Ten years later
You know my big Oscar moment? It came.
All right, it was an Emmy, not an Oscar, but they’re practically the same darn thing. And right before I went to receive the award, the cameras zoomed in on me and I kissed the man sitting next to me—my husband: the finest, kindest, sexiest, most supportive, loving man in the whole wide world.
The man who gave me the courage to pursue my dreams again. The man who helped me deal with my deepest fears and become brave. The man who is the father of my three beautiful daughters (sadly, none of them take after him. They’re all screwballs like me).
Henry Stone.
He releases my hand now, tears shimmering in his eyes. Reaching for a handkerchief, he joins the rest of the crowd in applauding me as I make my way to the stage to receive the award.
From up here, the crowd looks distant. Only Henry stands out. He’s aged so magnificently…I fall more in love with him every day. My mouth still splits into a smile every time I hear his laughter, and his touch makes me feel protected, not afraid. I still try to make him breakfast and sniff his hair every morning.
Also, I’m up to differential calculus now. I can give him a run for his money when it comes to math.
As to what happened to Lucien…he’s as precocious as ever, except he’s no longer in elementary school. He’s in pre-med (he ended up going into the family trade), and planning to help Emilia out with the hospital after he becomes a doctor. As I predicted, he’s turned into a ladies’ man. I meet him frequently, and he still teases me about my stupidity and poor domestic skills. My daughters adore him, too (no surprise there).
Seven years ago, I became aunt to Coop and Ji-ae’s son, Guk. After Ji-ae’s unsuccessful attempts at IVF, they finally threw in the towel and adopted him. He’s the cutest nephew I could have wished for, and thanks to Ji-ae’s cooking, he’s already overweight.
Things have come full circle for me. From the depths of discouragement, I’ve reached the pinnacle I aspired to.
And today, as I cradle this Emmy Award in my hands, I realize how much better my life is compared to the juvenile fantasy I once conjured up at the back of a dark auditorium.
