Boundaries

Epilogue: Picturesque

Three Years Later

"Ah, you're beautiful!" Your mother tears up in the mirror behind you.

"Mom, you're going to smudge your makeup, and Autumn's not going to do it again." The three of you laugh. Your mom carefully runs her thumbs under her eyes.

"You're right, you're right," she says, fanning herself.

Autumn stops perfecting the wings of your eyeliner and turns to your mother. "Don't worry. There's time for me to do it again if you need it. Kalani, how dare you tease your mom like that!" She smiles, and her eyes crinkle in a sea of laugh lines. Her expert fingers go back to gripping her black pencil as she returns to you and trails the color across the canvas of your eyelid. You close your eyes, a willing subject to her capabilities.

She blends a rosy blush onto your cheeks with a final flourish, exclaiming as she admires her work, "Aha! There's the gorgeous bride." Autumn and your mother clap as you stand and they take in the full image of you.

After a moment, your mother excuses herself, afraid she'll cry more and completely decimate her incredible make-up. With a quick kiss on your cheek, she hurries from the room, waving her hands frantically beside her eyes.

"I'm going to go check on your groom," Autumn declares. "Do you need anything else?"

"The bridesmaids are down the hall?"

"I'll make sure they get there if they're not already," she asserts, throwing a playful wink your way. "See you out there, lovely." She floats out the door, shutting it softly behind her.

Alone for the first time in what seems like days, you tiptoe to the standing mirror, still half-terrified to trip in your ivory heels.

And you can see now that you are indeed beautiful.

Your face glows. Autumn has perfectly complimented your skin tone with the bronze foundation lightly brushed over your cheeks and forehead. Her steady hand has drawn a smooth line against your lashes, accenting your eyes in a sweeping butterfly curve. Your cheeks are full, rounded out nicely by the rubescent blush you picked out weeks ago. Your dark hair is neatly tucked into a bun, and for once, there is not a single strand rebelling against its place.

The dress hugs your torso in an embrace of champagne lace and flows into an hourglass of fabric. Barely noticeable designs swirl among the loose pleats, the skirt's plain identity interrupted by the subtle pattern. The hem swoops up gracefully at your shin to reveal the intricate strap work of your high-heeled shoes.

Seeing yourself is overwhelming. You suddenly feel lightheaded and sink back into the chair at the vanity mirror, putting your head in your hands.

You don't hear the door or the footsteps that signal someone's entry, but the voice that startles you is unmistakable.

"You look like the most elegant mess that ever existed."

Your head snaps up in surprise to take in a handsome black suit and its wearer, beautiful in an unconventional way. "Jongdae, what are you doing here?"

"I got lost on my way to the ceremony," he jokes, taking a seat on the floor in front of you.

"Seriously? You've never heard that it's bad luck to see your bride on the day of your wedding?" You are surprised to find that your voice is shaky.

"Um, in case you hadn't noticed, I'm not really one for tradition. Plus," he starts, scooting closer to you until the tips of his leather shoes touch yours. "If we're getting married after more than two decades of life throwing us together and cleaving us apart, I feel like it's going to take more than a little superstition to separate us this late in the game." His eyes twinkle merrily. But despite his reassuring words—and despite your wholehearted belief in them—you can't shake the nervousness roiling in the pit of your stomach.

"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?" Jongdae prods.

"So much," you sigh. "Jongdae...what if those hounds show up? Of course I wouldn't ask you not to invite your closest friends, but you don't think the media's going to get suspicious and send someone to check out why Chen, Baekhyun, and Luhan are all in the same place at the same time? And if they show up, they're going to see..." You lower your voice conspiratorially and cross your arms over your stomach. "Everyone else has dismissed the nausea as jitters and the bump as water retention from stress, but you know the paparazzi won't be so naïve." Your eyes sting with tears and you look at the ground, blinking away the sudden cloudiness.

Jongdae takes two of your hands in one of his and gently runs his fingertips under your chin with the other, lifting your face to make your eyes meet his.

"Kalani. I know that we have a lot of challenges that we're going to have to face because of our line of work, especially from my end. And I can understand why you're nervous about the media." His hand leaves your chin and he sets his palm lightly against your stomach, an innocent smile playing on his lips. Your hands join his against the just perceptible bulge. "Especially with this little one on the way. But I need you to trust me on this." His expression turns serious.

"Listen, my love. You and I did not tell anyone outside of our little company that we were getting married. We know the name of every one of our employees, right? Do you trust the people we hired?" You nod. "Do you trust me?" You nod again. "Our boy Yixing is all over security, and you know how loyal that kid is. Do you trust Yixing?"

"Yes."

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"Once I left that big corporation, all the people that would've given a shit whether or not I was single stopped following my career. There's just no one to cater to anymore with that kind of gossip."

"They'd find an audience," you scoff.

"Ah, but whether they'd find an audience or not doesn't really matter, does it? Because they're not going to be here. Do you trust Yixing?"

"Yes."

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"Do you trust me to take care of this family?"

"I do."

Jongdae's smile returns, an ear-to-ear grin this time that is reflected on your own face. Unease finally set to rest by your fiancé's vehement assurance, you feel the last of your stubborn tension draining from your limbs. Jongdae leans forward to tenderly kiss your stomach.

"And for the record," you add, fingers twining in the rust of his expertly tousled hair, "no more cursing in front of the baby."

Jongdae stands and pulls you to your feet. "Yes, ma'am." He leans down and your lips meet softly in a comfortable heat.

"Just think," he whispers. "That's the last time we'll ever do that without knowing that we're bonded together forever."

You whisper back against his skin, "I think I knew that a long time ago."

He holds you by your waist for another few seconds, beaming as the two of you sway with your eyes, hearts, and minds locked only on each other.

"I'd better go," he finally says, releasing you from his gentle iron grip. "They're going to get suspicious. Will I be seeing you at the end of the aisle, then?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world."

He backs toward the door, an uncontrollable happiness radiating from every feature. You take him in—the chestnut eyes rimmed by dark, lengthy lashes; the deviously curled mouth, long and cat-like—and your chest is tight with a joy threatening to shatter you into a million pieces.

"I love you, Kalani."

"I love you, Jongdae." And as you watch his confident figure stride from the room, every part of you knows that you are watching him tread irrevocably deeper into your life.

And you wouldn't have it any other way.