Page 121 of If It Can't Be Us

I nod. “I’d do anything for you. I know how much you love this house. As you should—it’s incredible, and you designed it. You did an amazing job.”

She hesitates, “I don’t know. It’s possible he would sell it to me, but it would be very pricey.”

“I’m not worried about the price. It’s worth looking into. Even if it means splitting time between here and Chicago.”

Her eyes search mine. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. This house or my place in Chicago… they’re just details. What matters is us and our future family.”

A smile slowly spreads across her face. “I love you. I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else.”

“I love you too, babe,” I say, pulling her into a kiss. Her lips part, and my tongue strokes gently against hers.

We pull apart but our faces stay close, her eyes searching mine. The weight of our future presses gently against us, and for the first time, it feels less daunting and more like a promise.

“We’ve got this,” I whisper, my heart swelling with hope. She nods, her eyes shining with a mix of determination and love that makes my own resolve stronger. I’m not just stepping into this unknown with her; I’m stepping into it with a clear sense of purpose and a deep, unshakeable connection.

We step out of the car, hand in hand, walking towards the house that might just be our future home. The night air feels crisp and promising, and every step feels like a step towards something real and lasting. Together, we are ready to build something truly beautiful, and this is just the beginning of our next adventure.

Epilogue

VIVIAN

Saturday, November 2

I stare blankly out the window of my office, my eyes drifting over the vibrant colors of the changing leaves on the trees below. Fall in Park City brings a comforting sense of tranquility. A hot cappuccino sits on my desk beside a sheet of paper and a pen, with a tissue box nearby for the tears I occasionally dab from my eyes.

It’s mine and Ben’s wedding anniversary, and as I write him my letter this year, I can’t help but look back on the past year with gratitude. This day will always be hard, filled with bittersweet memories. But this year, I have Leo to love me through it.

I place a hand on my growing belly, feeling the gentle flutter of the baby girl inside, and look down at the paper to see what I have written so far.

Dear Ben,

It’s been a year since I last wrote to you, and still, not a day goes by that I don’t miss you and the dreams we once shared.

The past few years have been incredibly tough. There were moments I doubted if I would ever find happiness again or if I could ever love someone as deeply as I loved you.

So much has changed since you left. Leo and I are building a beautiful life together, and soon we’ll welcome our baby into this world. Our days are filled with so much love and joy. I wish you could see it.

I believe you’d like Leo. Sometimes I picture the two of you golfing together with my dad, shooting the shit like old friends. It’s a comforting thought.

I glance at the ring on my finger, a symbol of Leo’s love and our future together. He gave it to me last month in Hawaii, taking me to a secluded beach where a blanket was spread out on the sand with a bottle of champagne. The setting was beautiful and perfect, just like the moment. Leo wanted to make me a promise—it wasn’t a proposal, but he wanted to show me he was committed to our little family and the future we’re building together.

I miss you. This time of year brings so much nostalgia with our anniversary and the holidays. I always think of our first kiss on Halloween. We went to Rachel Hansen’s Halloween party up by Deer Valley as Barbie and Ken—pretty sure that was all my idea, and you went along with it to appease me. You wore a perfect Ken outfit and kept a straight face all night. I couldn’t stop laughing. Several of the senior kids were stripping down to their underwear and jumping into the heated pool. We went outside to watch. It was freezing that night, and you offered me your coat. I snuggled into its warmth, I distinctly remember it smelling like you. You told me I was beautiful and brought your hand up to my cheek. I remember holding my breath.

Then you looked into my eyes and kissed me. The cold air disappeared, and all I could think about was that you were it for me, Ben. The only one I ever wanted to love.

Obviously, things are different now. You’re no longer here, and I had to move forward in life without you. I used to be so angry with you for leaving me, for abandoning our dreams. The pain of missing you was unbearable, like a constant ache that never went away.

I move forward, but I will not move on. You will always have a place in my heart, my past, and my memories.

I have grown so much over the past year. I have learned to love you, to make room for loving others, and to be loved in return. Just as you don’t run out of tears, you don’t run out of room for love—you just make more space for it, and it grows with you. You hold my heart in the past, and Leo holds my heart for the future. I love you both more than I ever knew I could.

I have no regrets, Ben. We had a beautiful life together, you were my best friend and my first love. I will never forget you.

Love always, Vivian.

Happy, sad, and bittersweet tears stream down my face as I hear Leo come into the room. “Hey babe,” he says, pausing for a moment to take in the scene. He quietly walks over and stands behind me, placing a kiss on my cheek. He gently places his hands on my shoulders, rubbing them softly. “Writing to Ben?” he asks, glancing at the letter.

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