One year later.
The sun poured into the downtown building of Rising Root Consulting. Light spilled over wood floors, vibrant artwork, and shelves filled with books Isabel once hid in her dorm room. Her desk was a mess, but it was a beautiful mess—full of things that mattered.
A knock.
Vanessa popped her head in. "You're gonna be late for your own party."
Isabel looked up from a stack of papers. "It's not my party. It's the foundation's anniversary."
"Uh-huh. And who built the foundation?" Vanessa pointed at her knowingly.
Isabel rolled her eyes but stood, grabbing her blazer. "Let's go celebrate something that didn't exist three years ago."
---
The party was held at the rooftop of the Between Us Foundation headquarters. A crowd gathered—students, donors, survivors, artists. Adrian stood at the bar talking to Zara, both laughing about something Isabel couldn't hear.
As Isabel walked in, applause broke out. She wasn't expecting it.
She hated it.
She loved it.
Adrian walked toward her with two glasses of champagne. "Mrs. Cole," he said, kissing her hand. "You're late."
"I was working."
"Of course you were."
Jude joined them, arm draped casually over Vanessa's shoulder. He wore a blazer but left his sneakers on, just like he did at their wedding.
"I can't believe you pulled this off," he said, raising his glass.
"I can," Vanessa said, eyes soft on Isabel. "She was always going to."
---
Later that night, the music faded into a slow melody. Adrian and Isabel danced on the rooftop, surrounded by laughter, fairy lights, and the city they'd both almost given up on.
"Do you miss teaching?" she asked, resting her head against his chest.
"I miss parts of it," he admitted. "But this... what we're building... it's bigger. It's teaching in a different way."
They danced in silence.
"You know," he whispered, "if someone told me three years ago I'd marry my student, quit academia, and start a foundation with her, I would've laughed."
"Same. Except I didn't think I'd survive my past, let alone rewrite it."
He pulled her in tighter. "You didn't just rewrite it. You lit it on fire and grew something wild and beautiful from the ashes."
---
Later that night, they returned home.
Isabel walked in first, kicked off her heels, and collapsed on the couch.
Adrian followed, pulling off his tie.
"You look exhausted," he said.
"I am. But I'm happy."
He knelt in front of her, pulled her legs into his lap. "Can I help with the exhaustion part?"
She grinned. "Oh, you better."
He leaned in, kissed her knee, then her thigh. The kind of kiss that said, I've learned every part of you and I'm still obsessed.
Clothes disappeared between kisses. Moans replaced words. Their love made the room feel smaller, like only they existed.
She whispered his name again and again.
He worshipped her like a woman, not a fantasy. She held him like a promise she'd never break.
They didn't rush. They didn't have to.
---
Afterward, Isabel lay in Adrian's arms, tracing circles on his chest.
"We did it," she said.
"No," he whispered. "We're still doing it."
And outside, the city kept breathing.
Their story, no longer hidden in shadow, burned softly in the open—tender, whole, and beautifully alive..