When Miles returned, he was carrying a small gift bag which appeared to be from the boutique jewelers in town. Brea’s face lit up as he handed it to her.
“You didn’t have to get me anything,” she swiftly protested.
“Of course I did,” they sat down together on their leather sofa as Brea opened the bag. “You already gave me my gift.” Miles made a fist, revealing how Brea’s name had recently been tattooed across his fingers.
Brea rummaged through the tissue paper, to find a small black box at the base of the bag. Her heart was racing as she pulled it up to her chest and slowly opened it. In the box was a beautiful golden ring with diamonds set in it to the shape of a perfect bow. It was beautiful. Each precious stone sparkled magically in the sunlight.
“Oh, Miles, it’s perfect,” Brea gushed. It was the ring she’d admired in the window as they’d been walking through town together on one lazy Sunday afternoon.
“The lady at the store said the size should be fine but, if not just pop in and ask for Giselle.”
Brea was only half listening as she slipped the ring onto her left hand. It went nearly all the way to her knuckle but was blocked by the golden band which was already sitting there. Brea extended out her hand and admired her new ring.
“I love it.”
“And I love you,” Miles reached over and cupped her head in his hands, kissing her softly. “Happy one-year anniversary, baby,” he murmured contentedly.
Brea closed her eyes and let the kiss deepen, remembering how a year ago, she and Miles had driven up to Vegas and made a promise to love each other forever. They were done running, done hiding from demons that might not even be chasing them. As man and wife, they made the decision to find a town in California that they both liked and stayed there. And now a whole year had passed and life was better than ever, better than Brea could ever have imagined it would be.
“I was thinking we could go grab dinner at the fish place we like down by the docks,” Miles said when their kiss ended. Brea reached for his recently tattooed fingers, interlocking them with her own. She loved how small her hand felt when she placed it in his. Miles always made her feel so safe, so protected.
“Do you think one day I can call him?” she wondered dreamily. Miles leaned forward to plant a tender kiss upon her forehead.
“One day,” he vaguely promised. Brea gave a wistful smile and started to think about what she’d wear that evening. She didn’t dwell on the topic of her estranged brother any longer. Sylar was back in their hometown. He was leading the Blood Pact and embracing his choice to lead a life of violence and crime. Did he ever spare a thought for Brea the way she did for him? One day when she did eventually make that fateful call and reach out to him, would he welcome it? Or had the divide which erupted between them grown too wide, too impassable?
“Thank you for marrying me,” Miles’ lips grazed against hers as he kissed her one last time before standing up. “I’m going to go and shower.”
Brea felt her heart flutter when she looked up at him. He was still so handsome, so powerful. He could make her feel giddy with just one look.
“No, thank you for marrying me,” she corrected him with a smile as she stood up and taking his hand in hers, began leading him through their apartment towards the plush bathroom which was adjoined to their sumptuous bedroom. Their every movement was bathed in glorious, golden sunshine. It was all perfect, like walking in a dream. Brea had never been happier. She shot Miles a flirtatious look as she entered the bathroom and began removing her shorts and t-shirt. She knew with every reliable beat of her heart that they would always be together.
THE END