A/N: "New Soul" by Yael Naim is the song the title is named after. This is the last chapter. Thank you to all the readers who have stuck by this story and to all those who picked up as it continued. I have appreciated all the input so much. Still thinking about what the sequel will entail, but I'm pretty excited about what I am thinking about for it. I'll let you all know!

NEW SOUL

"Bye, baby," Summer said, smiling brightly but sadly, as she kissed Audrey's forehead for the last time. She had allowed her little daughter to stay up past her bedtime because of the special circumstances, plus she had had to pack both of them up and drive to Kirsten and Sandy's. "Have fun for me, okay?"

Audrey nodded dutifully, taking her assignment seriously. "Okay, mommy. I promise."

"And be good for Sandy and Kirsten."

"Of course I will, Mommy!" Audrey objected. "I love Sandy and Kirsten!"

Summer laughed. Audrey had always been quick to defend the ones she loved, and she had always been quick to start loving them to begin with. For example, in the two hours and seventeen minutes since Summer had explained the plan to Audrey, the little girl had asked Summer where Cohen was and when Cohen would be coming back countless times.

Summer had explained that he would be gone for another week, but so would she—Audrey would be staying with Sandy and Kirsten while she surprised Cohen a whole country and an ocean away. She was afraid Audrey would be upset by the news, but instead, her daughter was genuinely pleased, reporting that her mother was doing the right thing.

This cemented it for Summer. She had never been so sure in her life before.

"Bye Kirsten!" Summer called, as she opened the passenger door of Sandy's car, ready to be on her way. "I love you, Audrey!"

"Love you back, mom!" Audrey hollered, holding hands with Kirsten as the two waved until the car was down the driveway.

There was little traffic as Sandy drove her to LAX, which was both surprising and pleasing. Sandy made sure someone was helping her with her suitcase and hugged her goodbye before he drove back towards Orange County.

She went through security and the second round of security, and even her gate was somewhat nearby. She had time to peruse the newsstand and buy a snack, because airplane food was always disgusting. And then, while she was waiting to board the plane, she figured she might as well call Cohen. It was almost midnight, meaning it was morning in London, and hopefully she could catch him before his first meeting of the day.

Sure enough, he picked up on the second ring. She grinned automatically, unable to help it. "Seth!"

"I was just thinking about you," he replied earnestly, and she knew him well enough to know it wasn't some cutesy lie—he had been thinking about her. "I'm dying here, Sum."

"Me too," she said, pulling her best fake whisper on him. She was lying through her teeth, in fact, but she figured it was for the good of their relationship, or at least, it would be in the end. "I just—"

"I know," he cut in. He wasn't sure if he could handle being so far away if he knew that she was hurting, if she was sad or lonely or upset. "Is Audrey doing okay?"

"Missing you more than you would ever guess," Summer laughed lightly. "She asks about you constantly."

"Good to know I have a fan," Seth joked.

"Two fans, sitting in California, wishing you were with us," Summer promised, and at least she was telling the truth this time. Even if she was sitting in the airport, and in thirty-two minutes, if there was no delay, she'd be up in the skies, flying over America, towards England, closer to him every minute. "Audrey's shrieking upstairs, I have to run, okay?"

"Okay," he sighed, audibly disappointed. She couldn't help but feel a shiver of excitement, anticipating what his reaction would be when she showed up—at his hotel in London. "Love you, Sum."

"Love you too," she said sweetly. Finally the airport speakers blared, alerting her that her flight was boarding, so she got up, grabbed her coat, carry-on, and purse, and prepared to fly to England.

Seth sighed dejectedly as he made his way down the busy streets of London back to his hotel. It was a fairly long walk between the office building where he'd met with a few potential clients and his hotel, but he needed to clear his head before getting dressed and leaving for a business dinner. He traversed the narrow, busy sidewalks, wishing he were back in California, wishing he were with Summer and Audrey, because in all honesty, he was missing them terribly. He cared about the Newport Group, but not nearly enough to vindicate this awful ten-day-long trip.

He finally made it to his hotel, and after entering, his irritated state of mind was further incensed by a crowded lobby, long wait for the elevator, and annoying couple occupying the elevator, who talked loudly and held the door open to finish their conversation. Finally he made it up to his floor and room, sliding the plastic key into the door and opening it, exhaling in relief.

"Hi, Cohen."

Any words he might have had seemed to evaporate from his mouth when he saw her, perched amusedly on his bed, smirking, wearing the most gorgeous, Summer-like, striking red dress he had ever seen, and a pair of utterly sexy black heels. She wore makeup like she used to wear it—not to hide bruises, but to draw attention to her warm eyes; her perfect-shaped lips; her cheekbones.

But then, he thought she was beautiful no matter how she looked. He dropped his well-worn brown leather briefcase to the carpeted floor in utter shock at the sight before him.

She got up, walking slowly towards the entrance of the room, where he stood, frozen, shell-shocked. He could not believe she was in front of him. She loved the shock and confusion that were painted across his perfect face, loved that she could put emotions there, loved that she could ignite all sorts of emotions in the man she loved.

"I got sick of missing you," she offered in explanation, smiling impishly. "So I booked a flight, dropped off Aud with your mom and dad. All three seem thrilled with the arrangements."

Her words seemed slightly fuzzy as he listened to her speak, but he somehow understood everything she was saying. She reached one hand for his tie, loosening it and untying it, sliding it out of his collar and letting it slip from her hands and fall to the floor.

She continued, enjoying the effect she had on him—he, after all, was still silent. "I called your assistant, made sure I knew your schedule, cancelled your business dinner tonight, by the way—"

He grinned in amazement at all of it, everything she had done, and she worked on undoing the tiny top button of his crisp light blue button-down shirt. "But I made us new dinner reservations, just for the two of us, because I haven't been to London since I was like eleven and I wasn't going to fly all the way here to be with you and not see anything."

He grinned even bigger. There she was, the old Summer Roberts, with her attitude and her opinions and everything he had always loved about her, ever since she was eight-years-old and reading a poem about a mermaid and feeding the playground squirrels during recess.

"I planned it pretty well, if I do say so myself, because I was planning to just beg the hotel people to let me into your room, but the maid was here for turn-down service when I got here—and I just slid on in after her, pretending it was my room too. Pretty brilliant, huh?"

Her eyes glittered in his direction, and finally he was able to choke a few words out in response. "So brilliant, Summer." And then he grabbed her and kissed her, like he'd wanted to ever since he closed the taxi door in their driveway in Newport and she had waved goodbye. He put his hands tightly on her waist, accentuated by the perfect detailing of the red dress, and lifted her up and kissed her hard, with intention, with everything he had in him. Suddenly her legs were wrapped firmly around him, heels interlocking behind him. Her left hand was curled around his neck and her right was cradling his cheek; his hands supported her, sliding up her back—over her dress, thank you very much.

She opened her eyes slightly to make sure he could see the smile that was dancing across her face. He could. She wanted to make sure he knew everything she was feeling right now, the happiness and the excitement, and she didn't need to see him to know that he understood what she was feeling, because he felt the exact same way.

She broke away to whisper in his ear, her lips grazing it lightly: "You know, there just might be something else new underneath the dress."

He complied eagerly, leading them towards the bed, gently sitting them down on it. Everything went smoothly, perfectly, as though they were in a movie or some sort of dream sequence. He was still in shock and she was grinning happily and their eyes connected with the kind of love they knew they could never find with another soul. She turned so her back faced him and motioned for him to undo the zipper. Any other day, she would have been frustrated to spend all that time getting ready just to take the damn dress right off in the end, but this was special and perfect and exactly what she had intended when she got on the airplane headed to London. He slid the zipper slowly, more and more square inches of her smooth, silky skin becoming visible, and was inexplicably happy when he noticed her bruises and scars had all but disappeared. They were the last physical reminder of the pain she had suffered through, the long years of distress and loneliness and anguish and strife. The long years they had been apart, the years that he hadn't been by her side, the years they had not been together. He knew just as well as she did that those years and the horrifying memories would live on forever, in her head and in her heart, but he also knew that without seeing the bruises, and through living a happy and hopefully fulfilled life with him away from the pain, maybe those hard years could slowly fade into the past, and become something that didn't taint her every move, her every day. That was all he wished for, for her and for him and for them.

Finally the zipper was all the way down, and Seth realized, suddenly, as her dress slid off of her, that by "something new under the dress", Summer meant exactly what he had been thinking about—the disappearance of the bruises that had tortured her every day and had scarred him as soon as he'd seen them, those marks that had once marred her beautiful skin. She was new. She was whole again, she was fixed, and the days of pain and turbulence were over. He had discovered her secrets in L.A.—a stressed single mother caring for her only child, frustrated in a relationship abusive in too many ways, working through two strenuous jobs to attempt to support she and her daughter's existence. And now, her secrets were exposed, and she had come to peace with those hardships. That was what she meant by new.

When the dress was finally off, abandoned to the floor, he reveled in her beauty—she was Summer, the girl he had loved almost forever, or at least as long as he could remember. She was his first crush, his first kiss, his just about first everything. She was the first girl he had fallen in love with, first woman he had fallen in love with all over again. Her dress was off, her scars were healed, and something new under her dress was just her—her warm face smiling near his, itching to kiss him; her dark brown hair, covering her shoulders but leaving everything else exposed; her breasts and her waist and her stomach and her hips and her legs and everything else he had fallen in love with all those years ago. There she was, in all her glory, with the regained confidence and strength to go commando under her gorgeous new red dress, to let Seth unzip it and let her naked, perfect beauty be exposed to him. She was back, new and yet old, the Summer she had once been mixed with the Summer she had become.

And he loved her, he loved her more than he ever had, he loved her in a way that he didn't understand. He had never felt so strongly or passionately about anyone or anything, ever. It was all the feelings for her that he had accumulated over many, many years coming together into one surge of emotion, and he drew from that emotion as he made love to her all through the night, their dinner reservations forgotten as they sealed their powerful love, bonding them together for the rest of their lives, a silent vow to never be apart, in mind or in body, ever again.