Beyond the Notebook

Epilogue

The day was bright and warm, the sky a perfect shade of blue as the gentle breeze carried the scent of jasmine through the air. I stood at the altar, my heart pounding with happiness as I gazed into Zac's eyes. Dressed in a sleek black tuxedo, he looked at me with the same intensity and love as he had the day we first kissed. Carmen, my ever-loyal best friend, stood beside me as my maid of honor, beaming with pride and tears of joy in her eyes. Zac's brother, Dylan, stood by his side as best man, exchanging a smile with Zac that only brothers share.

The ceremony was everything we had dreamed of—intimate yet grand in its own way. Family and close friends gathered around us, all sharing in the joy of this moment. As the officiant pronounced us husband and wife, Zac gently lifted my veil and kissed me softly, sealing the promise of forever. The cheers and applause from our guests were like music to my ears.

From that moment, life seemed to speed up in the most beautiful way. Zac and I became partners in every sense of the word. He accepted my offer to be an associate in Norac, the film studio I had created, and together we produced several movies that turned out to be major hits. The world came to know that I was the woman Zac had spoken about during his interview on Jimmy Kimmel, the one he wanted to spend his life with. Fame was an unexpected result, but we navigated it together, always prioritizing each other above all else.

Our biggest accomplishment, however, wasn't the movies or the fame—it was our son, Alexander Mohamed Efron. The moment we held him in our arms, we knew our lives had truly changed forever. He had Zac's eyes and my smile, and every time he laughed, it felt like the world lit up just a little bit more.

We agreed to settle down in Dubai, where we built a beautiful home full of love and laughter. It was the perfect balance between my career and Zac's, and we couldn't have chosen a better place to raise our family. My Parisian apartment and Zac's house in Byron Bay became our secondary homes—places of retreat whenever we wanted to escape and unwind.

Our life was filled with happiness. Zac and I found a rhythm, balancing work, love, and family. We took turns traveling for business, sometimes together, sometimes solo, but always coming back to the sanctuary we built in Dubai. The world saw us as a power couple, but to us, it was always about the little moments—the shared glances, the midnight talks, the mornings spent playing with Alexander.

One quiet afternoon, I found myself in our bedroom, sorting through old boxes we had moved with us. As I shifted through the contents, my fingers brushed against something familiar—my dream book. I hadn't looked at it in years, and as I opened it, memories of all the dreams I once scribbled down flooded my mind. Page after page was filled with hopes and wishes that, once upon a time, felt distant and out of reach.

Smiling to myself, I closed the notebook and carried it with me as I stepped out onto the balcony. Below, I saw Zac and Alexander playing in the garden. Zac was chasing after our giggling son, his laughter echoing across the yard. It was a sight that made my heart swell with gratitude.

I looked down at the notebook again, realizing that every dream I had written in there had come true—some even better than I could have imagined. My life wasn't just what I had hoped for; it was everything and more.

Holding the notebook close to my chest, I whispered, "Thank you." It wasn't just a thank you to the notebook—it was a thank you to life, to fate, to every twist and turn that led me here. Every step, every choice, every risk had brought me to this moment.

And as I watched my husband and son play together, I knew that this was just the beginning. We had a lifetime of love and happiness ahead of us, and I couldn't wait to see what the future held.

Because this was what dreams were made of—a happily ever after that was only just beginning.