Epilogue: Tobias – Anniversary
The kids have never been to Philadelphia. They've never seen a crowd this large, let alone seen their parents speak to it. And it's clear they don't know what to make of any of this.
Abigail sticks close to me, despite the fact that virtually our whole faction is here, so she has plenty of adults she knows nearby. I guess this is one of those times when a kid just wants her dad.
Eli, in the meantime, is in full meltdown mode. He slept almost the entire car ride from Chicago to here, and then he was awake most of the night in the hotel. So, now he's confused and off schedule, and he just wants to cling to his mother. But Tris is coordinating her speech with President Miller, so he's having to settle for me. And from the way he's thrashing in my arms and screaming at the top of his lungs, it's clear he's not happy about it.
"It's okay, Eli," Abigail says soothingly, reaching out in an attempt to stroke his head.
She's such a good big sister, and he normally listens to her well, so I know he must really be in a foul mood when he swats at her angrily and screams "No no no!" as loudly as he can.
"Hey," I say sharply, moving him out of reach of my daughter. "No hitting! We do not hit each other." But he just wails, and I know he's too tired and upset to be rational right now. This whole situation is a lot for a seventeen-month-old to handle, after all.
"He just needs to cry it out," I tell Abigail, trying to ease her hurt feelings. She crosses her arms and glares at him in an affronted manner before she nods stiffly.
"I'm going to walk him around a bit," I add, talking over the noise that Eli is making. "Do you want to come with me or stay with George?" She looks at George, who's standing near the others as they're being prepped for their role in tonight's ceremony. He's one of her favorite people, but apparently that's not enough right now.
"I want to go with you," she answers.
"All right," I say, "but you have to stick near me." She nods again, looking serious, and I know she'll obey. She may only be six, but she's good that way.
I pull Eli firmly against me as I start walking. He's still thrashing, but I hold his head to my chest so he can hear my heartbeat and can feel the vibrations of my voice through my body, and I bounce him in a gentle rocking motion as I begin talking in a monotone. I learned a long time ago that the words don't matter as long as I keep up a consistent rhythm and avoid mentioning names that will catch his attention. So, I do what I usually do and describe what's around us.
"There are a lot of people here, aren't there?" I say in a smooth, even tone. "There will be a lot more coming, too. They're all here to celebrate fifteen years of the UCA. That's a country, you know. Your mother and great-grandmother and uncle and…." I hesitate, not wanting to say names that will make Eli look for the people they belong to. "And most of your faction helped found this country, so we're all part of tonight's anniversary celebration."
I look around at the gathering crowd, feeling a bit nervous at the prospect of giving a speech to all these people, but I continue in a level tone. "Your great-grandmother is going to start, and then your uncle will talk, and then I'll introduce your mother, as if there's anyone who doesn't know her, and then she's going to talk, too. After that, President Miller will say something, and then he'll give medals to those of us who stopped NUSA almost sixteen years ago.
My eyes scan the crowd, moving past my faction-mates and finally catching on Peter where he's standing near Christina and Uriah. "I don't think you know Peter," I say slowly, thinking about all the roles I've seen him take in the decade and a half I've known him and trying to figure out if he interacted with the kids in any of those. I'm pretty sure he didn't.
"The first time I met him, he was an initiate in Dauntless with your mother, and I was their instructor. That was long before your mother and I got married, and a really long time before you were born. Peter was…not a very nice person then, to be honest, but he's gotten much better over the years. I guess it goes to show that people can change, sometimes."
"Anyway," I continue in my monotone, "he came with us to this city to stop NUSA, and he helped us a lot more than I would have expected. After that, he worked with your mother for a while." I can feel one side of my mouth lift as I remember Tris reluctantly admitting that Peter was really good at the job she gave him. "And then he was your great-grandmother's assistant for a long time. After she retired, he became Johanna's assistant, so he's back and forth between here and Chicago a lot." I pause, still watching Peter, before adding, "I'm surprised he isn't talking today, but I suppose he's always liked to be just behind the people in power."
"And over there," I continue, grasping at another familiar sight in order to keep talking, "is someone else you haven't met yet. Her name is Margot, and she's been in the government since we first knocked NUSA out of power. These days, she's in charge of the country's roads and transportation systems. She's the reason you were able to sleep so soundly the whole way here – she filled all the potholes and repaired all the damage on those roads. Remind me to 'thank' her…" I mutter, thinking that Eli would be a lot easier to manage at the moment if the roads hadn't been quite so smooth. Still, he seems to be settling down now. He's not thrashing as much, and he's making the humming sound he typically does as he fights sleep, just before he gives in to it.
"They'll both be getting medals tonight too," I continue, keeping my voice even and still rocking my son gently back and forth. "And then, after the whole ceremony is done, there will be very loud fireworks that will undoubtedly wake you back up again and get you even more hyped up. That will be all kinds of fun."
Beside me, I see Abigail perk up with interest, and I realize that unlike her brother, she's listening to what I'm actually saying. I make a mental note to be more careful with what I utter while soothing Eli around her.
"And then we'll spend a few days exploring this city before we head back to Chicago. That should be interesting, since you haven't seen it before, and I gather they have a lot of new things to do since the last time your mother and I were here."
"It's kind of a strange place," I add thoughtfully, looking around again. "I remember when I saw it for the first time. It looked so big compared with Chicago, and there were people all over the streets, living in little tents everywhere. I couldn't believe how many people there were – more than I'd ever seen in my lifetime. And we couldn't talk to them, because they had been brainwashed by NUSA, and they were all dangerous to us."
Abigail is watching me with her serious expression, and I suspect she's thinking about NUSA versus the UCA and what she's learned about them both in school this year. She's in first grade now, and I know they've been covering some basic history in the last month, building up to the fifteenth anniversary of the country.
"That was a rough time," I add, talking more to her than Eli, but still keeping my voice smooth and level. "But we got through it. We figured out where NUSA was sending the brainwashing broadcasts from, and we went there, and we…stopped them. And then your mother served as the interim president for close to a year, while they figured out a new structure for the government and helped people to live better lives. It was a lot of work, but she did a great job. You should be proud of her."
Eli is starting to go limp now, getting heavier as fatigue drags his body down. Just a bit longer, and he should be sound asleep….
"That stage is pretty high up," I say calmly. "I don't really like heights, but it shouldn't be a problem today. I'm likely to be too busy looking at all those thousands and thousands of people to pay much attention to anything else. Well, except maybe the millions of others who will be watching on television. There's nothing like a small, friendly atmosphere to make it easy to talk." Beside me, I hear Abigail giggle, and I give her a quick grin.
Eli's head drops against me, his whole body relaxed, and I know he's finally asleep. I shift him to the side a bit so I can rest him on my lap as I crouch down next to my daughter.
"You and Eli will stay with George during the ceremony, okay?" I say gently. "You'll be on the stage, but off to the side where people can't see you." I point to the area where the curtains hide the side of the stage. "So, you don't need to be nervous."
She nods, looking hesitant despite my reassurance, and I add, "But you'll be able to see me and Mom the whole time, and we'll come get you as soon as the ceremony is over. Okay?"
"Yeah," she answers in her best brave voice, and I can't help but smile. Our society doesn't give aptitude tests anymore, but if they did, I'm pretty sure Abigail would score equally high in all five of the traditional factions. She's her mother's child all the way through, except I suppose in her appearance. She has plenty of me there, with her dark hair and full lips and deep blue eyes. It took me a while to stop seeing those eyes as Marcus', since I saw them far more often on him than on myself while growing up, given Abnegation's ban on mirrors. But now I see them purely as my daughter's, and I finally understand why Tris likes them so much.
"Daddy," Abigail whispers, her voice barely audible over the background noise from the crowd. "Can I ask you a question?" Her expression is serious again, and she's biting her lip the way Tris always does when she's stressed.
"Absolutely," I answer, meeting her eyes to show she has my full attention.
"At school…" she begins hesitantly. "Billy said something I didn't like." I raise an eyebrow, already not liking whoever this Billy is. Presumably, he's a classmate of hers. "He said that you brainwashed everyone in the country into loving Mommy. Is that true?"
I sigh, my eyes wandering over the crowd as I think about what to say. "There's no black and white answer to that," I finally reply, meeting my daughter's gaze with the admission. "It's true that I broadcast a message to the entire country, and I used Mom as a role model for everyone. And yes, that made people like her and listen to her. It also changed how they acted and how they treated each other…. You could call that a kind of brainwashing."
Abigail's face falls a little, and I know she doesn't like hearing that. I make my voice firm as I add, "But you have to understand what was happening at the time. NUSA was doing terrible things to its people, and we had to change that." I pause, trying to come up with a comparison she'll understand.
"It's like if you saw someone at school hurting someone else. You wouldn't just turn away and let them do that, would you?" Abigail shakes her head quickly, tightening her hands into fists at just the thought of ignoring someone else's peril. "Well, we were in the same situation. NUSA was hurting people – lots of people – and we decided to help. But the only way we could do that was to broadcast a message. The question was really just what the message should say."
I clear my throat before adding, "I chose to talk about Mom in it, because she was the best person I knew. And I put her in charge because she was smart, and because I was sure that she would never abuse the power. There wasn't anyone else I trusted enough for that."
Eli is getting heavy in my arms, and I shift him slightly as I continue. "I suppose history will have to decide if I was right or not. But I've got to tell you – if I were in the same situation again today, I'd do the same thing." I glance around at the crowd and add, "And I think most of these people would agree. Their lives are much better now, and they have far more freedom. They owe an awful lot of that to Mom."
Abigail looks down, nodding a bit as if she understands. But at the same time, I'm not sure I've ever seen her look so sad. It tugs at my heart.
"Is that why I love Mommy so much?" she asks very quietly, clearly struggling with the words. "Because you brainwashed me?"
"No," I answer quickly, suddenly understanding her concern. "No, honey, not at all. You never even heard the broadcast. That was years before you were born. Years." I wait until she meets my eyes again before adding, "You love Mom because she's your mom, and because she loves you, and because she's worth loving. No one made you feel anything for her or for anyone else."
Abigail stares at me for a moment, weighing my words carefully. I smile a little as I add, "Sometimes, we just love people. Like how I love you, and Eli, and Mom. No one brainwashed me into that."
Finally, a small smile forms on my daughter's mouth, and I can see her shoulders visibly relax. I wonder how long she's been worrying about this. Probably all week, and maybe longer…. I guess that's the problem with having an intelligent and independent child. You never know quite what's in her head until her Dauntless side comes through enough to make her speak up.
"I don't think I'm going to talk to Billy anymore," she says, pursing her lips, and a chuckle vibrates through me.
"He does sound like a whiner," I comment drily. Abigail giggles, and I add, "But instead of ignoring him…maybe it would be better if I came and talked to your class. Sometimes, people just need to ask questions and get real information."
She considers that for a moment and then nods decisively. "I like that idea. Because Billy has been really annoying, and he keeps talking about this, and that made Mindy start talking, and then all of the kids started saying the same thing, and it's not fair." She crosses her arms to emphasize her frustration before adding, "Do you think Ms. Connor would let you talk to them all?"
I manage to keep my face serious to match hers as I nod. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure she'll agree." I don't mention that teachers are always trying to recruit Tris and me to speak to their classes. It's not something I typically like to do, but I'll make an exception in this case. "I'll work it out with her." A smirk crosses my face as I add, "And if she doesn't agree…I'll just have a little chat with Billy sometime when I pick you up from school. I can be kind of intimidating, you know."
Abigail looks at me levelly for a moment, evaluating my statement, and I can't help but feel glad that she has to think about the concept. By the time I was her age, I was terrified of my father.
"Mom is scarier," she answers finally, and a grin splits my face.
"Much scarier," I agree simply. "We'll sic her on him." I stand up, feeling the ache in my legs from crouching so long, and I take my daughter's hand in my free one. "But when you get older," I add, my voice dropping, "your boyfriends will have to deal with me."
By the time I rejoin my faction-mates, Eli sleeping soundly on my shoulder and Abigail staying close to my side, the ceremony manager is halfway through her instructions. She frowns at me before repeating the most important information I missed, describing how we'll cross the stage to receive our medals, and the order in which we'll go. It's not exactly difficult, and after I parrot her words back easily, she relaxes somewhat.
I suppose I can understand why she's nervous. This will be the largest anniversary celebration yet, with some 800,000 people expected to pack into the area to watch us finally receive recognition for our role in ending NUSA. And it probably seems strange to her that we waited to do this until fifteen years after our mission – more like sixteen, really, since the UCA wasn't officially founded until close to ten months after my broadcast.
It wasn't that no one wanted to do this earlier; the timing just never worked out. We didn't want to hold the ceremony unless all of us could go, and Amar wasn't up to handling the crowds until after the big fifth year celebration. So, we decided to wait until the tenth anniversary, since that seemed like a good round number. But when that rolled around, Christina was pregnant with Emily. She said she was willing to travel anyway, but Uriah was panicked that his baby would be born on the road with no medical facilities nearby, so we opted to wait for the fifteenth.
But I'm glad we're here now. Not for my sake – I couldn't care less about getting a piece of metal to validate my actions – but for the rest of our group, particularly Amar. That mission cost him a lot, and he deserves to be recognized for everything he did on it. The others do, too.
My eyes wander across them, remembering everything they did all those years ago. Anna didn't come with us on that trip, but she was unquestionably instrumental in our success anyway. She planned the mission and recruited people for it, including Amar, and she ensured we had the resources we needed. She even gave us her wedding ring to fund our journey. A smile flits briefly over my lips as I think of it on Tris' finger now; it wasn't easy to retrieve after we sold it in Pittsburgh, but I can be creative sometimes….
Lauren, Priscilla, and Doug didn't make it the whole way to Philadelphia, either, but they got us safely past the military forces in Toledo, and they kept the rebels in Pittsburgh safe. Without them, it would have been much harder to get the new government up and running.
Amar got us through so many things that went wrong, keeping us together and on task no matter how hard it got. And he got Tris to safety when they were discovered in the doctor's office. I swallow, remembering how he was forced to kill Pari after she was captured, in order to protect the rest of us. I'm still not sure I could have done that, but there's no question the entire mission would have failed if he hadn't.
Christina boldly faced every obstacle we encountered, never faltering despite her injured leg. We made it to the Control Computer because of her bravery and shooting skills in those last critical minutes. And Cara took care of us throughout, saving Lauren's life and probably Tris'. I can never thank her enough for that.
Caleb redeemed himself, braving dangers I would not have expected given how cowardly I thought he was at the time. And then he went on to play a huge role in building the UCA during the year after that. I watch him for a moment, thinking about how important he is in our family's life. For most of my childhood, I had exactly one family member, but now I have a wife and children and a mother and sister and brother-in-law and grandmother-in-law, not to mention friends who are as close as family. My life is far richer for all of them.
My eyes move on to Margot, and I think about how she kept us going through the entire mission, giving us a safe place to sleep and to plan and ensuring that we always remembered why we were doing this. And Peter made a huge difference too. We never would have reached the Control Computer without his ideas, and in the end, he and Uriah protected me long enough to start the transmission.
We probably wouldn't have made it without any one of them.
We wouldn't have succeeded without my father, either. It's still difficult for me to admit that, but I know it's true. As much as I hate him for what he did to Tris, and to me, and to my mother, part of me will always be grateful to him for leading the soldiers away at that crucial moment. He saved my life with that action. He saved us all, really. He'll receive a posthumous medal today, as will the others who died on the mission. I reluctantly agreed to accept his on his behalf.
I snap back to the present as the ceremony manager dismisses us, telling everyone to meet back at this spot in half an hour. But she gathers Anna and Caleb and me to give us additional instructions about our speeches. I try to pay attention, bringing out my old Abnegation habits, but she's really just making me more nervous as she keeps talking about staying near the microphone so everyone in the vast audience will be able to hear us.
This will be by far the largest crowd I've ever addressed in person, though I suppose it's not the biggest one I've communicated with in some manner. After all, virtually the entire population has seen my thoughts. In a way, that makes it easier to talk to them about Tris today. They already know what I think of her and how much I love her.
The manager drones on, and I'm getting ready to make up an excuse to leave when I see Tris heading toward us.
For a moment, I'm captivated just by the sight of my wife. She rarely wears dresses, but she's in one for today's ceremony, and between the flow of the fabric and the way her hair hangs loosely around her shoulders, she's more than a little striking. But what I notice most, as I always do, is the intensity of her eyes. Even from twenty feet away, I can see the energy in them, their blue-gray mix catching the light as she smiles at me. God, she's beautiful.
Sometimes, it still amazes me that I'm this lucky, that I'm getting to spend my life with the woman I love, with the family we've built together, and with closer friends than I could have imagined having. I don't think I'll ever take any of that for granted.
"Mom!" Abigail calls happily, running up to hug Tris. I watch them talk quietly for a moment before I excuse myself from the others and move to join them.
"Hi," I murmur, leaning down to kiss my wife. It probably shouldn't be this easy to ignore everyone nearby, but right now I can't help but just enjoy her scent and the feel of her lips against mine. She pulls back first, giving me a little smile before pausing to look at Eli in my arms.
"He actually looks small when you hold him like that," she says. I know what she means. Abigail was absolutely perfect when she was born, despite weighing a little less than six pounds. The doctors said that type of birth size is common when the mother is as small as Tris, and sure enough, she grew quickly afterwards and has been a bit taller than average most of her six years.
Eli, on the other hand, has always been big. He had to be delivered surgically, and he's topped the growth charts ever since. My mother thinks I was about the same height at that age, though there are no records to give an accurate comparison. The Abnegation always felt it was selfish to keep information like that. Still, it's a safe bet that Eli is on his way to matching or exceeding my height, and in the meantime, it's rare for Tris to get to see our son looking his age. I let her enjoy this moment.
"He was a bear to get to sleep," I say as I shift him to the side to change his weight distribution. "He really wanted you." As Tris nods, I add with a sly smile, "So, I think you owe me big-time here."
She chuckles softly. "I'm sure we can figure out some way I can repay you," she responds before standing on her toes to kiss me again. "Later," she whispers against my lips, and for a second I forget to breathe. It's exhilarating being this close together when we're in front of a crowd we'll be addressing soon.
But I pull away before I get lost in her presence. After all, Abigail is still standing next to us. Tris must be thinking the same thing, because she turns to our daughter again.
"Come on, Abigail," she says, taking her hand. "It's time to start getting in position. We'd better find George."
Tris links her other hand with my free one, and together we head toward where George and Amar are standing with Christina and Uriah's daughter, Emily.
"You ready for this?" I ask Amar, pulling my hand temporarily out of Tris' so I can give him a friendly clap on the shoulder.
"Absolutely," he answers firmly. But I look at his eyes, and the way he holds his mouth, and his body language, pulling on my inner Candor to ensure he means it. To my relief, everything about him radiates quiet confidence.
It took a long time for him to get to this point. The first months after my broadcast were by far the hardest, but even after that, it was incredibly difficult for him to be around negative emotions or anything remotely violent – or even to handle loud noises and unexpected events. I can't help but feel proud of him as he stands here, this relaxed in front of such a large crowd in a city that has so many bad associations for him. It tells me that he's truly recovered.
"Good," I answer, "because I'm glad you're here." He gives me an appreciative grin.
"You too, George," I add. Lightening the mood a bit, I continue, "We really needed a babysitter, and otherwise we would have had to pay someone."
Amar laughs, but George gives me his best affronted look. "I'm not getting paid? That's it…. I'm out of here." He turns as if to go, and Abigail's eyes widen. She still has a hard time recognizing straight-faced humor, much to Zeke and Uriah's continual delight.
"No, don't go," she says quickly, pulling away from Tris to grab George's hand. "I don't want to stay with a stranger!"
I smirk a little, realizing it will now be considerably easier for her to separate from us for the length of the ceremony.
"Dad," she huffs, turning to me. "You need to pay him!"
"Hhmmm," I answer slowly, working to keep the corners of my mouth down. Across from me, I can see George struggling the same way, and I know this is turning into a contest of who can make the other laugh first. We seem to do that a lot in our faction.
"How about if I buy you an ice cream cone?" I say, gesturing toward the stand that I noticed earlier. "That's pretty good payment, I think."
Abigail's face lights up. "That's a good deal," she tells George seriously, and I can see his lips quivering now with the effort not to crack a smile.
"You think I should take it?" he asks her in a conspiratorial whisper, leaning down to her eye level. She nods solemnly.
"Okay," he answers deadpan. Turning to me, he says, "It's a deal." He shakes my hand firmly, Dauntless-style. "But you'll have to buy one for Amar and the kids, too," he adds, gesturing to Emily and Abigail.
I give an exaggerated sigh. "You drive a hard bargain…" I mutter as I pull out my wallet, juggling it around my sleeping son to remove enough money for all of them. George takes it with a wink before gently lifting Eli from my shoulder, being careful not to awaken him.
"You coming?" he asks Amar as he settles the toddler into place against his own chest.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Amar answers with an easy grin. Glancing at us, he adds, "See you on-stage, Four, Tris."
For a moment, my wife and I watch our friends depart with our children. Then, we turn as one, lacing our fingers together as we head toward the entrance to the stage.
"Did you get everything coordinated with President Miller?" I ask Tris.
"Yeah, finally," she says, sounding a bit annoyed. "He kept trying to add things that will help with his reelection campaign, and I kept saying no."
"Does he know yet that Johanna is running?" I keep my voice low to ensure we're not overheard.
"No." She grins. "I neglected to mention that little detail." Tris has held to a firm policy of not endorsing candidates in any election, since her word still carries a lot of power in this country. And I know she'll stick to that even with Johanna running, but there's no doubt that people will associate the two of them anyway. They've been seen together in public enough times to give Johanna an advantage that will easily outweigh any maneuvering President Miller pulls today.
Personally, I'm glad. It's not that Miller has been a bad president. I just think that Johanna will be a better one.
"Has she asked you to be her V.P. yet?" Tris asks.
"No," I say, startled. "Why would she do that?"
Tris doesn't answer immediately, since we've now reached the door to the back-stage area, and there's a guard standing by it. He nods to us in greeting as he lets us pass, and I lead my wife through the door and into the relatively dark area beyond it. It's quiet here – hidden from the crowd and temporarily empty of people. I stop, turning to face Tris so we can finish our conversation in private.
"Did she say she was going to ask me?" I'm still confused by the idea. Johanna and I have worked together on a number of occasions, but not so often that I'd expect to top her list of choices for vice president.
"No," Tris says with a shrug. "But I wouldn't be surprised if she does. She knows you'd be good at it."
I don't know about that, but I don't feel like debating the issue, so I answer with an easier excuse. "I'm not quite old enough." It still amuses me that Tris insisted on a minimum age for most elected positions back when the government was being formed. I suspect she did it so no one would try to draft her into a position she didn't want, but it means that she still isn't old enough now to hold the job she had almost sixteen years ago.
"You'll turn thirty-five before the swear-in date, so you could run," Tris tells me.
"I suppose," I say with a bit of a sigh, scuffing a foot against the floor. "But I don't want the job. And I don't want to live in Philadelphia, and I don't want to leave all our friends behind or take Abigail out of her school. So…no." As I say it, I realize I'm certain about it. I will absolutely turn Johanna down if she asks.
In the dim light, I can see Tris nodding thoughtfully. "I can understand that," she responds, and I know that she really does get it. She'll never run for office, either, partly for the reasons I just gave and partly because she's done with that part of her life. She's put in more than enough public service, and she's never been power-hungry.
"Are you nervous about your speech?" I ask her, changing the subject.
"A little," she answers honestly, "but I'll be okay once I get started. The first minute is always the hardest." She looks at me and adds, "It would help if you'd tell me how you plan to introduce me."
A smile pulls my lips upwards. "Sorry, but you'll have to find out with everyone else." The truth is I haven't entirely decided what to say. I have a general idea, of course, but I do better with spontaneous talking in situations like this. It seems to bring out my courage more. So, I'm leaving the details to sort themselves out.
I pull Tris closer to me, my face just inches from hers now. "But I won't say anything bad," I add softly. "How could I when I'm talking about you?" I can feel her grin more than I can see it in this light. It sends little shoots of warmth through me, and suddenly I'm aware of just how close we are. Her presence seems to be vibrating through every part of me.
"Have I mentioned recently that I love you?" I whisper, breathing in her scent.
"No," she answers teasingly, "I don't think you've ever told me that."
"Mmm, well, clearly I need to work on my communication skills," I murmur. My lips find the sweet spot behind her ear, and I feel her shiver lightly as I kiss there and begin pressing my way softly down the side of her neck.
"I am absolutely," I say with a kiss to the base of her neck. "Completely." My lips touch the first of her ravens. "Totally." They find the second. "And permanently." They land on the third. "In love with you."
She's quivering just a little now, her breath almost a moan. I cup my fingers around the back of her neck, trying not to mess up her hair so soon before she has to go on stage, and I pull her to me as I kiss her deeply on the lips this time. She wraps one arm around my waist while the other hand runs up the back of my head as she responds passionately.
For a long moment, we are far more wrapped up in each other than we should be this close to stage-time. Finally, we pull apart, breathing heavily as I rest my forehead on hers.
"I love you too, Tobias," she says. She runs a hand down my chest and over my stomach. "And I would definitely like to continue this 'conversation' later, somewhere more private…."
A sly smile creeps across my face as I murmur, "I'm pretty sure no one would notice us in the middle of the stage."
She chuckles. "You'll do anything to get out of a speech, won't you?" She pulls away a little further, reluctantly I think, as she links one hand with mine again and resolutely turns us back the way we need to go.
"It was worth a try," I say, grinning widely. Tris squeezes my hand in amusement before pulling me into motion.
As we walk the last stretch toward the stage, I reflect on my conversation with Abigail and on what I'm going to say in my speech today. And as I think, the nervousness fades, replaced by the certainty that it won't be hard to talk about Tris or about why I gave the broadcast the way I did. It can't be hard, not when I think about those reasons every day.
I lean close to my wife, warmth filling me as I draw from her strength the way I so often do. When it comes down to it, I made the same choice sixteen years ago that I've been making ever since, the same one that I know I'll make every day for the rest of my life and undoubtedly beyond. Over and over, I choose Tris. For me, that choice has changed everything.