Epilogue: A Love Without Conditions
A year later.
Spring had returned to Brooklyn with soft cherry blossoms and the scent of rain-kissed pavement. The bookstore café—"Second Chances"—was quiet in the early morning, save for the soft clink of mugs and the murmur of page-turners nestled in cozy corners.
Elara moved behind the counter, apron tied carelessly, hair in a loose braid. A faint bump beneath her sweater showed the early bloom of pregnancy, but she moved with grace, her eyes bright.
She paused by the window, watching Lucien cross the street—coffee in one hand, a bouquet of white tulips in the other.
Still annoyingly punctual. Still devastatingly handsome.
She smiled as he entered.
"You're early," she teased.
"You're glowing," he replied, brushing a kiss to her temple. "And our child demands caffeine-free attention."
He set the flowers on the counter and drew her close, his hand resting gently over her stomach.
"I still can't believe we're here," she murmured. "That it's real."
Lucien nodded, eyes soft. "No contracts. No shadows. Just us."
He reached into his pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper. She unfolded it slowly—recognizing the original contract they'd once signed. It was burnt around the edges, the ink faded.
Then, in his elegant handwriting beneath the last clause:
"Amended for eternity: I love you."
Elara blinked back tears. "That's the best renegotiation I've ever seen."
They kissed—gently, deeply, as the first customers trickled in and sunlight streamed through the windows.
Outside, the world continued. Fast, chaotic, flawed.
But inside their little café?
Peace. Partnership. And a love no longer bound by paper.
Only by promise.
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