An epilogue by any other name...

Well, all of that happened a little over two years ago and though I’m not by any means cured of my self esteem issues, I’ve definitely improved greatly. It’s a lot easier to think of myself as an attractive person and I think because of this new confidence I actually have gotten more attractive.

Why else would I get asked out by guys on an almost regular basis, right?

The independent woman in me may want to negate it, but I must admit Link had a lot to do with my boost in confidence. I don’t care who you are or what your constitution, you can’t have a guy be so wonderful to you and adore you so much and not feel better about yourself. I wouldn’t say he changed my life, I’d just say he pushed me to change it myself.

We had a good run too, Link and I, and remained strong through graduation, the summer and the first semester of college. But the long distance thing is never easy and though I ended up at a college only three hours away from his Stanford, we sort of drifted apart. I’ve never been the best pen pal and he isn’t great with correspondence either so we just sort of let ourselves fizzle out. I’m sure if I saw him again we could be friendly, but it’s just been so long since I’ve talked to him it would probably be a little awkward.

God, wouldn’t this story totally suck if that were true?

Oh, speak of the devil. I believe I see a tall and handsome number jogging toward me across the grass. This was a good place to meet him, leaning against his car in the parking lot, looking slightly seductive. It was better than at his dorm room where I’d be forced to talk to his nice but slightly clingy roommate.

“Ophelia, my love!” he bellows with a big smile. He has traded in his gray trench coat for a slim black denim jacket and I can’t complain. The guy just looks good in coats.

He reaches me with his arms outstretched but instead of hugging him, I crinkle my nose and tug at his shaggy hair, “Ever heard of scissors, Stanford?”

He lets me wiggle my fingers through his long black hair, “You know I only like to let you cut it. Any excuse to have you run your fingers through my hair, I like.”

He loves that feeling, of me combing my fingers through his hair that is, he’s always trying to get me to do it when we watch movies or are lounging for one reason or another.

He grabs the hand currently at his sideburn and pushes a kiss to my palm, my wrist, my elbow before reaching forward and pushing a kiss to my mouth. I can’t help but chuckle, he’s practically in flames with sexual frustration, I can hear it in his furnace-like breathing.

“God, I missed you,” he groans into my mouth as he wraps his arms around my middle.

Though I’m feeling just as riled up as he is, I remain calm, “It’s only been a week, Stanford.”

“I know, but every weekend isn’t enough for me. And the semester has done spectacular things to you; you get more beautiful every time I see you. You should really consider transferring here,” he broke off from my mouth and lined my jaw with open mouth kisses.

“Right, like Stanford’s going to take me,” I roll my eyes but thoroughly enjoy the feeling of his mouth on my neck. He still wears that damn cologne that drives me nuts.

“Come on James, have some faith in yourself,” he grins at me. In the last two years of our relationship, he has come to call me James when he’s being cheeky. At first I didn’t like it but I suppose, like all nicknames, I got used to it and I now get a little flutter in my stomach whenever he uses it. Pathetic, but there you go.

“You’re just going to have to be patient,” I say like a scolding mother. “We’ve talked about how the long-distance thing isn’t going to be easy, don’t poop out on me now, Suthersby.”

“I know, I just miss seeing you every day,” he kisses my collar bone, then my cheek, then sweeps my bangs away from my scar so he can kiss that too. Yeah, he still does that.

“Hey, we’ve got a whole month of winter break ahead of us; we’ll be seeing plenty of each other. By the end, you’ll be sick of me,” I grin, rumpling his long hair. “God, your hair’s so out of control!”

“I’ll never get tired of you,” he says, smiling at me, “now, when we’re married I may get sick of you, but only once in awhile.”

“Oh, we’re getting married now? I don’t see a ring on my finger,” I say playfully.

“Don’t tempt me to put one on there,” his eyes flash enigmatically.

I raise a brow, “Are you feeling tempted?”

“Someday,” he says in a mock patronizing voice, “we’ve gotta be patient, remember? Don’t poop out on me now, James.”

His smile makes me blush and giddy for the future.

“So are you all packed, sir? We have to head out soon if we want to beat the traffic heading home,” I say, trying to get over the flush of excitement. It only makes me massage his scalp and push my body a little less subtly against his though. Hey, a week’s a long time to be separated from the guy, I can’t help myself.

“Everything but the sheets,” he’s grinning like a devil.

“Oh, I was hoping you’d say that,” I meet his firm kisses happily, feeling their warmth and their love clearly.

“Have I told you how great you look?” he huffs.

“You tell me that on the phone for Pete’s sake,” I giggle. “You’re just trying to get me into bed.”

“Well, yes, but you do look amazing.”

“As do you, even if I can’t see your eyes because of all this hair!”

He rolls his eyes and feigns a huff of frustration before he pulls the hair back and out of his face so I can see his glassy black eyes and his sculpted jaw.

“There we go,” I say with a pleased grin, “so how were the ladies here at Stanford this semester?”

“Boring,” he answers automatically, not taking his eyes off of me, “they don’t even tempt me to cheat on you.”

“The nerve,” I mock.

“I know. How are the guys on your end?” he asks as he kisses my neck and practically pushes me backwards onto the hood of his car. “Still as stunning as ever?”

“Oh yes,” I giggle as my back hits the cool hood, “they still can’t read more than three sentences strung together.”

“That’s what you get for having such high standards,” he grins at me in his arrogant way and instead of pinching his side, I run my fingertips up his neck into his hair. He reacts with a tiny shudder of pleasure.

“That’s what I get for already having a beautiful genius I love like mad for a boyfriend,” I reply.

He grins at this, even blushes a little, then notices a few of the quizzical stares in our direction. Seeing as he is practically on top of me and we’re laying on the hood of a car out in the open, I don’t blame them for staring.

“Perhaps we should move this elsewhere,” he snorts.

“Yeah, let’s go, uh, make use of your sheets, pack your stuff in the car and then hit the road,” I say, hoping upon all hopes his roommate has already gone home for the holiday. I don’t think I could stand six hours on the road without being able to touch him.

He kisses me softly then stands up and offers me his hand. I take it and slide off his hood. He slips an arm around my shoulders and turns me in the direction of his dorm building, which is a short walk from the parking lot. He waves to a few people walking by, I wave to the ones I know, and the unfamiliar ones give him smiles of approval. They approve of me, that’s always nice.

I don’t know what made me think back to senior year while I was waiting for Link to get out of his last class. So much has happened since then, so many wonderful things I would have never thought I could have, it’s almost funny to think back to that time when I felt so hopeless. It’s like looking back on a different girl, though I know I’m still very much Jamie Smith through and through.

Sometimes I catch myself wondering what he’s still doing with me. He may say the girls at Stanford are boring but they’re probably closer to his league in the intelligence department than I am. I mean, I’m not an idiot in the slightest, but I’m also not ivy-league material and I sometimes have fleeting thoughts that I’m holding him back or dumbing him down. I sometimes wonder if I’m not smart and sophisticated enough for him. Surely there are prettier, wittier and classier girls around him, and I have my occasional evil thought that I’m being selfish for keeping him tied to little old me.

I told you, gaining complete self-esteem is a slow process!

“Link,” I say as we walk up the sidewalk to his dorm building. He still has his arm around me, he’s still walking with a bit of giddiness in his step and the excitement of our impending activity.

He looks down at me with his inquisitive dark eyes.

“What are you doing with me?” I say quietly. “After almost two years, why are you still with me?”

He doesn’t even wait a beat, “Because I’d be lost without you. Don’t go doubting yourself again, James. I love you more every second.”

Relief fills my chest. Even though I know how he feels about me, sometimes I have to have my paranoid self hear it.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers through my hair and into my ear, putting a kiss there.

Then he suddenly breaks off from me, looking playful, and says, “Unless you want me too.”

I laugh and jump across the sidewalk to snag his arm in both of mine. Wrapping them firmly around his, I let my head rest on his shoulder and he in turns lays his head on mine as we continue walking.

I sigh as pleasant contentment floods me, “Much better.”

Thank you all for the swarms of comments! I'm so glad this one was well liked. It's definitely the "happy sappy" story of my brood, a necessary bit of fluff, you know?