Epilogue: One Year Later

One year later, June again, lavender real purple again, but now Milo knew it would be real purple, not grey-green pretending purple, real purple that smelled like wedding.

Milo and Lucien lived two places now — penthouse in New York with fridge that had 100 photos taped, from Tokyo rain to Provence wedding to baby drool to white ruins, fridge that was family fridge, and stone house in Provence with fridge that also had photos, because Milo put photos on every fridge he owned now.

Milo was 25 now, freckles still 47 on nose, 12 on cheek, 3 on forehead when nervous, black nails always chipped, lip piercing still shining, blue good luck shirt now faded but still blue, still good luck, now with small patch where baby grabbed with drool at wedding, Milo kept patch, didn't fix, because drool patch was memory.

Lucien was 29 now, still CEO but less Tokyo calls, because he hired Lena to do Tokyo calls, and Lena said "finally, you let me do Tokyo, I will make salty soup better than you," and Lucien said "you can't make salty soup better than me, my wife taught me," and Lena said "husband, not boyfriend, husband now, you married," and Lucien smiled like idiot again.

Milo's gallery sold 50 photos this year, not 7, 50, for $300 each, $15,000, real money, baby money plus gallery money, plus Provence money, plus real photographer money.

He had 20 clients this year, 20 babies, 20 families, 20 people who said "you see love in photos," and Milo said "I see freckles and mismatched socks and drool, that's love."

Sarah's baby now walked, still mismatched socks, still flower baby, now flower toddler, came to Milo's second gallery show and drooled on new photos too, tradition.

Mrs. Alvarez's grandson started photo class because Milo taught him, with camera that Milo bought with baby money, not billionaire money.

Eleanor and Henri came every two months, with baguettes and cheese and lavender, and Eleanor always checked fridge photos and added new pancake photo.

Milo's mom from Ukari called every Sunday, saying "my son looks warm now, every Sunday you look warm," and Milo cried every Sunday, but warm cry.

On wedding anniversary, June 15, one year after blue shirt wedding in lavender real purple, Milo woke at 5 AM, same as always, light perfect, blue shirt wedding shirt now anniversary shirt, ring shining, freckle dots inside.

Lucien woke at 6 AM, white shirt with no tie, anniversary shirt, ring with one freckle dot shining.

They walked in lavender field, real purple, 20 people not there this time, just two, plus camera on tripod, because anniversary needs photos too.

Milo stopped at same lavender stem where they hung family key and white ruin one year ago.

Key still there, tarnished a little, but still there, hanging on lavender that grew around it.

White ruin still there, faded a little, but still there, hanging next to key.

Two things, one year later, still hanging, still home, still forever.

Milo took new photo — key and white ruin, one year later, with lavender real purple behind, with his ring hand in photo, with Lucien's hand next to his, both rings shining.

He would develop it in barn darkroom, red light, yellow gloves too big, Lucien helping and ruining again, white ruin number three, third country? No, same country, but third ruin, third year.

"We have three white ruins now," Milo whispered, looking at key and ruin hanging.

"We have three white ruins, one family key, one blue shirt, one white shirt, one fridge with 100 photos, two fridges with 100 photos, 20 clients, 50 gallery photos, 10 pancakes each anniversary," Lucien whispered back, counting like Milo counts.

Milo laughed, snotty laugh, anniversary laugh.

"Our table forever?" Milo asked, same as first week, same as bench, same as wedding.

"Our table forever," Lucien said, same as first week, same as bench, same as wedding, same as now, forever.

They walked back to stone house, where Eleanor made 100 pancakes again, with blueberry freckles, 5 each for 2 people but 50 each because anniversary, and Henri said "100 pancakes for 2 people is too many, but blue shirt wedding was too small and it was perfect, so 100 pancakes for 2 people is perfect too."

Milo taped anniversary photo — key and white ruin one year later, with rings — on fridge in Provence house, next to wedding photo, next to proposal photo, next to baby drool photo, next to gallery invitation, next to Provence key photo.

He wrote, with ring hand, one year later handwriting, still messy, still freckled boy:

ONE YEAR LATER, LAVENDER REAL PURPLE AGAIN, KEY AND WHITE RUIN STILL HANGING ON SAME STEM, WE DIDN'T FALL, WE DIDN'T THROW AWAY, WE STILL OWN EACH OTHER FOREVER. I AM STILL WARM. I HAVE TWO FRIDGES WITH PHOTOS NOW. - M MARRIED ONE YEAR

Lucien added:

One year later, he still wears blue good luck shirt with drool patch, he still counts 20 people, he still eats 10 pancakes, he still sees purple even when grey-green, he still owns me forever. Good possessive one year, good possessive forever. - L MARRIED ONE YEAR

And Eleanor added:

100 pancakes, 2 people, all gone again, my son still smiles like idiot, house still smiles, lavender real purple again, perfect anniversary. - E

Henri added:

Key still hanging after one year, I was right twice, I am right again, blue shirt better than white suit, family key better than any key. - H

Milo fell asleep that night in Provence house, in blue shirt with drool patch, with ring shining, with camera full of anniversary photos, with lavender in pocket again, with Lucien's white shirt with no tie and lavender dirt again, with two fridges with photos, with 50 gallery photos sold, with 20 babies, with warm.

And Lucien stayed awake a little longer, looking at Milo's freckles in moonlight, counting 47 on nose, one year later, same freckles, same boy who threw wine on ex and sat on lap during $10 million Zoom and made him get mold and leaves and lavender dirt on suits.

He thought "my husband, my photographer, my freckled boy who was once cold boy with box in moldy basement that said DO NOT THROW, now warm boy with two fridges and 100 photos and ring with freckles inside, who owns me forever, one year, forever."

Outside, June lavender real purple, bees buzzing, wind soft, key and white ruin hanging on same stem one year later, still there, still home, still forever, developing forever like rain on windows, click click click.