Chapter 18 - Epilogue – One Year LaterOne year later, the rain in Portland was falling in that gentle, rhythmic way that made staying indoors feel like a luxury.
I sat at my editing desk, listening to a clean, perfectly mastered podcast track through my monitors. But I wasn't in my old apartment anymore. We had moved into a spacious loft downtown—one with soaring ceilings, professional acoustics, and, most importantly, a heavy, sturdy leather sofa that had been thoroughly stress-tested.
From the kitchen came the familiar sound of a coffee maker hissing to life, followed by the soft clink of ceramic mugs.
Lily walked into the studio, wearing an oversized paint-splattered shirt, holding two cups of black coffee. She set mine down on the desk, leaned over, and kissed my cheek.
"Gallery review in San Francisco just called," she said casually, pulling up a chair beside me. "They want a permanent retrospective of The Threshold collection."
"That's huge," I smiled, spinning my chair around to face her. "Looks like you're officially a big-deal artist now."
"And you're officially a big-deal audio producer," she countered, pointing at my monitor, where a major podcast network logo was glowing brightly. "Guess we both survived the disaster Noah engineered."
My phone buzzed on the desk. A text from Noah flashed across the screen:
Noah: Sunday dinner at my place. Bring wine. And if you guys break any more furniture, you're buying me a new sectional.
I chuckled, typing back a quick confirmation, before looking back at the woman who had completely upended my predictable, safe life eight years ago at a graduation party.
"Come here," I whispered, pulling her onto my lap.
May you like
"Thought you were working," she murmured against my lips.
"Work can wait," I smiled, kissing her deeply as the Portland rain tapped softly against the window. We had finally stopped running.
