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They say at the end of your life, everything flashes before your eyes.
Every moment that’s ever mattered replays, strung together like frames of film.
If that’s true… Belly is certain this will be one of them.
The words I love you have barely escaped her lips before Conrad is kissing her, sealing their confession with a kiss they both know they'll never forget.
And for once, it isn’t scary.
Nothing feels impossible.
It feels like coming home.
After being away for a long, long time.
When Conrad draws back, it’s slow, like he’s reluctant to leave any space between them. His hands rise instinctively to frame her face, cradling it with a tenderness that makes her breath hitch. He opens his mouth, searching for the right thing to say and Belly holds her breath, waiting.
But nothing seems big enough for this moment.
Nothing comes.
They simply stare at each other, breathless, a little stunned. It’s the first time they’ve ever said it.
Out loud. To each other.
I love you.
The spell only breaks when a passenger behind them clears their throat, trying to squeeze past in the narrow train aisle.
Conrad huffs out a quiet, incredulous laugh under his breath and gently pulls Belly down into a seat beside him. For a moment they just sit in it, the dizzy aftermath, the train rattling beneath their feet, dazed by everything that’s just happened.
Belly’s gaze falls on where his hands have found hers again.
The same hands that once steadied her while she wobbled on a bike down the Cousins driveway. The same hands that used to come back from the beach holding shells and bits of sea glass, treasures he’d saved just for her. The same hands that had brushed against the infinity necklace at her throat moments ago, like he was breathing life back into something she’d once believed they'd lost forever.
Something inside Belly shifts, as if a piece of her heart that had been missing for so long has finally clicked back into place. As if his touch, his presence, was the very thing she’d been searching for in every street and corner of Paris. As if the way he kissed her had somehow gathered all her broken, scattered pieces and made her whole again.
Not because he saved her.
Not because he felt sorry for her.
But because he helped her remember who she truly was and that girl had always been someone worth loving.
Belly lifts her gaze from their hands to meet his and what she finds there is the same vulnerability reflected back, a faint redness around his eyes, a shine still lingering. Proof that he cared. Proof that he’d been crying long before she ever stepped onto the train.
It takes her back to that night on the beach when she last saw him cry. The night of her bachelorette.
Her heart squeezes.
She hates her past self for hurting him. He has every right to hate her.
And yet… here he is, thumbs tracing over her hands, comforting her, choosing her even when she’s at her most vulnerable.
Tears pool in her eyes.
How had she ever doubted this?
How had she spent so long trying to deny and forget what had always been true?
For years they had drifted apart like islands, separated by distance, pride, and all the things they left unsaid. But in less than a single day, Conrad had patiently crossed those waters, weathering wave after wave, dismantling every single wall she’d ever built around herself to stay safe. And at last, they were finally standing on the same shore.
Finally moving in the same direction. On the same train. On the same page.
No more crossed wires. No more lies. No more running.
A year ago, this would have all terrified Belly. But the person she is now has weathered storms of her own. So, she gathers this fragile, hard-won courage to say the words she’s carried since that night on the beach, the night of her bachelorette, the night she broke his heart:
“I’m sorry.”
She chokes on them. They come out smaller than she means them to. Honestly, she’s not sure there are words that hold the weight of how sorry she is for that summer.
Conrad’s eyes flicker, already glassy.
It’s the last thing he ever expected her to say.
Belly tries to steady herself, but the tears come anyway, slipping down her cheeks and into the corners of her mouth. And somehow… even through the tears, the apology still doesn’t feel big enough.
“I… I shouldn’t have sent you away like that.” She shakes her head, tasting the salt of her tears. “I’m so sorry, Conrad.”
He closes his eyes for a moment, the memory of her pushing him away after being intimate still fresh enough to sting.
“Belly.”
“You want to know why it took me so long to write you back?” Her voice trembles, breaking a little.
When he opens his eyes, they’re locked on her.
“Because no letter could ever be enough… to hold how sorry I am.”
Tears start to form in his eyes.
“I knew… that if I opened that door with you, there's no going back.” Belly goes on, voice wavering. “So, I ran. Not just from the wedding. But from your letters. I told myself it was about not hurting anyone else, but the truth is… I was scared. Scared of how much I feel. How much I still care.”
She inhales shakily. “That’s why it seemed easier to try and fix things with Jere first… I meant what I said on the beach: that you’ll never be what Jere is to me.” More tears spill over. “Because, Conrad… you’ve always meant more. You always will.”
Conrad swallows hard, still holding her hands.
She lets out a shaky laugh, the sound breaking on the way out. “It’s kind of pathetic, isn’t it? I turned into the exact person I was so angry at you for being at prom. I pushed you away and hid the truth like that somehow made it better.” Her gaze drops, shoulders folding in on themselves. “I think… that’s why I kept pulling back today. Every time I looked at you, all I could think was… after everything, how could I possibly deserve him?” Her voice falters. “How could he still want me? He deserves so much better.” Her voice dies on the last sentence.
“Belly…” His voice is barely above a whisper, thick with emotion as his hands close more firmly around hers.
Tears slide down his cheeks as Conrad processes, finally understanding the distance she’s kept between them, finally seeing the full shape of the guilt she’s been carrying. Every instinct in him wants to free them both from it, but he knows the only way out is through, no matter how hard it is. He decides to come clean and meet her where she’s at.
“I’m sorry, too.” His voice is hoarse. “For that summer… for everything. God, Belly… I could write a hundred letters and it still wouldn’t be enough to say how sorry I am for all the ways I’ve hurt you. I get it… I really do.”
She shakes her head, freeing one hand to swipe at her tears. “What do you have to be sorry for?” She huffs but there is nothing funny about it. “I’m the one who messed it all up.”
“Hey, don’t do that.” Conrad gently catches her hand before she can pull away, holding it between both of his. She finally meets his gaze, and he lets out a shaky breath. “Don’t you dare take all the blame. I mean… I’m the guy who confessed his love to his brother’s fiancée the weekend she was supposed to marry him.”
A soft, tearful laugh escapes her, trembling on the edge of pain and relief. “And I’m the girl who almost married him… knowing I’d always love his brother more.”
She watches her words wash over him. Conrad exhales slowly, trying to steady himself.
His smile is small, sad, almost trembling, eyes glistening.
“What a pair we make, huh?” is all that comes out.
They’re both crying now.
Belly half-laughs, half-cries at his attempt at humor, looking away as she wraps her arms around herself, making herself smaller. “The worst.” She whispers, but even in the sting of that summer, there’s a tenderness now, something shared, something finally released.
Conrad watches her curl inward, wanting to fix it, to make it all right. What he said earlier about letting go of old promises… he meant it.
Gently, he reaches forward, cupping her chin and slowly guiding her face back toward his.
Her heart stutters when their eyes meet.
She’s not the only one who’s changed.
The Conrad looking at her now is not the one from prom. Or the funeral. Or the motel.
No, this one… is someone who knows to stay. How to fight for what he wants.
And maybe… she can finally be that person, too?
The girl who doesn’t pull away. The one who stays.
The person she wishes she’d been at prom, at the funeral, in every moment they ever got wrong.
Was this the universe, handing them another beginning?
Was this the version of them they were always meant to be?
Conrad takes a breath, letting the moment stretch. Both of his hands frame her face now, his thumbs brushing beneath her eyes, brushing away the dampness there.
“Love is messy, Belly.” He finally murmurs. His thumbs sweep gently across her cheeks as if he’s having the same realizations. “But I’ll take every bit of the mess… if it means I get you.”
A flicker of fear rises behind her tears. “But… what if… what happens when you go back and realize-”
“Isabel.”
He cuts her off gently but firmly, shaking his head before she can finish. “There’s no going back, love.” He holds her gaze, steady, certain, impossible to look away from.
For a long, heart-stopping moment, he simply holds her gaze. No half-spoken words. No doubts. Just truth.
“I want to be with you...” His thumb traces the line of her jaw. “Do you want to be with me?”
Tears glint in her eyes and she doesn’t need words. Her nod says it all.
Of course she does. It's all she's ever wanted, if she's being really honest.
“Then be with me.” He breathes, the same words he said that summer on the beach. “We don’t have to have it all figured out. Not right now. Just… hold my hand and be with me… on this train.” He tucks a stand of hair behind her ear. “Can you do that?”
Belly nods again.
Conrad exhales, nodding, relieved.
Her lips tremble into a small, wobbly smile as she feels a need to suddenly close the distance.
“Can I… hug you?”
A soft laugh escapes him, the corners of his mouth lifting. “Belly, we just spent hours wrapped around each other. I think we’re past asking, sweetheart.”
She folds into him without another word, pressing her cheek against his chest. His arms come around her as though they were made for this. One hand spreads across her back, reassuring while her fingers clutch the fabric of his shirt, knuckles tight. They both let themselves feel it: this impossibly real, perfect moment of being back together.
She feels his chest shake with a soft laugh and she tilts her face to look up at him, feeling the warmth of him in every breath.
“What?” Belly whispers, smiling at the simple joy in his eyes.
“Nothing…” He tries to fight it, but the curve of his mouth gives him away. “I just… I can’t believe you got on a train for me.” He teases.
A laugh comes from her, the first real one she's felt in hours. “Yeah… I did do that, didn’t I?”
Conrad smiles down at her, eyes soft. “You did.”
And I'd do it again, her eyes whisper.
Conrad holds her gaze then reaches for the infinity necklace resting against her collarbone, fingers tracing it with awe. It’s awhile before he speaks again.
“I can’t believe you kept this.” He whispers, sounding as young as he had when he asked her to dance at the Seine.
Belly smiles, lifting a hand to his cheek, warm and tender. “How could I ever throw such a gift away?”
How could I ever give my heart to someone else, when it knew yours first?
Conrad exhales, then he leans in. Every brush of his lips feels like something more, a vow, a memory reclaimed, a love finally found again. And Belly feels it, like a wild and beautiful thing in her chest: every promise, every tear, every year spent apart somehow had led them here.
His past words echo in her mind: It was worth it to me… loving you, being with you. It was all worth it.
A sob catches in her throat as she kisses him, tears slipping between them. Conrad only holds her tighter.
And this time, she doesn’t see the younger version of him running away from her in the sand.
Instead, he’s turning back to her, offering his hand, and she takes it as they run toward forever.
Somewhere, Again by Doris Day crackles from a record player as Conrad and Belly dance under the stars in Brussels, dreaming aloud about their future.
Again
This couldn't happen again
This is that once in a lifetime
This is the thrill divine
What's more
This never happened before
Though I have prayed for a lifetime
That such as you would suddenly be mine
Mine to hold as I'm holding you now and yet
Never so near
Mine to have when the now and the here disappear
What matters, dear?
For when
This doesn't happen again
We'll have this moment forever
But never, never again
We'll have this moment forever
But never, never again
(Never, never)
They say at the end of your life, everything flashes before your eyes.
Every moment that’s ever mattered replays, strung together like frames of film.
If that’s true… Belly is certain this will be one of them.
And she wants every top moment she has left to be with him, to stack up like letters, each one stamped with his love.