Author's Note: Thanks everyone for sticking with this. I hope you had a nice journey with me through the story.
Neil's struck by how quiet it is after the door closes behind them. The buzz of the party is a distant noise that grows weaker as they proceed down the hallway.
The tap of Claire's heels and the idle conversation from Marta are a pleasant rhythm. He focuses on those sounds as they pass the spot where he'd been struck by that falling beam. Everything is repaired, clean lines and fresh paint still evident. He tries not to react, though Claire picks up on his distraction and silence. The sureness of her hand in his, a simple glance into her eyes so full of compassion, his own smile of reassurance, it's all enough to urge him forward.
As they get to the main floor of the brewery, winding down the stairwell and stepping into the balminess of the industrial space, Claire questions Marta about Neil's whiskey – how much they'll make, how long it'll take, when they'll get their first taste.
"I think we're in it for the long haul. I mean, I don't know if we'll still be around in 25 years, but it'd be cool to have a whiskey that is. We'll have a special party when it's ready."
Claire laughs, "I think that's a good goal. But first is the three-year?"
"Yeah, that's what we decided on. With the flavor profile we're looking for, that's the minimum we'd want to do."
The whole idea is still rather surreal for Neil. "Marta, again, I'm so honored. I know we all are. This kind of legacy is incredible."
She waves him off. "It's the very least I could do in my professional capacity. Oh, and Claire, we're entering 'the Browne' in a craft beer contest. It tested fantastically. If we place, we can run it in the international competition."
Claire is taken aback, a little shocked and speechless. It's more than enough for her to have the honor of something named after her, but this seems to please her on another level. "I don't know what to say! That sounds awesome. I hope it does well."
"I'm sure it'll quietly kick those other beers' asses," Neil affirms. "Just like its namesake."
Marta groans. "Neil, tone it down. She's already letting you hold her hand. You don't have to try so hard to be wonderful."
"Try?" he shoots right back. "My natural charm worked just fine."
"Ha! Is that the story you're sticking with?" Claire says.
Neil laughs, bringing her hand to his lips for a kiss. "You bet I am."
"Disgusting, you two. Such saps."
"Takes one to know one," Neil replies.
As they continue to poke fun at one another – mostly Marta and Claire at Neil's expense – they round the corner and enter a smaller room. More than half the space is devoted to the storage of packaging materials, but one corner houses rows of extended piping, tanks, and equipment along the walls. It's a much smaller operation than the brewery while still taking up a fair bit of room.
"We were experimenting for a while, but we're finally in production. The first batch is just around the corner." A notification tone slows her progress, and she pulls out her phone. "Ugh, they need me over at the front of the house again. An investor is asking for something, and when they say jump, I say how high." She pockets her phone and turns around. "Hey, Neil, you've been back here before. You want to show Claire and then head back up? No lingering, but you did come all this way."
Putting his arm around Claire's waist, Neil watches as Marta backtracks and passes them. "Yeah, no problem. We'll just take a quick peek. See you in a few." Marta waves and leaves them to it.
Claire stops him before they can get too far into the room. "You sure you want to check it out? I don't need to see it if it's weird for us to be down here."
Neil nudges her along. "Marta said it's okay." He glances at her again, noticing her concern for him. "And I'm fine. It'll only take a minute. It is pretty cool. Don't you want to check out my whiskey-baby?"
"Okay, let's not call it that anymore," Claire says. "It's weird when you say it. I don't know if you can hear it around your big ego, but trust me, it is." He laughs but leads her past the equipment to several racks of barrels lined up in the corner.
They walk over and peek at the specs, noting when each was filled and how long it's expected to age. He joins Claire as she leans over to try to smell anything, but all they get is the odor of the charred oak. There's a label on each identifying it as "Guardians – Melendez." She runs her hands across the name and then whips her phone out to take a picture.
"Okay, this is cool. Thanks for insisting." She stands on her toes to deliver a peck on the lips, which he happily accepts before her attention returns to the whiskey collection.
Neil's already seen this area, so he trails behind her to enjoy her reaction. She continues down the line of barrels until she gets to the last rack at he end. He waits for her to notice the difference to that one.
There's a small black box resting on top one of the barrels at eye level as if waiting for her to arrive.
He catches the exact moment she notices, watches her body freeze and her mouth drop slightly open. "Melendez?" she warns, glancing back at him before slowly approaching the box. Neil strolls over to her and plants himself at her side. He doesn't answer, wanting her to continue investigating while letting her take things in at her own pace. "This better not be …"
He grins. "Why don't you open it and see," he taunts.
In the silent room, only a few mechanical sounds in the distance, he hears her forceful exhale. She takes one slow step and then another. Before long, she's standing in front of the barrel and staring at the box, afraid to pick it up.
"Go ahead," he urges. "It won't bite."
Claire shifts her head to glare at him, yet complies. With steady fingers that he's seen a million times perform the most delicate of actions, she reaches for the box. Pulling it toward her, she grips the top, stills, and then slowly opens it.
And then she erupts in relieved yet joyous laughter.
Dipping her fingers in the box, she pulls out a seashell, dark and mottled on top with a jagged iridescence underneath. Neil closes the distance between them and wraps his arms around her. Her examination and curiosity over the object amuse him, and he responds by kissing her cheek.
"Did you really think I'd put a ring in there? I don't have a death wish."
"I wouldn't put it past you. You are a hopeless romantic, and now you're having to dumb down your skills with me."
"Oh, you have your sappy moments. And obviously, it's worth it because we have such great sex." Claire laughs and smacks him lightly on the arm. She can't deny her surrender to the romantic bath for two or candlelight massage he's inflicted on her from time to time. And she'd practically fallen into his arms when he surprised her by upgrading to a king-size bed a few months into their relationship.
"Alright, Melendez, explain yourself. What's going on here?"
The fact that he's left a random object for her to find is the odder part of this equation, not that a real proposal isn't involved. They'd decided a few weeks ago on that issue – and were ecstatic to agree that marriage is what they both want.
Of course, "deciding" on that was having a reasonable, adult conversation about the future of their relationship where she threatened to leave him if he did something as stupid as get down on one knee with a ring. Neil had been a little put out, though not surprised. She indulges his romantic side, but mostly he understands his overtures will not have the effect he wants. And he'd quietly respected her reasons when she explained that a decision to get married should be a mutual one, not some caveman gesture to ambush her into a lifetime commitment – her words, of course.
When Claire had mentioned hating romantics, she'd been serious.
So when the subject of marriage had come up, they'd talked it out. The conversation itself had gone from zero to practically jetting off to Vegas in one evening. They'd made preliminary plans, set a date and everything, including negotiations over the parameters:
No engagement ring – a waste of money and not her style, Claire declared.
Bachelor and bachelorette parties are acceptable. If he gets Lim then she gets Park (though they'll likely end up just combining the two anyway).
A church wedding is fine but not a Catholic service, which works out since their favorite hospital chaplain is happy to officiate and offer her church for the ceremony.
Invitations to exes are on a case-by-case basis. Lim is automatically in. Jared and Dash are approved as well. They're still on the fence about Jessica, who Claire thinks won't want to come anyway (she's probably right).
He has to wear a tie. Non-negotiable.
She'll let him shove a piece of cake in her face when they cut it as long as she can return the favor.
She'll consider taking his last name (he thinks she's leaning toward taking it officially but not using it professionally).
Baby-making sooner rather than later, but not something they need to figure out right now. The whiskey-baby will have to do for the time being.
They're hoping they can sweet-talk Morgan's mom and brother into doing custom centerpieces for the reception, and they're both really excited to give away mini-puzzles to each guest. It's kind of crazy to Neil how it's all been civilized and kind of fun to plan. He has to admit, he likes thinking about their future together like this.
And she's allowed him one big indulgence: he gets to surprise her with the honeymoon.
Neil takes the shell from her and turns it over in his fingers. "I've had this for years. That trip I took before med school? I brought this home with me from Ko Lanta, that island in Thailand I told you about. Those eight days had been such an unbelievable time in my life, I almost didn't want to ever talk about, thinking it would somehow make it less real or something." He laughs at himself over that. "I did say I'd go back sometime, but when I did, it would be with someone special. Someone who'd be the only person in the world I'd want to share it with. So, after our beautiful wedding where we'll agree to be stuck with each other forever, that's where we'll spend our honeymoon. Eight days on an island that's a little less remote than when I first visited, but where there are still plenty of amazing memories waiting for us."
As he talks, Claire leans her head back on his shoulder, cradling her drink in one hand and his arm in the other. Neil reaches over to return the shell to the box. "We can return the shell if you want. Pick out a new one together."
Claire smiles. "No, we should keep this one. Maybe put it on the mantle or frame it or something. It'll be a reminder that I let you romance me sometimes."
"A small victory! I'll take it," replies Neil as Claire turns in his arms. Her eyes are a bit moist and misty and it surprises him. "Oh hey, did I finally put a little dent in that cold, non-romantic heart of yours?"
Sniffling a little, Claire clears her throat to get a hold of herself. "I wouldn't call it a dent. Maybe a ding or a scratch."
"Well, that's a victory too." Neil leans down and kisses her slowly and fully. He takes her beer and carefully sets it down on the barrel next to his own. Hands now free, he wraps them around her, pulling her to him and deepening their kiss. She brings one of her hands to back of his neck, holding him to her.
When they finally break apart, she presses her cheek to him, wanting to remain close. He has no objections at all to that. She leans back and cradles his face. "I love it, Neil. Thank you for wanting to share something so special with me."
He turns his head to kiss the palm of her hand. "I want to share everything with you. This is only one of many things." Her beaming smile elicits one of his own, reminds him that she's his, and she wants this just as much as he does.
Taking in the space they're in, he sighs, remembering how it looked over a year ago – a wreck and in shambles, a scene of tragedy and second chances. To be here like this feels like the most precious gift. Returning his gaze to Claire, he can tell she's guessed what he's thinking about and holds him tighter.
"We have all the time in the world now," she reminds him, her usual response when he gets too somber about the difficult path they've had to travel to get here. Reaching up for another sweet but brief kiss, she steps out of his embrace but takes his hands to head back the way they came. "Now let's get back to the party before Marta sends security after us."
Neil laughs. "Oh, she wouldn't do that. She's in on the whole thing. There are actually some people in the world who are on the side of romance."
She smirks back at him. "I'll have to thank her then."
Before they get too far, Neil stops and goes back to retrieve their drinks, handing hers over and taking her hand again."But yes, let's get back. The music was just kicking in, and you owe me a dance or two. I have a few more moves I plan to put on you."
Claire giggles at his forwardness. "I might have to wait in line behind your fan club, though."
"Nope. You are numbers one through one hundred on my dance card."
"What about Lim and Morgan? It'd be rude to deprive your friends and colleagues of such a skilled partner."
Neil laughs. "Audrey and Morgan are terrible dancers, so no, I'll stick to my regular partner." He pulls her to him, encouraging her to grab hold of his arm as he escorts her back to party. "We might be too hot for this crowd, though. We can't let loose like we do at home." Ever since Neil walked in on Claire one evening prancing around his kitchen to some sultry R&B number, they'd made it a regular part of their home-life, even if only a couple times a week. That first night, he'd snuck up on her, sliding into her personal space to move his body with hers. And after that, on any given night they could be found grooving to club bangers, moving furniture around to practice their Latin dancing, or swaying to slow jams. More often than not, it led to sex in an unconventional part of the house.
And if they both get their way, they'll get to dance together with that kind of abandon for the rest of their long lives.
They slowly retrace their steps, Claire, relaxed and leisurely on his arm. With one last look around, he thinks he's ready to leave it all behind, what happened here a year ago – the brushes with death, the changes it's made in his life, some unfortunate, some amazing. It's paved the way for him to be standing here next to the woman he's allowed himself to love, joking about the life they're building together. There aren't words to express his gratitude for it all.
He turns to Claire, locked into her beautiful, expressive eyes. "Here's to do-overs," he says. But instead of raising his glass, he leans down for one last lingering kiss that she returns with a deep love and enthusiasm. And then they stroll back toward their community, their colleagues and friends, their waiting life.
The End