Epilogue

MARCUS

Being back in the United States felt unbelievable. I'd only been gone for a few days, but it felt as though I'd been gone for six months. Life was panning out well. I'd gotten to know Monique so well that I read her like an open book now. She didn't need to complete some of her statements before I knew what it was. We definitely were soul mates.

Our future wasn't something we'd both sat down to ever discuss, but we knew we were spending the rest of our lives together–that one was insured, it was a matter of timing.

Just when I was thinking about her, she walked in for a bit before stopping at the door, her hand stretching and holding the door frame as though if she didn't, she'd lose support, and break a bone.

I was stunned by her position.

"What?" I asked her, smiling.

"What the shirt says, you dummy."

My eyes landed on her shirt, and it said 'Marry me, Marcus'.

Cross my heart, if I could faint, wake up and faint again, I was going to do so. What the fuck was this life