MORE (Completed)

Epilogue

Free speech is so overrated.

"But that's nonsense, Mrs. Cameron! Nina is totally wrong about this. Love is something that empowers people—not something that weakens us, as she suggests."

"Yes, Martha, but it can also be used against us. In the wrong hands, love becomes a tool of manipulation. It can serve as a mechanism of control, and it often acts as a means of—"

"Guys," I interrupt, holding up my hand to restore some order. Heated debates like this are routine in my class.

"I understand what you're both saying, but I think Freud meant something different here. We are never so defenseless against suffering as when we love. Think about that. Aren't we most vulnerable when we love? Whether it's romantic love, familial love, or even friendship—love can be overpowering. And it's only because we love that we experience real loss. You don't mourn something you didn't care for. But losing someone or something you love? That can tear your heart in two."

"But in your second book, Mrs. Cameron... the one about moving on from losses," Martha insists.

"Wanting More," Nina chimes in, and I'm honestly stunned they've read it—it wasn't even on the book list.

"Yeah, that one. I think it's in the second chapter—you wrote that love is an invisible force, almost like a superpower. I don't remember your exact words, but you said it's what keeps us going. That even when you've experienced loss, even when the world feels like it's falling apart, loving someone—or something, or even an idea—can pull you through. That it motivates you to... well, live."

"Time to go!" Leroy shouts, clearly bored and eager to leave.

"Thank you for the reminder, Mr. Arthur," I reply with a smile, not the least bit offended. I'm still too touched by their unexpected references to my work.

"Guys, you've given us plenty to think about. We'll pick this up next time. I have somewhere to be shortly."

"Hot date?" Leroy grins, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

"The hottest," I say with a wink. "Finish the chapter and be ready to discuss it Friday."

I gather the papers from my desk and slide them into my bag as my phone pings with a message.

MOM STAYING AT JAMES'S TONIGHT. OK?

OK SWEETIE. LOVE YOU. BE SAFE.

LOVE YOU 2 MOM. ALWAYS SAFE xx

I smile, shrug on my coat, and head for the exit. As I make my way to the parking lot, I slip into the car, press the screen to turn on the radio, and let the hum of music fill the space. A familiar voice comes through the speakers—soft and smooth. My heart expands just hearing it.

The small, quaint pub across town smells of burnt wood and cider. The crackling fire in the massive hearth casts a warm glow over the room, giving it a lived-in, familiar feeling. I scan the space until my eyes land on him in the back corner, hunched over his phone.

He's wearing a grey checked hat and a thick knit sweater in the same tone. He looks older now—but still good.

I walk toward the table, grinning like a Cheshire cat—a simile I find particularly amusing considering who I'm meeting. He looks up, and his smile mirrors mine: wide, honest, luminous. His dimples pop, his perfect teeth flash, and before I know it, I'm wrapped in his warm embrace.

"Ashley!" he exclaims, his voice thick with affection. I breathe him in, and it's comforting in a way I hadn't realized I missed.

"Harry! How are you?" I ask, still hugging him.