Mort found no sense in trying to pretend he enjoyed events that required him to dress up, but here he was. Wearing a dark blue suit that fit a little snug for his taste – because anything that didn't feel like sweatpants or a bathrobe quite frankly felt a little snug for his taste – he was only at this dinner because he was the guest of honor. It was a fairly elaborate shindig at the Bowery Hotel in the Lower East Side, not far from his place. He had to admit, however, that he was rather proud of the job he'd done cleaning up. He wasn't an absolute mess anymore - and to be frank, he had expected to be after his run-in with Carmen the previous day.

He had to admit, the recognition was nice in a strange way. It was a celebratory dinner for his recent success – the announcement that Mourning the Muse had topped the New York Times bestseller list for five weeks in a row at this point – and it was only after he had awkwardly garbled his way through a thank you speech that he realized that this banquet, like the book signing, had been sponsored by A-List Magazine.

While everyone was enjoying cocktails, Mort felt someone clap him on the shoulder from behind, and once he turned around he found himself face to face with Robert Wallace, beaming jovially. Boy, Mort thought, putting on an unsure smile that he was sure let on that he wasn't expecting to be speaking with this guy anytime soon. Rob, however, seemed unfazed.

"Congratulations, man," he said, reaching out and giving Mort a hearty handshake. "And hey, I heard you and Carmen talked yesterday after the signing –"

"Yeah, it was… nice," Mort replied with an awkward grin, unable to scrounge up a better description. From the smile on Rob's face, he obviously had a very different idea of what the conversation consisted of.

"I'm glad to hear that, Mort – you know, Mel and I have been telling her, she wouldn't have put that much effort into planning all of this for you if there was nothing left –"

"Wait, Carmen put all of this together?"

"Yeah, she didn't tell you?" Rob continued casually. "She spent hours making sure the details were all put together – the security, the guest list, all that jazz. I'm surprised she had time to sleep. But you know, she didn't have much else going on – it's not like she's dated anyone since you guys –"

But Rob froze when he realized that Mort looked completely out of the loop, blinking in disbelief. Rob, as it turned out, genuinely thought that Carmen would have mentioned all of this to Mort – that the two of them talking the previous afternoon meant they had gotten back together. When he realized that he was wrong, he clapped a hand over his mouth and cleared his throat.

"Wow," Rob said, scratching his neck in embarrassment. "Well, she is going to kill me now," he chuckled nervously. If Mort knew Carmen at all, Rob was probably right. "But – I mean, I'm sure she had a reason for not telling you. She's around here somewhere –"

Carmen was here too? Mort immediately began looking around and stepped away from Rob without even excusing himself – and Rob understood. When you were in love with Carmen, she tended to do that to you. When you were in love with Carmen, other people sort of stopped existing to you at times, and Robert Wallace knew that better than most.

Mort made his way around the room, shaking hands and thanking people for coming as they approached him but making no move to engage any of them for a prolonged amount of time. He felt a little dismayed that he couldn't pick her out of the crowd right away in the romanticized fashion one always assumed they'd be able to pick out the One, but eventually, his eyes locked onto the figure of a woman in long black dress, delicate lace draping over her shoulders but leaving the pale skin of her back exposed. She was talking to one of the catering attendants walking around with a platter of champagne flutes, and there was no mistaking her for anyone else once he heard her voice.

"No – I spoke with your manager and there is not a per head charge for the champagne, it's per bottle, I have it in writing," she said with her firm yet somehow charming, melodic tone. Mort started practically wading across the room to her – he was going to try and make this into something. He was going to ask her to dance, try to catch her in a photograph, something. However, when she saw him walking closer, she froze like a deer in the headlights, excused herself from the company of the waiter, and immediately started walking briskly towards the door.

She was walking away again – she was walking away with no explanation. Everything they had been through entitled her to do that once, Mort surmised, but not twice. Without even pausing to consider the consequences, he began walking faster, following her out of the banquet hall, through the hotel lobby, and out the front door until – because his legs were longer and she was no doubt wearing an impractically tall pair of high heels – he caught up with her, catching her by the arm and gently pulling her close to him.

"Mort, no," she protested weakly. "I need to leave, I really need to-"

"You can't do that, you can't keep doing that!" he said suddenly, causing her to flinch in surprise. "Ever since yesterday. You can't reappear in my life for a few minutes, then disappear again without a word at all. You can't do that!" he insisted. "Why didn't you tell me you put all of this together?"

"Because it shouldn't matter," Carmen said, shaking her head. Despite the high emotion of the moment, Mort couldn't help but think that she was still gorgeous. Her hair was twisted simply at the nape of her neck, and because she had been walking so quickly, a few loose wisps had fallen around her face. When she was a little less perfect-looking, she looked more like his Carmen, and not this new Carmen who wanted nothing more than to run away from him. "Mort, I need to go –"

"You can't keep doing this, okay?" Mort repeated urgently. "Because you know what? I didn't get a say in anything you did – I didn't want us to be over, and if you're not going to be in my life again, you can't just keep appearing in it."

Carmen immediately felt her heart shatter at Mort's ultimatum. She clenched her teeth as she realized she was about to cry – even after two years, Mort was the only one who had been able to turn her into an emotional, blubbering mess like this, and she hated it. She shook her head, pulling her arm out of his reach and looking at him with an expression of intense, desperate sadness.

"I tried to stay away, okay?" she said, suddenly feeling angry at herself for not being able to walk away, to keep her distance as she had promised herself she would. "Because it's better for you –"

"Stop trying to decide what's better for me and just be honest with me for one second – just one second," Mort said, throwing his arms out wide. "I don't care if I'm making a scene in front of all New York, because I'm going to keep doing it until you tell me –"

"Tell you what?" Carmen snapped, shaking her head so that more wisps of her hair fell out of place and framed her face. Mort felt a strange sense of fondness for seeing her like this – he didn't remember her as the poised, perfectly coiffed professional she had been a few minutes ago. He remembered her as lively, unkempt – not always put together, but somehow still perfect. "You want to hear how seeing you again and trying to act normal is tearing me to pieces? That I still regret leaving, no matter how amazing your life turned out to be, and that I feel like the worst person for thinking maybe I should have let you put me before all of it?"

And Mort couldn't help himself – because while she had been incredibly obtuse about it, he had never expected anything else from her, and in her own way, she had just admitted what Mort had not so secretly hoped for since the day he arrived at her cabin and found it empty. He pulled her closer again and kissed her – if he did one brave thing in his life, it was going to be this. He could have sworn he heard fireworks in his head when for a few moments, she kissed him back. She kissed him back with a fervor and vitality that confirmed everything Mort was hoping to find out from seeing her again. However, she pulled back and looked away, shaking her head.

"What do I have to do to convince you that this is okay now?"

"It's isn't!"

"Why isn't it?" Mort said in exasperation. "Give me one reason why it isn't. Shooter's gone. My life's together, your life's together – we miss each other, we love each other. It doesn't need to be this hard, Carmen!"

"We've been apart for longer than we were even together!" Carmen argued feebly. "Mort, what if –"

"No what if's – those are what always makes things worse for us both," he interrupted, and after he had asserted that he wasn't going to let her negotiate her way out of this the way she usually managed to do with everything else, they fell quiet. She sighed, shaking her head. Maybe, Mort thought, if he could just get through to her tonight, something could happen. Something amazing could happen. That was the way their relationship had always worked – if one of them could just pluck up the courage to do something a little rash, a little crazy, amazing things happened. And if there was one thing he wanted to believe in right now after two years of being okay but being alone, it was that amazing things still happened.

"Can I show you where I've been staying?" Mort asked, catching Carmen by surprise again. "I'm not trying anything. I just – it's about five blocks from here. Do you wanna walk with me?"

Carmen's gaze briefly glinted with suspicion, but it quickly faded into resignation as she nodded. They started walking down Bowery and strangely began talking. Just talking. Not forcing smalltalk, or trying to pretend they were in a place that they weren't.

"Wallace says you've been a little bit of a hermit since you've been back in the big city," Mort mentioned – he noticed Carmen rubbing her arms and removed the jacket to his suit, placing it around her shoulders. She gave a small surprised smile, both at receiving the jacket and the fact that Rob had been gossiping about her. "He says that you're back to being all work and no play. I can't really say I'm surprised."

"You know, I always say that Mel has been good for him – and I usually mean it," Carmen laughed – Mort felt like his ears needed to drink in every note of her laughter after not hearing it for years. "But then there are times where he's just such a gossip, and I wonder if it's such a good thing after all."

"He says you haven't even dated anyone –"

"I am going to kill him."

"He said that too!"

The two of them laughed together – openly and unrestrained – and without thinking, Mort reached out to hold her hand. Carmen, to his surprise, didn't pull away, but didn't lean in closer the way she always used to. He cleared his throat and nodded towards one of the buildings as they passed. "This is me – seventh floor," he said. Their hands still entwined, they walked inside and entered the elevator. It just didn't seem right to let go of one another's hands, if both were being honest. Even if it was just a moment of weakness or a fluke, even if right now, they got into the biggest argument of their lives and decided not to speak again, if they could just hold onto one another for a few more minutes, it was something.

Mort unlocked and opened the door to his flat – a surprisingly plush one-bedroom living space that Carmen was almost flabbergasted to see him in. She looked around at the décor – it was a little bland, but he'd managed to put up framed posters of some of his book covers, an Escher painting that was probably an imitation because he never saw the point of shelling out the cash for the real thing, and a photo of his cabin in Tashmore Lake.

"I wanted you to see something. Just… for… I don't know, closure," Mort said, finally letting go of Carmen's hand and walking over to his bookcase, pulling out a copy of Mourning the Muse and opening it to the inside cover, holding it out to her. "I know you read it, but this one's a little different."

Carmen hesitantly took the book from his hands and looked down at the photo on the inside of the sleeve – instead of his usual headshot, this one had a different photo: the photo that had been taken of them in the book shop in Cape Cod. Carmen looked up questioningly.

"I had one printed up just… for my own sake. To keep for the memories. No one else has seen it," he shrugged as though it was no big deal. Carmen nodded in understanding, unable to speak, before she looked down and read the 'about the author' section, which was also different.

"Morton Rainey lives in Massachusetts with his wife, Carmen…" she read aloud, her voice confused and distant. "Cape Cod," she finally muttered to herself, unsure if the realization warranted a frown or a smile – it was such a good memory, but then again, it was just a memory.

"We were gonna pack up and leave New York, remember?" Mort said with a sad laugh, looking down at his feet. "And now here we are, two years later, still here."

Carmen, on the other hand, couldn't speak. She was still looking down at the book jacket, and inexplicably, she was crying again. She sniffed back tears and shook her head fervently. To hear Mort say that they were in the same place when she'd only put herself through the past two years because she'd hoped it would bring them both somewhere better was more than she was able to take. She had to sit on the sofa, and Mort silently joined her, letting her cry as much as she needed to.

Eventually, after she was all cried out, she took a few breaths and flipped the book to the last pages. "I told you that I read this one, right?" she said quietly.

"Yeah – I'm flattered," Mort chuckled nervously. Carmen crying made him nervous because it made things very unpredictable. "First time, right?"

"Long overdue, I know," she said with a weak laugh. "You wanna know what I really thought?" she asked suddenly. "You know, the ending –"

"I know. I've written better ones," Mort said in a slightly defensive tone. "I rushed through writing that one a little. I sort of just wanted to get it done. That was probably my biggest mistake. The ending's the… most important part…"

"No, no – I don't think there's anything wrong with it," Carmen said, shaking her head. "But maybe…"

She finally looked up, and when she met Mort's gaze, he saw an emotion in her eyes that he didn't think he would ever see again. It was a look of fearlessness, of determination – the only time he had ever seen anything like it was a time he wasn't even sure was real. He had only seen this particular expression in that moment where he'd thought he'd lost consciousness, where she'd tried to convince him to kill her to get rid of Shooter. He tensed, waiting for her to finish her statement.

"…maybe it just wasn't the ending yet."

Mort slowly got to his feet, folding his hands in front of his mouth and exhaling – he held up the index finger of one hand and muttered, 'wait there' almost unintelligibly before he walked over to his work desk across the room, pulling open the drawer and picking something up before walking back over to Carmen, who was now staring at him with confusion and apprehension in her eyes, replacing the furious determination that had been there moments earlier.

He cleared his throat and held out his hand with the palm facing up, revealing the engagement ring. "Before you say anything else," he said hesitantly. "I think you forgot something."

Carmen stared down at Mort's hand in disbelief – this was not the way she had planned on this night going, and a small part of her still insisted that she shouldn't be doing this, that she had made her decision a long time ago and it was wrong to go back on it.

Another louder, more adamant part of her, however, insisted that if her seven months with Morton Rainey had taught her anything, it was that if you accepted another chance when it was given, sometimes amazing things happened – and if there was one thing she wanted to believe in right now after two years of being okay but being alone, it was that amazing things still happened.

"It's yours," Mort added, more to fill the silence than anything else. "And I think I've learned my lesson – it's best to give people back what's theirs."

With a shaking hand, she reached out and took the ring from Mort's hand, slipping it back onto her own finger – where it belonged. Mort immediately pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her, holding her so tight that if she hadn't already felt out of breath, she might have hardly been able to breathe. And for the second time that night, he kissed her – this time, he picked her up off of the ground for a brief moment, but lost his footing so both of them fell onto the sofa, laughing.

"So what do you think, Mister Rainey?" Carmen asked as Mort rested her forehead gently against his, relishing the closeness between them for the first time in a long time. "Perfect ending?"

"No," Mort said. "This is the perfect beginning."

~*~ FIN ~*~

And there we have it! After ten years, this story is done. To be honest, I have a sequel planned (which, if published, will not take ten years to finish) - it deals with Mort and Carmen's future, and an encounter with Amy's family that forces them to answer some very difficult questions about their life together. Whether or not this gets published depends on me finishing a lot of my other WIP stories, particularly "Grim Becomings" (Harry Potter), "If Sweet Things Spoil" (Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory), and "Pawns and Princes" (Once Upon a Time in Mexico), as well as a new project I've started, "The Second Synthesis" (Transcendence). The working title of the sequel is "The Prices We Pay".

In the meantime, I've been inspired by one of my recent favorite authors (The Pirate Gypsy) to start a separate Tumblr account to store manips, fanmixes, and other media for my stories, under the Tumblr username la-vik-ffn. So, if you want to keep up with some of the updates on what comes next, follow me there!

This story has been one that I have grown and changed with, and is the first of my stories that I have actually seen through to the end. So, I thank all of you for following along with me, and I hope to see some of you grace my other stories with your presence as well. Until then, cheers and goodbye!