“Do you want to go?”

“Do I want to go to London?”

He nods. “Yes. Do you?”

“Obviously.”

“Then we’ll go.”

He takes my hand, and we walk through the park, and for the first time ever, maybe, just maybe, I begin to believe that fairy tales can come true, the kind where the commoner wins the heart of the prince.

And the prince wins the love of the commoner.

All because they make each other uncommonly happy. And that’s what love should do.

Epilogue

Flynn

A few months later

One morning on my way to work, I find an invitation under the door.

It’s from my angel, and when I open it, it puts a fast and easy smile on my face. She’s invited me to a costume party this weekend.

Masquerades, costumes, and a little role play now and then — that’s our thing.

That weekend, I put on the outfit she’s chosen for me. I’m the kissing sailor, and when I find her at the rooftop party, the first order of business is to recreate the iconic photograph of the sailor kissing the nurse. That’s the easiest thing in the world as I bend her back, and kiss her deeply.

Her eyes are glossy when we separate. “That feels like exactly the kind of kiss that will become a famous photo.”

“Every single one with you does,” I tell her.

In the months that follow, we go to many more costume parties and masquerade balls, sometimes attending as movie duos, sometimes wearing only silver or gold masks.

We even find a few fancier fetes, and that’s when we feel as if we’re traveling in time. I don a waistcoat and top hat, and she wears a royal-blue gown. We dance with our Venetian masks on and then slip away to the library where we pretend we’re Angel and Duke again.

* * *

Sometimes, Kevin takes the train into the city and joins us for dinner. One night over Thai food, he says, “Do you know why our last name is Granger?”

“She told me she just liked the name.” Sabrina had said they changed their last name when their mom left.

He laughs, shaking his head.

Sabrina flushes pink as she points to her brother. “Don’t believe him. He makes stuff up.”

I sit back, waiting. “Oh, this is good. Now I have to know.”

“Hermione,” Kevin says with a grin.

I turn to Sabrina. “You named yourself for Hermione from Harry Potter?”

She shrugs happily. “I love Hermione. She’s brilliant and clever, and she stood up for the people she loved. I defy anyone to come up with a better reason to pick a name.”

I can’t argue with her on that.

* * *

A month later, I take her to London as promised. We fly first class, and her eyes are stars when she lies all the way back in the seat on the plane. I like showering her with gifts and experiences, and she’s learned not to be so stubborn in accepting them.