my perspective when I found out how hard it was for him. It's one thing to suffer alone, but knowing he felt the same way and that he was anxiously waiting for me to come back...that weakened my resolve. "

Flora took a sip of her cocktail, nodding. "Very understandable."

"And besides—"

"Wait, what are you drinking? Is that...orange juice?"

Jessica's fingers curled around her drink. "Yes."

"Why are you drinking orange juice at a bar?" Flora's eyes first narrowed and then widened. She gestured at Jessica's stomach. "Oh my God, Jess, you're—"

"Shhh. I can't announce this in the first three months. I know it's just a Chinese superstition, but my mom really cares about this stuff so I'm going along with it."

"Oh my God." Flora shook her head, and she could feel herself starting to tear up. "This is such good news!"

"Yeah, apparently Jakes' pull out game isn't as strong as he thought."

She chuckled. "How did he react?" Certainly not "the word daddy gives me erectile dysfunction."

"He was...overjoyed. He had this huge smile on his face, and then he pulled up my shirt to kiss my tummy. Now he insists on talking to my tummy instead of to my face, and asks me not to interrupt them, which is getting super annoying."

Flora jumped off the bar stool to hug Jessica. When they broke apart, they both glanced over to the other side of the bar, where Jake was standing with Dylan and Sean. They had been doing shots, and now Dylan and Sean were slapping him on the back.

"Ah, I see he told them the first chance he got," Jessica said. She turned back to Flora. "How about you? Do you have plans to...?"

Flora shook her head. "Not right now. We're quite happy with the way things are currently, so we're taking it slow, but I can see Sean softening his stance. He used to say the best time of his life was spent with me, but lately, he's saying the best time is yet to come. When we have kids."

"I noticed the plural there."

"Yeah," Flora said. "But if he wants to name it Child One and Child Two, I'll have to fight him."

∞

Flora: Done! coming home April 14 09:25 PM

Sean: come back

Sean: be with me

Flora: did you eat?

Sean: I had Chinese takeout. see you soon

As her apartment came into sight, Flora started walking faster, wishing her Saint Laurent strappy heels could carry her back to him right this second. It was only a few more steps, but the distance seemed immense when a heart was full. It'd been another night out working, another night of leaving her boyfriend—no, wait—fiancé home by himself, and she couldn't wait for him to warm her skin.

Fiancé. She loved, loved, loved the word.

The intern at her office, Stacey, asked why she never stayed for the second round. Flora would leave as soon as work was finished, because even though she was passionate about her job, she didn't let it slip pass that line into her personal life. When it was done, there was no point lingering for another drink.

Was that boring, like Stacey suggested? No, she found it rather romantic that she had somewhere else to be.

Sliding her keys into the lock, she turned. Soft jazz filled the air and slipped through the door crack. Under the lamp, Sean sat at the dining table with his laptop, a glass of red wine before him. Light accentuated the angles on his face and the curves of his biceps.

Her mind condensed the whole image into one single word; home.

If her life was made into a regular rom-com, this would be the part where he accused her that she'd changed and that the city had tarnished her, that she was too busy chasing the glitzy and ritzy stuff and that he missed the girl-next-door. Luckily Flora had never played that part in her life. She was always the diva, and he never seemed to mind.

Sean looked up, his eyes crinkling up at the edges. His smile was the best-kept secret in New York City.

"Hey, welcome back," he said. He said that every evening, with the same seductive warmth in his voice, before getting up to greet her. "How was the bistro opening?"

Flora kicked off her shoes and took off her coat, revealing the sparkly gold dress with sequins she wore underneath. "It was so fun! They have the best tempura, and there's this specialty cocktail that borrows inspiration from miso soup. Sounds weird, I know, but it's delicious! It even has pieces of seaweed in it. Everyone had a blast!"

"You did it again," he said, sitting down on the sofa next to her.

"You should have come with me."

"Nah, it's okay. I don't want to distract you at work." He handed over a cushion, and she propped it against her back. "Besides, I enjoy waiting for you to come back. My favorite two things in the world are peace and quiet. Sorry, make that three things. Peace and quiet and Flora."

She smiled and lifted her eyebrows. "I thought you'd save a place for blowjobs."

"That's what Flora is for..." He grinned. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I couldn't resist." Leaning in, he pulled her toward him and kissed her on the lips. "You smell so good. And you're stunning in this dress...I feel like I'm dating a celebrity."

There was only admiration in his voice, and she floated a few more inches off the ground.

"Wait, you are a celebrity. Your blog..." He paused. "Did you know you hit a million subscribers?"

"Seriously?"

"You did." He laughed. "I can't believe a million people want to read about why you think Tokyo Ghoul is the best anime ever. This is why I worry about our generation."

Ever since he created the webpage for her, Flora had posted regularly and her readers accumulated over the years. At first, it was only a place to share fashion tips and her outfit of the day, but now she liked to talk about lifestyle, traveling, and most importantly of all, offer relationship advice. But even though she posted plenty of pictures, in all of them, she'd face away from the camera or wear huge shades.

Retaining her anonymity was her only rule.

"They're asking if you'll ever reveal your identity," Sean said, "and that of your mystery boyfriend."

"Of course not," Flora said. "I wrote all those articles about how happiness is in one's own hands, you know, no one needs another person to be happy and all that jazz...and when they find out I'm engaged to a hot millionaire, who's ever going to trust me again?"

But the truth was, as she'd shared with Sean before, she never wanted social media to take over her life. Flora understood how these things worked. If she were to post about herself and Sean, it was a surefire way to gain more followers, but before they knew it, everything she did would be for the fans. She might even do a live stream of him painting her toenails just to get more attention.

(Maybe not. After all, her makeup tutorials had standards. His nail-painting techniques would ruin her reputation.)

It was simpler to deny temptation at the beginning. The style blog was nice to have, but numbers and hashtags would never come near her private life.

"Getting to that level without showing your face is astounding," Sean said. "People are genuinely interested in what you have to say."

"Took me almost ten years to get here. But you...you're my first reader. You're the first person to tell me I'm interesting and witty."

"I only said that because I thought you were hot. I know what hot girls like to hear." He sat up straighter, took her chin and smiled, lips tilting up on one side.

"Well, it worked."

Having been together for so long, all it took was a glance between them to agree on what was to commence. His lips beckoned to her, full and welcoming, and there was no reason to hold back.

Kissing Sean was something that would forever lit her nerve endings up in flames. She printed one after the other, each one slighter deeper than the last, until he slid further down the sofa, letting her take the position on top.

The white cotton shirt he had on rode up, giving her a display of the creamy tanned skin underneath. Her fingers went to the hem, and his muscles stretched the fabric thin as she lifted it off him. He smelled like clean laundry. After the short pause, her lips resumed finding his again. They were alluring, pulling her in until the thought of him consumed her.

She liked that he seemed to smile all the way through when they were kissing.

Even with his clothes halfway removed, they took their time. His palms traveled up the back of her thighs, hitching up her dress. A few sequins broke loose and fell like gold raindrops.

"Is this dress expensive?" he asked.

"No." Still straddling him, she shifted against him and felt his erection between her legs. Never mind how captivating he was, the fact that he was so ready was sexy already.

Now his fingers were in her hair. It felt sublime when he combed through and tugged at the end with the right strength, so that it was assertive but not forceful, sending a wave of tingling sensation down her spine. "Baby, I'm glad you're home."

"You waited the whole evening for this, right?"

"Yes. Yes." His voice was close to a whisper, and a thrill shot through her. Bending down, she left kisses everywhere, a trail of breadcrumbs that ran along the lines and contours of his body, until they lingered near the smooth skin on his stomach. Her hand gripped his waist, watching him flinch under her touch.

She slipped her fingers in the waistband of his gray sweatpants and inched it down, as slowly as she could, until he grunted in frustration.

"Flora," he breathed. Kicking off his pants, he grabbed her hand and guided her to the bulge that strained against his underwear. With his eyes half closed, he moved her hand along the length so she was stroking him through the fabric. She took the cue, circling him while simultaneously rubbing the tip with her thumb. The realization of how much he wanted it singed her fingers.

Leaning down, she kissed the tender area on the inside of his thighs. The muscles there clenched as he muttered a quiet moan.

"I crave you," she murmured, but when she removed his last bit of clothing, rendering him completely naked, she went back up to kiss him on the mouth again. The idea of him like this, hard and unfulfilled, that in itself was almost too much to handle.

But she could wait, because teasing him doubled the fun.

Sean's eyes fluttered open as his hands took over. He moved up underneath her dress and reached her bra, and with a flick, he snapped open the clasp. As she ground herself against him as a way to arouse him some more, he repaid her by slipping his hand inside her underwear, easing it off past her thighs with a gentle tug. Before he tossed it away, though, he glanced at the lacy garment in his hand and smiled.

"You do crave me," he said, staring her in the eye.

A flush crept up her skin. He could clearly see the effect he had on her.

Any momentum she might have gained gave way to sheer, exposed desire as he flipped over, regaining his power as he trapped her beneath him. At this point, she was still wearing her glittery dress, and even though he slipped one shoulder strap off, baring the top of her breast, it seemed that his intention was to keep it on. Having the raw material rub against her skin was strangely provoking.

And so the sweet torture began. His touch grazed her skin everywhere, over the satin, hovering near the parts that mattered most, but never tempted enough to stay. Her throat went dry as he slid his hands down the length of her body, searing from her breasts to between her legs where it burned mercilessly. When it came to places like her neck and up her legs, he was generous with his kisses, leaving a shiver that followed.

Flora closed her eyes and clutched at the nearest cushion she could find.

"Baby, baby, baby." Sean came up to breath in her ear. It was something pure evil between blowing hot air and grazing her earlobes, and her stomach knotted itself tighter. "Does this feel good?"

"It's...okay." It came out like a whimper.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Let me try again."

Even without looking, she could hear the smile in his voice. This time, his touch was even slower and more tantalizing than a few minutes ago, ripping the last shred of self-control she had over herself. When his fingertips grazed her collarbone once again and dipped down, she surrendered.

"Sean, please..." Her pants were erratic and loud, even to her own ears.

His hands paused for a second before they pushed up the hem of her dress, letting the sequins brush up her thighs. "What do you want me to do to you?"

"You know what!"

He stilled. His voice came nearer as he said, "I want to hear you say it."

With a groan, she opened her eyes to meet the ocean of blue in his. She pulled his face down to kiss him, and his body sagged against hers as their tongues met. There was no space between them now, but he propped himself on his forearms so he wouldn't crush her.

"Sean," she murmured when they broke apart for air. "Let me get on top so I can ride you. Now."

"I'm yours," he said softly.

When they shifted position once again, she didn't waste time. Lifting her hips, she sank down into him, and they both gasped at the sensation. After being denied for as long as she could hold out, the feeling of intimacy was overwhelming, so much that she almost went right over the edge.

His hands went to her breasts and she arched her back, fighting back another wave of pleasure. His body was feverish between her legs, and when she started to rock into him, he inhaled.

"Oh fuck," he sighed. She could feel a slight tremble through his body. She grabbed his wrists and pinned him down, bending over to kiss him hard. Her breasts pressed into his chest and he groaned against her mouth.

"Faster," she ordered between ragged breaths.

"Dominant Flora is so sexy."

His voice was low, but it struck a chord within her. She did feel sexy, but other than that, she felt a profuse amount of love for him. Her body hummed.

Sean picked up speed as she asked, and she convulsed in a few minutes. Still clenched around him, she kept moving until he freed his arms from her grasp, and then she collapsed on top of him. It couldn't have been more than a minute, not even enough for her to slow her breathing, when Sean slid out from under her, rolled over, got up, and bent her over the arm of the sofa.

"Baby, I'm not done yet," he said from behind, fingers digging into her hips. She let him took control, and a second later, she was completely filled up again. When he slammed into her, it sent her mind blank.

He drove her so crazy, it was unfair.

At this point, he finally decided to rip the dress off of her, sending more sequins raining over the both of them. Sean was usually such a polite gentleman, but in bed he turned into a different person. In bed, he was The King. She was still thinking this when he hit a nerve somewhere, and her body tightened again. Her toes curled.

"Sean, I'm going to..."

"Okay, wait." With one hand circling her waist, he used the other hand to bring her face closer. Still pushing against her, he kissed her and adjusted himself, gradually picking up speed. She saw sparks, but it wasn't the damn sequins that were all over the sofa. Gripping the sofa arm, she uncoiled, while he hugged her tight and purred against her hair.

For a long time, they lay next to each other, both panting and recovering.

Flora spoke first. "That was the best I've ever had."

"You say that every time," he replied, his skin still flushed from the sex and his eyes closed, "but I'm glad you think so."

She pushed her hair off her face. "I'm so relieved that we're together."

"I always knew we were going to be together. In fact, this is exactly how I pictured my life to be when people asked me where I saw myself in 5 years."

"You weren't with me five years ago."

"No, but I had faith," he said. "I just knew that wherever I am, you'll find me and you'll take me."

She laughed. "Random thought, but if we hadn't dated in high school, and you only met me now, do you think you'll still love me?"

"Absolutely. I'd slip you my business card and try my best to impress you." He rolled over to lie on his side, facing her. "I'd fall for you whether we met in high school, college, or now, because you're that special. It's like, there are so many alternate universes in superhero franchises, but there's a default setting that never changes, like in Batman, Bruce Wayne's parents will always be killed in an alley. And you, Flora, you're my default setting. I'll always love you."

Sucking in air, she took some time to wrap her head around what he just said. "That was so well explained. I'm going to steal it and use it as my wedding vow."

He laughed. "Hey, speaking of our wedding...we've barely talked about it. I figured you have some ideas already, but I don't hear anything from you."

Considering the energy she'd poured into Sandra's wedding and Fred's fake proposal, she understood that her silence toward her own big day was indeed worrying. "Well, about that...Sean, I've been thinking, after participating in so many weddings myself, I'm starting to grow a little numb."

He peered at her face. "Please tell me you still want to marry me."

"Of course I want to." She touched his face. "I'm merely hesitating about the wedding itself. What I mean is, there can only be so many different kinds of flower arrangements, layered cakes, and champagne towers. Sooner or later, it all becomes repetitive to me as an event planner. I already had an exquisite proposal party, thanks to you, and Fred, who told me there's no budget limit, and when I helped Sandy plan hers, I went all out and got her the best venue at that grand cathedral. Then Jess and Jake got married, and it was the ultimate fairytale wedding. At this point, I'm close to saturated with formal weddings."

"So are you saying you want to register at the city hall?"

"Yeah, or we can have a small, casual celebration with our closest friends and family. Nothing fancy, just a chance to spend time with everyone who's supported us through the ups and downs...I honestly don't think we can be here today without them. So instead of a black tie wedding where it's solemn and kids are afraid to cry, I want people to relax as they join us in a day in the life of Sean and Flora."

"Are you sure, baby? That sounds nice, but I don't want you to miss out on anything."

She smiled as she moved in to peck him on the lips. "Are you going to be at the wedding? If so, then I'm not missing out on anything."

∞

Flora's wedding wasn't how she'd always envisioned as a little girl. There was no Viennese dessert station display, chocolate fountain, no statement chandeliers or flower walls. They didn't receive any wrapped presents, either, because Sean had compiled a list of charity registries in lieu of wedding gifts.

But it wasn't quite the simple celebration she'd described to Sean, either. When Fred Bankole heard what they'd decided on, a vein almost popped in his forehead.

"Airbnb?" He shook his head. "Seany, how could you? How could you let Flo get married in some stranger's backyard?"

A look of embarrassment fleeted over her fiancé's face. "I tried—"

"Have you gone bankrupt? No, not on my watch. I don't endorse this."

Flora cleared her throat. "Thanks for looking out for us, but I honestly feel that after having been in love with Sean for the past ten years, the wedding is mostly a formality. I just want a venue to host our friends and family, and with the money saved, we can afford to treat everyone to a weekend vacation in a resort somewhere."

Fred rubbed his thumb and index finger along his jaw. "What kind of resort?"

"Just somewhere with a pool..." Trailing off, she already knew Fred wouldn't be up for this so-called resort trip.

"Another Airbnb?"

"Okay, the point isn't to impress people with how much money we have but to share an important moment of our life with them, so I'm not looking for anything over-the-top," Flora said. "It makes some people self-conscious. So as long as the place is big enough, and the kids can run around freely, that will do."

Fred remained unconvinced as if he was the one getting married. "There's nothing that irritates me more than rich people pretending to be poor. The insincerity. Are you going to serve Chipotle, too?"

Flora exchanged a look with Sean, who happened to love their burritos.

"I'm not saying you should splurge, and I know Seany doesn't have a lot of cash," Fred said, meaning that unless he sold his shares of the company stocks, Sean's money was all tied up. "But your wedding venue should at least reflect who you are. If you've never stayed at an Airbnb apartment before, how is that a day in the life of Flora and Sean?"

Sean stuffed his hands into his pockets. "That's a valid point."

Fred cracked his knuckles and regarded Flora evenly. He knew that she was the one calling the shots. "How would you feel about a villa with 14 bedrooms, a garden, view of the bay, a wine cellar, an all-weather tennis court, and a heated pool? You can hold your reception there, and for those who want to stay for the weekend, the beach is close by, and some vineyards and a brewery are just a short drive away. There are plenty of boutiques, too."

Sean's eyebrow raised.

"I have a waterfront estate at the Hamptons," Fred said.

Flora sighed dramatically and put a hand over her heart, for theatrical effect. "Freddie, if I were only allowed to have one friend for the rest of my life, I'd choose you."

So here they were.

Fred's enormous property was renovated by world-renowned designers. There wasn't one corner of grandeur that didn't make her gasp in amazement. Stepping through the Corinthian style columns by the elaborate front door, what came to the eye were five levels of splendor connected by spiral staircases. The marble baths and floor heating ensured maximum comfort, and the glass panes allowed light in from every turn she made.

But her favorite part of the estate would have to be the glistening outdoor pool. It was heart-stoppingly beautiful, with pavilions on both sides, and if she stood on tiptoes and gazed hard enough, she could see the magnificent North Atlantic Ocean off in a distance.

The idea of a poolside ceremony had always appealed to her, and on her big day, the weather seemed to be cooperating. Rows of chairs were set up outdoors. This place was such a natural beauty, no additional decorations were needed.

All the important people were here, but she knew how much Sean wanted his grandad to see this. Her bridemaids—Sandra, Jessica, Carmen, and Linda—were there before anyone else. Sean had insisted that Janet should stand on his side since he was friends with her first. None of them wore matching outfits. The idea was to be themselves—free and unique, and Flora also wished to relieve them from the hassle where they purchased a matching dress they hated and felt uncomfortable in. Her own wedding gown was one she got from Etsy. Handmade with carmine-red silk, above the knee at a flirty length, it was perfect because Sean liked her in red, and because she saw it as something she could easily wear again on a night out in the city.

Dylan's kid, Jerome, was the ring bearer, who carried a pillow with their rings tied to it. He fist-bumped Sean when he got to the front. Janet's daughter, Stella, walked down the aisle afterward as the flower girl. They both nailed it with flying colors.

When Flora walked up to the altar, Sean winked at her and smiled. She thought his face was carved by angels. Hair ruffled by the summer breeze, looking effortlessly cool in the navy blue suit he threw on over his white t-shirt, he made Uniqlo look more expensive than Dior Homme. Complete with his favorite pair of sneakers, he appeared calm and collected as his usual self, and she liked that he was always this way, contented and unfazed, even on his own wedding day. He seemed to be enjoying himself, but she was close to tears. There was a tiny part of her that still didn't believe she was the lucky girl that got to marry him.

She was doing her best to hold it together, when halfway through the ceremony, she heard Sandra sniffle—loudly—behind her.

Flora turned around to see Sandra wiping a big fat tear from her face. As soon as she saw it, her own tears broke loose. Sandra never cried.

"Shh...nothing to see here." Sandra scowled. "I'm just crying because your diamond is bigger than mine."

"Don't cry, Flora," Jake said, grinning next to Sean. "It's not too late to back out now. We still have time."

Dylan whispered loudly, not even bothering to cover his mouth with his hand, "I'll bring my car around. Meet me out back in ten minutes."

Sean tried not to smile, and Flora burst into laughter.

Down at the seats, Dylan's younger kid, Noah, started to scream. A red-faced Blaire was rattling a plastic horse in front of him, which caused the kid to scream even more.

Then there was the pronouncement of marriage, and she realized the ceremony was coming to an end. Halfway through the sentence "You can now kiss the bride," Sean was already pulling her toward him and landing his lips on her.

It wasn't a brief, chaste kiss, either. He kissed her properly, and as the audience started to clap, rain fell from the sky, turning heavy in seconds.

Flora pulled away and gasped. Everyone was jumping off their seats, hurrying inside, and her bridesmaids were off the altar. Never mind the recessional because the weather changed too fast.

Sean took her hand and stared up at the sky. "I thought it wasn't going to rain today."

"It's a good thing this is my wedding," Flora said. "If this happens to a client, I'll never hear the end of it."

They had become the last two people to get inside.

"I don't know, I think it's fun like this, too," he said as he took his time leading her around the pool. She wasn't in a hurry to get inside, either, since her dress was already drenched. He stopped at the end of the pool and kissed her again. "Hey, baby?"

"Yes?"

"I love you, don't hate me!"

And with that, he dragged her into the pool with him.

Water rushed at her from all sides. Sputtering, she surfaced and shoved him on the shoulder, who was laughing with his head tossed back.

"Sean Foster!"

He laughed some more. "This is the only time I can catch you without your cell phone...ah, doesn't this bring you back to the good old days?"

The smile that tugged at her lips pulled them into a full grin. She shook her head. "Look at me, planning a low-key, simple wedding, while you acted like a stupid teenager and pushed me into the pool. Isn't this the very definition of meeting halfway?"

"Yes, I think it is." He swam to her, and he gazed at her with years and years and years of affection. "I love being with you so much. I'll love you Floraver."

A laugh erupted out of her. He wrapped his arms around her and started kissing her again. She thought back to senior year, prom night, when they were both soaked after getting out of the pool. He'd hugged her tight and told her she was the best. He said he'd never forget her.

It was the hardest goodbye, but now they were back again. At that moment, in the water, Flora was more than grateful that they met when they did. Even though she agreed with his alternate universe default theory, that she'd fall in love with him if she only met him now, she preferred the current version much, much more.

There were three kinds of kisses that she deemed the most romantic of all. The kiss at the locker, the dark alley kiss, and the kiss in the rain. She collected all three, finally, with the same person. As the water swirled around her, she melted in the falling rain and in his arms.

Kissing is the easy part, but it's also the best part.

When he finally let her go, with that twinkle in his eyes and a smile that promised beginnings, he said,

"Hello, dear wife."

∞

and that's a wrap! i love you all so much and thank you once again for joining us on this journey. thank you for giving me the confidence to write again. thank you for the sweet comments that make me laugh and cry. i hope no one is offended by the mature scene in the middle; it's flora and sean's last chance in this book, anyway, so i decided to be nice to them ;)

Christine x