Five Years Later...

The young couple picked their way up the Scores, following the winding path past crumbling castle ruins and to the sea. To a passing stranger, they could have been a pair of students enjoying a Sunday stroll. It was only when you looked at them closer that you would notice the way that they tugged their baseball caps lower as they passed, or the way that the girl giggled when she spotted a teenager in a Patriots t-shirt.

"Look!" Alicia nudged him. "That one's got your face on it." She paused. "Or a more attractive version of you, anyway."

"Oh, shut-up."

"Seriously. Do you think they photo-shopped your wrinkles out?"

"Oi!" Oliver frowned. "I don't have wrinkles."

"Sorry, darling." Alicia stretched up on her toes to place a placating kiss on his cheek. "Let's call them laugh lines, shall we?"

They picked their way past the Cathedral, making for the beach. A middle-aged man carrying a bag of golf clubs paused, squinting hard at the pair of them. "Sorry," he said. "Are you who I think you are?"

Oliver gave a long-suffering sigh. "Yes, I'm Oliver Hogarth." He dropped Alicia's hand. "Do you want a picture? I can do a quick one if you—"

"Not you, mate." The man frowned. "I have no bloody clue who you are. I meant her." He jerked his head to Alicia. "You're not Alicia Martinez, are you?"

Alicia smiled. "So my mother tells me."

The man immediately produced a scorecard and a pen, babbling about her performance in Phoenix, and Alicia signed it gamely. She smirked, enjoying Oliver's obvious embarrassment; it wasn't often that she was the one recognized. Then again, Alicia mused, they were standing in the home of golf, and she was currently ranked number one in the LPGA.

These things happened.

Oliver took her hand again as they walked away. "Just say it."

"What?"

"I'm an egocentric narcissist."

"Oh, no, darling," Alicia said soothingly. "I would never use two synonyms in a sentence like that; I would say that you're an egocentric monster." They walked past a splash of colorful houses. "Hypothetically."

Oliver held up their linked hands. "You're about to marry that monster, my love. In about two weeks, to be exact."

Alicia couldn't help but smile at the ring glinting on her finger. Oliver had proposed six months ago during what was supposed to be a romantic midnight picnic under the stars, only it had been so windy that their basket blew away. Then the rain had started. Oliver had proposed inside of the car instead, the heat blasting on high, his teeth chattering so hard that he could barely get the words out.

She wouldn't have traded it for the world.

"Well," Alicia said, "we haven't made it down the aisle yet." She dropped their hands. "Plenty of time for me to break it off."

They turned towards the water. Alicia stepped carefully over thick ropes dangling from lobster traps, shooting a seagull a dirty look as it pecked near her shoe. The bird was eyeing a passing student's chips with interest, and Alicia was about to call out a warning when her phone rang. She glanced at the screen.

"It's Tess," she said. "Do you mind?"

"Go for it."

Alicia clicked the green button. A moment later, Tess's beaming face filled the screen. She was dressed in a fluffy white jumper, her dark hair sorted into plaits. Alicia could make out two stained wine glasses in the background, and she grinned.

"Good party, then?"

"What?"

"The wine glasses." She nodded at them. "Did you have people round yesterday?"

"Oh. Yeah." Tess scratched her nose. "I mean, you know how it is in Oxford. Work hard, play harder."

Alicia grinned. Tess was just finishing up her second year at university, and she partied just as hard as she studied. Thankfully, her sister's obsession with The Patriots had dwindled over the years, becoming slowly eclipsed by her love of medieval history, guacamole, and New Orleans jazz. She had even given Rory his shoe back last year.

Rory had promptly put the shoe in a bin and sworn off white trainers forever.

Alicia turned on to the pier. "You called us at the right time, Tessie; Oliver and I were just talking about the wedding. I'm thinking of calling it off."

"Ah. He's insisting on having Percy Pigs at the reception again?"

"Hey!" Oliver popped his head into view. "Percy Pigs are the greatest thing in the world. I resent your tone."

"You know, Leese," Tess mused, "I distinctly remember you saying that if you ever became related to a member of The Patriots, you'd eat your golf clubs." She popped a piece of granola bar into her mouth. "The whole set."

"I did not!"

"You did."

"You don't have that in writing."

"Well, I—"

"Hang on." Oliver bent closer to the phone. "What's that? In the background?"

Tess's cagey look returned. "What's what?"

"That jumper."

"Oh, this?" She touched the olive crewneck jumper hanging on the back of her chair. "A friend left that here last night."

"Funny." Oliver's eyes narrowed. "Theo has the exact same one."

Tess gave a high, false laugh. "Does he? Well, Hattie says that they're back in style." She bit off a large chunk of granola bar. "I'm sure most boys have one."

"They do," Oliver said slowly. "But not with that stain on the sleeve."

There was a long, drawn-out pause. Alicia had stopped walking, staring open-mouthed at the phone. Tess set down her granola bar. "Gosh, is that the time?" She waved a hand. "I've got to go, I'm afraid. Tutorials."

Alicia gripped her phone. "Tessie, if you hang up, I swear—"

"Lots of love! Bye!"

The line went dead. Alicia gaped at the screen. Next to her, Oliver burst out laughing, clutching the stone wall for support. "Oh, my god." He wiped at his eyes. "Little Tess and Theo. Who would have thought?"

"That's going to be a disaster."

"Don't worry." Oliver took a seat. "Theo's got a good heart." His long legs dangled towards the water. "He won't hurt her."

"Oh, that's not what I'm worried about." Alicia collapsed next to him, leaning back on her palms. "Poor Theo; Tess will eat him alive."

"She's sweet."

"No, she's not."

"Okay, so she's plucky," Oliver corrected himself. "And opinionated." He smirked at her. "Just like someone else I know."

Alicia ignored the subtle dig. "I just hope that he can handle her."

"Oh, Theo's used to it," Oliver said dismissively. "You should have seen this girl that he used to go out with, Louise. Now she was a handful."

Alicia tipped her head back, letting the Scottish sun warm her face. She could hear the water slapping against the stone wall, a frothy, churning whirlpool of charcoal and cobalt blue. Salt air settled on her skin, light and textured as tissue paper.

"Okay," Oliver said. "What about America?"

"For the honeymoon?"

"Yeah."

She considered this. "I like it."

"We can stop in New York," Oliver added. "And see Hattie and Brooks."

Alicia smiled. Hattie was currently in the process of opening her own atelier in Manhattan, a wonderland of organza, silk and velvet ribbon. Her business had taken off after Alicia wore one of her dresses to a Patriots concert in Paris last year, and Hattie had gotten the offer to move to New York about a month later. Fortunately, Brooks had been game.

"Brooks has always wanted to try living in America," Hattie had explained. "He claims that it's because of the food, but I'm convinced that it's because of this cowboy romance novel he read once."

Whatever the reason, Brooks and Hattie were now happily settled across the pond. The girls still spoke on the phone every week, but Alicia would have loved to see her in person — even if it was just for a few days.

"I'd like that," she said. "A lot."

Oliver pulled out his phone, typing notes. "And then we can continue on to Tennessee. And then Louisiana. And we can stop in Texas sometime during our second week, to see Antony and his boyfriend."

"Sure."

"And then we can go to Florida." He paused in his typing. "No, wait. California. I hear the weather is better that time of year, and Disneyworld isn't—"

"Oliver?"

"Yeah?"

She smiled. "Why don't we play it by ear?"

Oliver set his phone down, looking a little sheepish. "Right. Yes. Good call, darling." He squeezed her hand. "It'll be an adventure."

Alicia tipped her head on to his shoulder. Oliver wrapped his arm around her, and she was once again struck by how neatly she fit against his body. As if she had been made expressly for him. The Scottish sun blinked its sleepy orange eye. Seagulls squawked over scraps. And all around them, the sea rolled out in great gusts of water, carrying bits of flotsam and fish, memories and things yet to come.

A/N: Aaaand it's done!

First of all, thank-you so much to everyone that read this whole thing; I'm always so nervous to release a book, and it warms my heart to know that people actually enjoy reading it. You guys are awesome. Seriously.

Now that the story's come to a close, did you have a favourite scene? Or a favourite line? Any feedback is appreciated!

Affectionately,

J.K.