We Had the Right Kind of Love // L.S.

Epilogue

Years later...

Mr. Jacobs leans back into his plush leather chair, my manuscript in hand. I finally finished my second book and was asked to fly out to New York to discuss its future with Mr. Jacobs before it was printed.

"Now Louis," he says, smoothing his tie and popping a mint into his mouth. "I was quite struck by the ending."

"How so, sir?"

Mr. Jacobs runs his hands through his thin greyed hair. "Don't get me wrong, it's a masterpiece. I think I felt every single emotion there is while reading. Not only did you achieve an epic love story, but it hits those points of pure raw emotion that only a writer who's drawing from real experience can hit."

"Thank you." I bow my head in gratitude and wait for the criticism.

"However, the reader got all this build-up, literally years of it, and then it just ends. With a love story like that I would have expected at least a fairytale happily-ever-after ending, not to mention the reader never gets to see the characters ever get together."

I give a respectful nod, displaying my thanks for the feedback. "You said yourself that I draw from real experience."

Mr. Jacob nods in confirmation.

"And real experiences come from real life."

Another confused nod from Mr. Jacobs as he sucks on his mint.

"Real life doesn't have happily-ever-afters, it's just a fact. Real life is full of plot twists so it would be unrealistic to end the story that I've tried so hard to keep accurate with a happily-ever-after. You get what I'm saying?"

"Are you saying this," he motions towards the manuscript, "is based on a real life story? Edward and William are real people?"

My silence is the confirmation Mr. Jacobs needs as the significance of the situation slowly dawns on him. He looks like he's about to say something more when my phone rings.

"Who's that?" he asks instead.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and see Hazza flash on the dark screen. A fond chuckle escapes my lips. My boy couldn't go two hours...

"It's Edward," I reply, getting up from my seat. "Do you mind that I take this?"

Mr. Jacobs' on the edge of his seat and I can practically see the gears turning in his brain as he starts to connect the dots.

"No, of course," he says, eyes wide with realization.

"Thank you, I'll only be a minute." I'm almost out of his office door when I peek back in and give him a reassuring smile, "And don't worry. They get their happily-ever-after." 

The End