EPILOGUE

Until my honeymoon, I'd never stepped foot on an airplane, and I haven't flown again since that life-changing trip to Italy. Piper and I go on a week-long trip for our anniversary every year, but the furthest we've journeyed was a six-hour drive to Bar Harbor, Maine. To celebrate our tenth wedding anniversary, we decided to book a trip to Ireland, a place we've both talked about visiting for years.

Our fascination with Ireland began when one of our repeat guests at The Inn at Oyster Island told us about the bed and breakfast she and her husband own in Kinsale. They've invited us to stay with them for years, but we couldn't find (or make) time to go overseas. As our tenth anniversary approached, Piper and I agreed that Ireland was the perfect destination to celebrate such a milestone.

"I knew the A380 had pods in first class," she comments as she scoots over to the window seat. "But this is even better than the plane we flew to Rome."

Although this is only my second time in the air, I insisted that we travel first class despite the price of the ticket. I've never been bougie about anything in my life until given the option of flying in luxury or flying coach. Well, my inn certainly fits into the bougie category, but still.

I press a few buttons on the armrest. "How do you even work this thing?"

"Like this." Piper reaches over and hits the bottom button, which makes the footrest come out. She presses the top button and my seat reclines. "It goes all the way down until it becomes a bed."

"Wow." I take over the control panel, moving back to a seated position. "Maybe I'll be able to sleep this time."

A flight attendant approaches us. "Welcome, Ms. Vause and Ms. Chapman. May I offer you a warm towel?"

I nod. "Thanks."

For 21 years of my life, I'd never been pampered. I didn't so much as have a manicure and pedicure until the day before the grand opening of The Inn at Oyster Island. All that changed when I started getting invitations to inns across New England in exchange for the innkeeper staying at my property. Many of them have spas or massage services, something I still intend to add to the inn.

"Here's our menu for dinner service this evening." He hands each of us a paper menu. "Let me know if you have any questions. Welcome aboard."

Piper turns to me. "Can I have your bread pudding?"

"No," I complain with a light laugh. "I'm getting the Irish spice cake."

She makes a little disappointed sound. I won't tell her now, but of course I'm going to order the bread pudding and let her eat it.

The thing that has surprised me throughout my 15 years as Piper's partner is that we don't argue. Ever. We disagree about a few things here and there but nothing that would make us raise our voice or hold a grudge. Our values have lined up from the beginning, plus we've had the benefit of growing into full-fledged, responsible adults together.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. "It's the inn," I mention before answering. "Hello?"

"Hi, Alex. Sorry to bother you," our front desk manager replies.

"No problem, Ariana." I glance at Piper so she knows who I'm talking to. "What's up?"

"We didn't get to review the guest list before you left, and I didn't see any notes."

Every week, she and I review the list of who's staying to see if we have any returning patrons or if any of them require special assistance.

"I thought I e-mailed you?" I ask.

"I just checked—I didn't see anything."

"We're on the plane." I can either call her back while I search for the e-mail or review the list with her now. "But let's go over it quickly."

Throughout high school, Ariana Baker worked at the inn and moved from washing dishes to cooking on the line to being a server in the restaurant. Throughout her senior year, she worked the front desk every Sunday, giving me some much needed time off. Ariana is one of the few islanders who went to college with the intent of returning to the hotel in a much bigger role. She graduated at the top of her class from Cornell's School of Hotel Administration three years ago.

"So, only two returning guests?" I ask as I watch Piper pull five random things from her bag and shove them into the seat back pocket.

"That's right. This will be the Sutton's third time at the inn," she says.

"Let's upgrade them to the Captain's Suite," I begin. "And work with Cece to make them a welcome package."

"Bread, jam, muffins—the usual?"

I nod. "Throw in a bottle of wine, too."

"Ladies and gentlemen, the main door is now closed. It's time to turn off all mobile phones and devices," a voice comes over the speaker.

"I'm going to do a quick search for that e-mail and send it your way if I find it." I fasten my seatbelt. "I wrote a few more details that should help while I'm away."

"Perfect. Sorry again to bother you."

"No problem." I lift my tray table, locking it in place. "I'll call tomorrow to make sure everything is running smoothly."

"I'm sure it will be," Ariana replies. "Have a wonderful trip."

As soon as I hang up, I do a quick search for that e-mail.

"Everything ok?" Piper asks, finally seeming settled.

"Yeah…I could swear I sent this." I find it in my outbox, waiting to be delivered. "Guess not."

"Ariana has gotten really good at her job," she comments around a sip of bottled water.

"Who would've thought that little girl who sold lemonade at the farmer's market would end up being one of the most valuable employees at the inn?"

Piper smiles. "She was so cute with the little red, pigtails."

"Her younger sister should graduate from U Conn next year." I ensure my chair is fully upright. "Hopefully she'll work for us, too."

"I love that the inn is still such a family-run business," she sighs nostalgically.

It's true—Trina, Tim, Wyatt, Cece and Neemah have all been at the inn since the start (though Tim came on board in our second year after quitting his job on the ferry.) My mom still helps out a few days a week, too. One of the things that make us so successful is that we operate like a family who cares about each other and our overall success.

"That'll never change." I smile.

She shoves her water bottle into the overflowing seat back pocket. "I have a surprise for you."

"Already?" I smile. "We aren't even in the air yet."

"I can't keep it a secret any longer." Piper digs in her bag and pulls out a magazine but quickly turns it over in her lap.

"Well?"

We're interrupted by the flight attendant's speech about buckling our seatbelts, and I feel the plane moving backwards.

"It'll have to wait," I sigh.

She gives me a funny look. "For the safety announcement to wrap up?"

"Yeah."

"No one listens to this stuff," she chuckles.

"I've only flown one other time, babe, so I'm going to pay attention to what happens if we have to make a water landing."

That earns me a snort. I love her snorts even if it's at my expense.

The flight attendant wraps up, and I turn to her. "Ok, I'm ready."

She takes a deep breath, then turns the magazine over.

"Is that…?" I pick it up and stare at my hotel on the cover of Condé Nast. "Is that the inn?"

Piper nods vigorously. "I talked to the Condé Nast managing editor a week ago, and he told me we might make the cover, but I didn't want to get your hopes up."

"This is…" I shake my head. "How did you do it?"

"I didn't do anything," she responds.

That cannot possibly be true—Piper has commandeered my marketing and public relations efforts since she was a sophomore in college. I didn't even add her to the payroll until two years after opening, but she's made it her mission to put The Inn at Oyster Island on the map. I wasn't surprised at her business acumen, but in my wildest dreams, I never thought we'd reach international recognition.

"You're the one who deals with the media," I reply with a quick kiss. "This is all you."

"You're the one who runs everything else," she counters. "You and the staff are responsible for the success of the inn."

I'll admit that I was concerned when we first opened about having Trina and Wyatt on the restaurant staff in public-facing roles, but they've proven to be two of our greatest assets. Wyatt was even recognized for his bartending skills a few years ago by Imbibe magazine. (He also made the cut for USA Today's hottest bartenders across America, which he's still reeling about five years later.) I swear, he's going to save that article and show it to his two sons one day.

I smile at my wife. "We make a good team."

"Now we just need a glass of bubbly to celebrate."

I open the magazine and glance at the three pictures inside—the first is of the exterior of the inn with our signature Navy blue Adirondack chairs out front. The second is of the Captain's Suite, and the third is a candid shot of me standing with Cece and Neemah in the restaurant and Wyatt is in the background behind the bar.

"I'm glad you got pictures with the updated interior." Last year, we remodeled the hotel rooms with a more modern flair, but it still has the same nautical feel I've always aimed for.

"That's why I was late for dinner two Friday nights ago," she replies. "The photographer wanted to get shots of a few of the rooms that hadn't been updated. I insisted that he stay away from them and focus on the Captain's Suite. He was on a ladder looking through the turret."

"I was wondering how he got that angle." I crease the magazine and dive into the two-page spread. "Wow, this is even better than the article in Afar from last summer."

Within a year of opening, we became among the top ten boutique hotels in Connecticut on Trip Advisor, and a year after that we moved into the top five. During that second year, we earned a spot in Wanderlust magazine's best island inns. Food & Wine as well as Saveur magazines gave a shout out to our restaurant that same year. I always knew Cece and Neemah were good cooks, but they've outdone themselves over the years, learning new recipes and even taking a few modern cuisine cooking classes in Hartford during the off season.

As the positive reviews poured in on the top travel sites, we gained momentum and became among the top 25 small hotels in all of New England. Two years ago, we were featured in Coastal Living's May issue with a one-page spread. Last year we received the biggest accolade before this one—Travel & Leisure's Coziest Places to Stay in America, but the recognition came only with a small picture and a five sentence description of the inn.

"This is amazing," I say, dropping the magazine to my lap.

"The only problem is instead of guests having to book eight months out to get a room, it'll probably be closer to nine or ten."

"I'm still not expanding."

Piper and I have tossed around the idea of adding on to the hotel, but I've resisted, stating that part of the charm is that it's so small. We're able to give every room and every guest the utmost attention, and if we added even another three rooms, it would take away from the whole boutique experience.

"Not even the restaurant?" she asks.

Five years ago, the same year we tied the knot, I closed in half of the deck for more restaurant seating. That left only four tables for outdoor dining, which proved to be a mistake. In the summer months, there's a lovely breeze coming off the water in the evenings and everyone seems to want a seat outside. The following winter, Ben and I extended the deck to allow for another six tables.

"No," I reply. "We're the perfect size, babe."

"If you say so."

I hold her hand as we takeoff, closing my eyes at the weird sensation of being lifted off the ground. Once we reach 10,000 feet, I let go.

I pull out my iPad.

"Are you going to work?" she asks in a disappointed voice.

I power it on. "Yeah—just until the food comes."

Piper wraps her hand around my forearm. "You promised it wouldn't be all business on our trip."

"I stand by that promise," I reply. "But I'm going to need to work an hour or two each day, babe. You knew that before we left."

She sighs. "I just want this trip to be all about us."

"It will." I lean over, kissing her cheek. "Promise."

Although we've been married for 10 years, we've been together for a total of 15. Our first four years were rocky not because we didn't love each other, but because Piper was in college and I was spending 80 hours a week, learning how to run an inn. Most summers were awesome, because we got to see each other daily, but during the school year, it was tough for either of us to get away. We went from seeing each other once a month her freshman year to seeing each other once every two months by her senior year.

One summer, Piper did an internship at a boutique hotel in Vermont, and we only got to see each other once. If ever there was a time when we would've broken up, it would've been then. The thing is, there was no way we'd break up on account of missing each other too much; after all, the whole reason she took the unpaid internship was so she could increase her knowledge about publicity for an inn. By that time, Piper knew she wanted to help with the marketing of my property, and everything she did was to that end.

Over the years, our sex life diminished as our responsibilities increased. The more recognition the inn received, the busier we became. We used to make love four or five times a week, but that dwindled to once or twice if we were lucky. One of the things I promised Piper was that on this trip, we'd have sex every day. She seemed to approve of that suggestion.

Even at the age of 33, Piper still has a killer body. I glance over at her, noticing her long neck and defined cheekbones. She licks her finger to turn the page of the book she's reading, and I watch her intently. She has always been able to concentrate on the task at hand far better than me, and as she reads about attracting, engaging and delighting customers (or so says the book cover), I'm reminded of this.

"You can't tell me not to work and then read a book about marketing," I say.

She glances up. "I'm not working—I'm reading."

"You're reading about work," I chuckle. "Same thing."

She sighs, but there's the hint of a grin on her face. "Want me to stop?"

"No." I shake my head. "It just proves that we both enjoy our jobs."

Piper kisses me. "I love my job."

I smirk. "I love my wife."

We rest our foreheads together, and I'm reminded of how compatible we are. Our lives were diametrically opposed when we first met, but over the years, we've become equals in a way I never imagined. While I'd never categorize myself as a sosh, I have enough money to buy a mansion on the island if I wanted to. I'd never do that, but I did expand my house (that's become our house) by 5,000 square feet. I now host a party or two every summer, even inviting a few of the soshes. They invite us to their parties as well, though the only ones I attend are the Chapmans and the Nichols. (It's too bad Nicky and Shana's relationship didn't extend past the summer when I met Piper, but they remain friends.)

I thought it would be difficult to enter this realm of wealth and maintain my friendships with the locals, but other than a few flare ups over the years, we're still a tight-knit group. I want them to be as successful as I am, but I've learned that not everyone wants this kind of life. Shana, Boone and the twins are perfectly happy doing what they've always done and there's nothing wrong with that. I would've probably been in the same position if I hadn't met the woman next to me. She showed me the world of possibilities out there, and I couldn't be any more grateful, especially because she allowed me to come to terms with what I wanted without the pressure she could've surely put on me. I grew into a savvy business woman because it's what I wanted not because it's what she wanted.

I close my iPad case. "Can I ask you something?"

"Hmm?" she doesn't look up from her book at first.

"Do you think we would've gotten married and still be together today if I hadn't become a successful business woman?"

That causes her head to pop up. "What?"

"If I'd decided not to renovate the Victorian home and just stuck with my job of delivering supplies to the summer residents and running the farmer's market, do you think we would've survived as a couple?"

She juts her chin back as if this question came from out of the blue. "I never really considered it."

I accept the glass of Bourbon from the flight attendant. "Thanks."

He hands a gin and tonic to Piper. "Thank you."

"I'd like to think we would've stayed together," she says when he's out of earshot. "I loved you for who you were back then, not for who I thought you might become."

She has always been good at answering my difficult questions.

I smile. "That's nice of you to say."

"It's the truth." She shrugs. "I don't think you would've been satisfied with your old life though."

"No?"

Piper shakes her head. "You were always curious and even a little envious about the way the soshes lived. I don't think you would've been fulfilled by serving them for the rest of your life."

"True." I take a sip. "What would you have done for a living if I hadn't opened the inn?"

"I don't know." She glances away for a moment. "I would've been a writer of some sort. I mean, I would love to have been a novelist, but unless I got published in the first year out of college, I wouldn't have been able to make money doing that…" she trails off. "Maybe I would've freelanced or worked for an online publication or something."

"Why online?"

She sips her cocktail. "Because I would've lived on the island with you."

"Really?" I grin.

"If you would've kept your old jobs and I wanted to be with you, there would be no other solution," Piper responds. "Maybe I could've convinced you to move to Branford, but I don't think you would've wanted that."

"If it meant staying together, I would've done it."

She tilts her head. "Would you?"

I smirk. "If it isn't obvious by now, I'd do anything for you, babe."

She glances over her shoulder. "Even if I asked you to join the mile high club?"

"Seriously?" I laugh.

"No, but you said anything."

I give her a lingering kiss. "I'm glad we've made a life for ourselves on Oyster Island."

"Me, too."

None of this, including the first class trip to Dublin, would've been possible if I hadn't met that petulant, 17-year-old sosh on a warm summer morning as she was out for a jog and I was delivering supplies. I was consumed with worry about our social classes back then, but Piper weaseled her way into my heart and changed my life profoundly. Like I said in my vows ten years ago, she's my anchor and I'll spend every fucking day earning her love.

The End

Author's Note: Thank you to each and every one of you who were kind enough to leave a review. This is the longest story I've ever written, and it might be the one I'm most proud of from a maturing as a writer standpoint. Not sure when or if I'll write for this lovely couple again, but maybe my Muse will tap me on the shoulder when I least expect it. Thanks again.