At some point she falls asleep on his chest, and he studies her face. Fifty years this year. It had been so long. But right now, with almost no make up on and her hair long and straight, her lips slightly parted, she looks exactly like she used to look when she'd fall asleep watching him play in their first apartment. For years, she'd come home from work completely exhausted and then listen to whatever he'd been working on all day. Most of the time she would fall asleep on his lap or shoulder or curled up beside him. He brushes her bangs to the side, smiling a little at the memory.
He holds her for a long time, not able to bring himself to wake her up. Would she really keep pushing him away? He refused to believe that she had managed to harden herself that much. She had been through a lot, sure, but she thrived on emotions. On love and fairy tales dreams and art. Could she really be hurt enough to throw away her chance this time?
It didn't really matter. He'd meant what he said to her. Regardless of whether or not he and Stevie could ever figure out what they were, he couldn't be with Kristen anymore. It was too hard. Even kissing her had become almost impossible. Over the past two years, Stevie had reminded him what it felt like to be with someone you are deeply in love with. Every look, every touch, every kiss... it was torture when he couldn't have her, but it was real.
Finally, she stirs, looking around to remember where she is. "I'm sorry, I fell asleep."
"I noticed," he says, smiling at her. "It's okay. You've been out for a while."
"What time is it?"
"After two, I think."
"I should go," she says, not moving.
"Don't be silly. It's a snowy mess out there and we don't have anywhere to be until about five. I'll even sleep on the couch if you want me to."
"I guess I could stay."
"Let me grab some things from the bedroom," he says, standing up.
"Lindsey, don't be stupid. You don't have to sleep on the couch," she says, extending her hand. He helps her off the couch, and they look at each other for a minute. "It's been 17 years since you've been single."
"Yes, I know."
"I don't have to feel guilty about staying with you tonight."
"Did you feel guilty before?"
"Of course I did. I make a lot of bad decisions, but I'm not that heartless. I love your kids, Lindsey. The idea of ripping apart your family kills me."
"You've done nothing of the sort."
"I don't want to talk about this anymore, okay?"
"Well, we're here now. And I'm a free man."
"What are you suggesting?"
"You know very well what I'm suggesting."
"Lindsey..."
"Let me say this, okay? I know that you thrive on dramatic moments and grand gestures and fighting and passionate love, but we're old now. We've done that. It's blown up over and over and over again. Now I'm alone and you're alone, and I am in love with you. I don't know what else you need to hear or what else you want, but this is it Stevie. I love you. I love your hair and your eyes and your lips and your voice and your laugh and every single thing about you. I can make you happy. Let me."
His vulnerability rips her hear open, and for a moment, she can't breathe or speak or come up with any response at all. He's right. All of her negativity and her frustration and disappointment and fear just melt away in the few seconds it takes her to process what he just said. Every single word was poured from his soul, and all of her doubts were suddenly laid to rest. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"You're right. I've been an idiot," she says, laughing through her tears.
"Yes, you have," he says, laughing with her and crushing her body against his.
"The idea of having you again just didn't feel real. I guess I totally freaked out."
"Stop freaking out. We're going to be okay. We've lived the dramatic love affair. Now I just want to get old and boring with you. Is that okay?"
"I am so in love with you."
He responds by kissing her, tangling his fingers in her hair, his arm wrapped so tightly round her waist he's starting to lift her off the floor.
Later, she props herself up on his chest, watching him. His eyes are closed, but she knows he's not asleep yet. "What?" His voice is slow and sleepy, and she smiles a little.
"We're never actually going to be boring, right?"
"I think we'll be interesting until long after we're dead."
"Good. And I changed my mind."
"About what?"
"Happy endings. They do exist."
He opens his eyes and props himself up a little, his eyes sparkling a little. "Took you long enough to figure it out."
