By the timeI finish closing up, the streets are mostly empty, the neon signs casting a soft glow on the pavement outside.
And then I see him.
A familiar BMW idling at the curb.
Alfie is leaning against it, still in his lab clothes—wrinkled button-down, ink smudges on his wrist from taking notes. He’s probably coming straight from analyzing data, lost in a world of planetary ice and mineral formations.
But he’s here.
Waiting.
The sight still makes my heart skip, not because he thinks I need protecting, but because he wants to.
“Good night?” he asks as I approach.
“Better now.”
I rise onto my tiptoes to kiss him, slow and sweet. He tastes like coffee and chalk dust, like long hours and quiet devotion.
“Did you solve all of Europa’s mysteries yet?”
“Not quite.” His hands find my waist, pulling me closer. “But I did figure out something interesting today.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Oh?”
He nods, his fingers tracing slow circles on my hip, absentminded like he’s still half in his research.
“There’s evidence that Europa’s ice shell has these microscopic imperfections—defects in the crystal structure that make it more flexible, more likely to shift and crack. And when pressure builds up, instead of just breaking apart, the ice actually melts slightly at those weak points and then refreezes. Over and over. It adapts.”
I blink up at him. “That’s beautiful.”
He huffs a soft laugh. “It’s just a planetary process.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I mean, it’s beautiful that even something as cold and unyielding as ice can learn how to bend instead of shatter.”
Alfie exhales, like maybe that thought has never occurred to him before. His grip on me tightens slightly. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “It is.”
We’ve found our rhythm. Him waiting after my shifts, me bringing him dinner during late lab nights. Supporting each other without trying to control each other’s choices.
“Take me home?” I ask when he finally pauses for breath.
Alfie squeezes my waist, his voice softer now. “Always, Tink.”
As we drive through the quiet streets, his hand finds mine across the center console.
Some things really are worth the wait—like love that doesn’t ask you to be less, like finding someone who holdsall your light, even the parts that burn too bright for others to handle.
Like this.
It’s veryus.
36
EPILOGUE
START OF TERM
Campus buzzes with back-to-school energy, everyone tanned from summer and armed with new notebooks. Alex and I sprawl on our couch watching Troy cook - he’s insisted on making his famous fajitas for everyone’s last first-day dinner.
