From there, Gilbert and Alice's time together is a gleaming silver trace, a bird soaring upward, a ribboning triumph of besting the fates others had set out for them. For the most part, the times are happy ones. Alice finishes her transition physically: her eyebrows are trimmed, her Adam's apple shaved down, her body made softer by the estrogen shots. She offers to have implants put into her breasts, but Gilbert assures her that he prefers the gentle slopes of her body over any unnatural alternative. And, when they do make love for the first time, the second, third—it is always with the same awe from Gilbert as he worships her and holds her as if she is something valuable, something precious.
Of course, there are darker times, too. There are times when Alice's nightmares return in full force, when the hormones in her system overwhelm her, when she thinks she may never stop crying. And things have gone wrong for Gilbert, too—though he smooths things over with Zwingli, on more than one occasion he is jumped by the gangs he has mistreated in the past. He does not fight back; both parties know it is fair retribution, even if Gilbert was just following orders before. He loses a tooth one occasion, breaks three ribs another. But Dominik always heals his wounds. While Gilbert soothes the damaged parts of Alice's mind, she soothes the broken parts of his body. No matter how dark things get, they are there to give light.
As for the others, Gilbert and Alice hear only bits and pieces. Alfred Jones holds a funeral service for Arthur, and Gilbert takes Alice to visit the grave afterward. She touches the letters of the stone, but she does not weep as Alfred did. It is not a reason to mourn. One should not be sad for an ending; one should be happy for the new beginning.
Berwald and Tino have a new beginning of their own: they send pictures of their adopted son, a sweet-faced boy in a sailor hat. Peter, he's called. They promise to bring him to America one day, so Gilbert and Alice can meet him.
Eduard, good to his word, does make a home for himself and Raivis, but they spend many evenings at Gilbert's house. Eduard and Alice work with a surprising camaraderie in the kitchen, making peculiar English/Estonian hybrid meals while Gilbert teaches Raivis to wrestle in the living room. Not comrades, but family.
And there are the small things. Alice's first shopping spree for dresses. Gilbert giving her a cheery-voiced canary for her birthday. The discovery that, when Gilbert wraps his arm around her in bed, her head nestles perfectly under his chin.
And, of course, one bright day, brighter than any day Alice has seen before or since, Gilbert gets down on one knee. The ring he offers to her is not gold but silver, and a small but beautiful emerald gleams on it. Will you marry me, sweetheart?
And in that moment, Alice pauses. She feels, both around her and inside her, the sense of togetherness. She knows he's still there, watching her, following her, seeing where she will take them. She knows Arthur is smiling for her, just as Gilbert is. She knows what Gilbert and Arthur and everyone want her to say. And, for once, it's what she wants, as well. So, with her hands over her beating heart, she says it.
Yes.
.
The End.