by Arlo Arrow
"We did it." I sighed.
"Yup, and guess who I'm dating now!" Alison exclaimed.
"Oh my God, what happened to the Tash guy?"
"Not my type, but Kim Young looked hella sexy with all that tech stuff. He was a knight in shining armor."
"What about me?" George asked, sneaking up behind us.
"You're my knight in shining armor!" I said, smiling like I’d hit the lottery jackpot.
And to be honest, with George, I pretty much had hit the life jackpot.
"So, are you sure you still want to leave school?" Alison asked. She looked at the withdrawal forms in my hand.
"Yes. That way, no one else has any ammunition over George and me. I decided to major as English, but at another school. Still shopping around."
Alison pouted. "Let me know and I'll transfer there too! I can even drag Kim along! Well, see ya. I have to get to class. Got to transfer with good grades, right?”
Alison skipped off, waving to me and George.
“She’s an excellent friend. But I hope she settles down with someone,” George said, rubbing his head.
“How about Jeff?” I said, walking George to his next class.
George squeezed his eyes closed and held back a deep laugh.
“Jeff? Fall for Alison?” George asked.
We stopped at the door of his classroom.
“Yeah. It’d be perfect.”
“A perfect mess,” he said, smiling. “I’ll see you at my place? With your things?”
“Sure! I love you, George. Thank you for being there for me.”
“I love you too, darling Cecilia. You’ve done more for me than you think.”
No one was in the hall, but it didn’t matter. We shared a quick kiss, and I went down to submit my withdrawal papers.
A new future shone before my eyes, with fun possibilities and lots of love.
Epilogue 1
George
“You got it! You fucking got it!” Jeff bellowed. “Fuck, that’s a damn relief!”
“Why do you always have to be so loud, Jeff?” I scolded, leaning over my kitchen counter. I had two beers opened for us to celebrate. I even had a new job as dean of a new college a few minutes from our new home.
Cecilia was at school and I hadn’t told her yet.
But that was okay. I had a celebration planned for us too.
I was two billion dollars richer, owned a secret company of hitmen, and had kept my younger brother from getting a power that would’ve torn apart society.
The streets were going to be a whole hell of a lot safer.
With me in charge, the company would stay dormant . . . unless someone dared to mess with my Cecilia and our friends.
“Because, two billion dollars and your grandfather’s influence!” he boasted, swinging his bottle of beer around. He hadn’t even taken a swig of it yet.
“Speaking of two billion. Here, this is yours,” I said, pushing him an envelope.
“Nah, I can’t take that. You’re my friend.”
“Then take it. Never deny a friend’s thanks.”
Jeff sighed and dragged the envelope over to his side. “Let’s see what kinda chump change you gave . . . me?”
He paused, his eyes wide.
“Shit. G, this is way too much. Fifty million dollars? Come on, I’m not that broke.”
“And never shall you be.” I took another drink of my beer and smiled.
Two and a half years later . . .
Cecilia and I were as happy as we could be. She was in the middle of graduation with her Bachelor’s.
Her parents were now living a more laid-back life, and Alison had hooked up with Jeff after all.
Those two were an awkward combo. But they made it work.
Cecilia was in her cap and gown, ready for graduation. Alison and Jeff sat in our living room, ready to head off to her school to participate in her graduation. Alison was due to graduate next year with her lengthy degree, but that just meant we could be there for her too.
“Thank you again, honey,” Cecilia said. “You know I love you!” she chimed, twirling in her cap and gown.
“I love you too” —I got down on one knee— “my wife?”
Cecilia gasped and clamped her hands over her mouth. She stuck her hand out, shaking with excitement. For a moment, she forgot how to speak. I didn’t blame her. I was lucky she didn’t mind the love of this old man.
“Yes! Yes, yes, yes!” she yelped.
Alison hugged Cecilia in tears and Jeff rolled his eyes. Like he wasn’t on the verge of doing this himself.
“Oh, my God, you’re a married woman now! Your parents are gonna freak!” Alison cried. Then she turned to Jeff. “Now, where’s my ring?”
“It’s going to be a surprise!” Jeff sighed.
Alison turned back to Cecilia’s ring. “Damn, don’t swim with this. You’ll be dragged to the bottom . . . Mrs. Dent!”
Yes, Mrs. Dent.
She was officially all mine. And the future had yet to begin.
Epilogue-2
Cecilia
I walked across the stage and shook the hands of teachers and administration staff.
I held my Bachelor’s proudly in my hand and remembered all the shit I had gone through. Those days I got caught in the rain to class, those days where George saved me and showed me what a life of love was like. And those days where it seemed like the world would end. Regardless of all that happened, I was still here.
Married. Successful. And hella happy.
My engagement ring glittered brilliantly under the graduation lights as I stepped off stage and waved to George and the group. Alison powered over George and Jeff, waving both of her hands and standing up.
“Ahh! Go, girl!” she hollered over to me.
I followed the line so we could disperse and enjoy the food. George, Alison, and Jeff followed over and all piled in for a hug.
“So, are you going to teach? Or bask in this life of luxury?” Alison asked, picking up a cup of punch.
“Well, I wanted to . . .”
“But?”
I rubbed my stomach and looked down at my feet. I hadn’t even told George yet.
I looked up at George, a heat crawling up my cheeks like the time we’d first met.
“I’m pregnant, George.”
Alison jumped around and kissed Jeff in her excitement. She must’ve wanted a baby too.
“Cecilia! Wh–why didn’t you tell me sooner? You’ve been so busy, I could’ve—”
George held my hands up to his chest and pulled me close.
“I didn’t want to be coddled too much. Plus, I’m a grown-up now!”
I winked.
George devoured me in a kiss. And it was from there that I knew that this was the perfect beginning.
About Arlo Arrow
Arlo Arrow writes contemporary steamy, taboo romances for your pleasure. Some of these include older man, younger woman romances. He recently graduating from Northwestern University with a degree in creative writing and loves hanging out with his dog, Rocket.
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Also by Arlo Arrow
Older Man, Younger Woman:
Sweet Harmony
Boss’s Intern
Office Expectations
The Billionaire’s Fake Fiancee
Legal Pleasures
Seducing Daddy’s Boss
Preview of Sweet Harmony
Chapter 1-Susan
Hushed conversations buzzed around my head as I stood in the foyer of my parents’ house—my house—and greeted family friends that I had not seen in years. I dabbed at my eyes, swollen from sleeples
sness and tears, but I plastered a fake smile across my face.
I shook hands while near-strangers told me the same old funeral clichés. I’m sorry for your loss, they’d say with downturned eyes. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help you during this time, they’d offer, sometimes pressing a check into my hand. Money wasn’t really an issue when you’re the last living family member. Nothing could help me now.
I looked around the room, the smiling faces of my parents and younger brother staring back at me from their frames. I wasn’t sure if they were in a better place like the sentiment people kept repeating to me. But, I knew that I was in a terrible place.
“How are you doing?” my aunt Rachel asked, rubbing my shoulder. “If you want to duck away for a moment, I can take over. I know this is a lot for you to handle right now.”
It was hard to look at my late father’s sister. She looked so much like him with her dark hair and emerald eyes, the same eyes that I had.
“I’m fine,” I said, looking at the floor. People were already starting to leave the luncheon, wandering back into the sunlight once they had their fill of finger foods and small talk. I was counting down the hours until I could be alone again.
“Susan,” Rachel implored. “Don’t try to do too much. You’re not responsible for any of this.”
I knew she meant that I wasn’t responsible for entertaining funeral guests, but I couldn’t help but hear the second meaning in her words. She was wrong on both accounts—people wanted to give their condolences to me, as meaningless as they sounded. Also, I was responsible for what happened to my family, the only people in the world I truly loved.
I tried to avert my eyes from the photographs that I was included in. I couldn’t stand to see my youthful self so happy. Most of the photos were of me at my violin recitals over the years. In fact, there were few pictures of me without my violin. It was my whole identity—I’d been playing since the age of five and had done little else in my free time but practice.
Now, I wanted to smash the delicate wood to tiny pieces. My parents supported me so much throughout the years with my music. They spent thousands of dollars buying violins and paying for my lessons. They even paid for my gown that I wore for my first performance in the orchestra, my first big job. Unfortunately, they never got the chance to see me in it.
Maybe Rachel was right. Maybe it was too much for me to stand at the door and talk to everyone. I turned to retreat to my childhood bedroom when I saw my old violin tutor walk through the door.
I couldn’t remember the last time I spoke to Jeffrey Knight. I saw him in the audience of my senior recital a few years back, but he was gone before we could talk. It must have been at my last lesson with him before my freshman year of college.
He looked the same as ever, with the addition of a few subtle streaks of grey in his brown hair. His square jaw was clenched as if he were uncomfortable in his surroundings. I didn’t blame him—I was uncomfortable too.
Growing up, I had a huge crush on Jeffrey. He was always so well put together and handsome that I couldn’t help but swoon when he flashed me a broad smile after I completed a piece. It was all perfectly harmless, though. He was my dad’s friend, an old colleague from their days in the orchestra. Jeffrey was first chair violin while my dad played the oboe. Jeffrey always teased Dad about me not following in his footsteps with my choice of instrument. There was something so beautiful, so sorrowful about the way the strings produced such powerful sounds with the bow. The moment I started playing, I fell in love.
For a while, I was a part of Jeffrey’s life. I saw him at least once a week for years. I even played at his wedding to his gorgeous wife. I remember how proud he was when she gave birth to their first child, then their second. Grace would even sit in on occasion, just listening to the music while rocking a child to sleep. I felt like part of their family,
Even after I stopped taking lessons with Jeffrey, his family would come over to my parents’ house for dinner on occasion. He was like the cute, young uncle of the family or an older brother’s cool friend. There was something about him that drew me to him. There was something enchanting about him.
But, as I grew up and out of my parents’ house, I saw less and less of him. I once overheard my dad telling my mom that Jeffrey was too busy with his husband and fatherly duties to go out for dinners with them. Suddenly, he cut off contact with the world. If my parents were concerned, they didn’t show it. They had lots of colorful, artistic friends that came and went with the wind.
So, it was a bit of a surprise to spot him in the back of the concert hall on the night of my final performance. I played his favorite Vivaldi piece and could practically hear his excited voice in my head directing me through all the crescendos. I ran through the backstage to find him outside the concert hall, ready for his critique, but he was nowhere to be found. I wanted his feedback; it was always the most truthful.
Seeing him that night, part of me wanted to show him how good I had gotten in his absence. I wasn’t much of a bragger, but I wanted him to notice me, not as a child learning the violin, but as a woman, ready for her first shot at making a real living. I wanted him to be impressed by me, to really notice me.
That’s why seeing him at the funeral made my head spin. I had all but forgotten about his existence until he walked through that door. Perhaps it was because I had hardly eaten since the accident, or because I was under so much stress, but the sight of him nearly made my knees buckle. I caught myself on the stair railing before anyone could notice that I was about to faint.
Well, almost everybody.
“Susan,” Jeffrey said in a concerned voice, rushing to my side. “Are you okay?”
I flashed him a look as he wrapped his arm around my waist to support me.
“Oh,” he said, releasing my side. “I suppose that’s an incredibly stupid question. Of course, you aren’t.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, turning to face him. “I don’t mean to be rude. I’m just really surprised to see you. Really surprised.”
He rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, I’ve been keeping a lower profile these days. But, when I heard about what happened, I knew I had to see you.”
“Me?” I said, feeling my cheeks going red.
“Yes, you,” he answered. “You were my most talented student and your parents were my friends. How could I not pay my respects to your family? I can’t even imagine how you must be feeling.”
“Not great,” I said. “But it really helps to see that so many people cared about my parents and Luke.”
I noticed that he was still hovering close to me as if he were ready to catch me at any moment. It felt nice. For the first time in days, I felt the tiniest amount of relief.
“Do you want to sit down somewhere?” he asked, still looking at me like I could shatter into a thousand pieces.
I nodded. “Get me away from these people,” I said, cracking a tiny smile.
He returned a knowing smile and ushered me to the back patio. Rachel could take over.
“If there’s anything I can do for you during this time, just let me know,” he said, placing a glass of water and a small sandwich in front of me.
“There’s not, but thanks for the offer,” I said. Surprisingly, it didn’t annoy me when he offered to help. It seemed a little more genuine coming from him. “Honestly, I wish I could just make this all go away. I feel terrible for even saying it, but for a few minutes, I want to forget this nightmare even happened.”
“Tell me about your music,” he interrupted.
“What?” I asked, caught off guard by the sudden change of subject.
“Tell me about school and everything you’ve done since then. Tell me about your life. I still think about you and wonder what you’re up to.”
“Well, I had a lot of great opportunities to work with some of the best during school. When I graduated, my professors promised me that I would find great success.”
“And?”
“Le
t’s just say, it’s not easy to make a living as a musician.”
He laughed a deep laugh that shook something inside of me. “You don’t have to tell me that,” he said. “No, of course, it’s not easy. But, that’s what makes it fun.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, it’s real fun to play in the park, practically begging strangers to drop a few dollars into my case. It’s downright humiliating at times.”
“Sure,” he replied, taking a sip of water, “but that’s what makes it so rewarding when you finally make it. You’ll get there someday.”
I looked away sheepishly. “Well, I kind of did make it,” I said. “I had just played my first concert with the orchestra when—”
My voice broke. Jeffrey grabbed my hands in his. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Oh, you poor thing,” he said, raising my hands slightly toward his body.
I blinked back the tears. “I’m okay,” I said.
Suddenly, he released my hands and stood up from his chair as if he suddenly remembered that he needed to be somewhere else.
“Is something wrong?” I asked, but he didn’t have the chance to answer.
“There you two are,” Rachel said. “Jeffrey, it’s so nice to see you again. Would you be willing to say hello to a few people? My brother just adored you.”
“Um, I don’t know,” he stuttered. “I was just about to go.”
“Please, Jeffrey,” she pressed. “It would really mean a lot to the family to know that you were here.”
“Okay,” he said, looking back at me.
“Thanks,” Rachel said, taking him by the arm and leading him back into the house.
My immediate instinct was to follow him, to hang on every word he said. I had a bad habit of doing that, though. Instead, I stayed seated on the patio chair where I used to make wishes on the shooting stars. I would let him leave again, without any explanation. It was easier that way.
