A.N - Okay, this is really the end now. Though, if you didn't want an Epilogue, completely disregard this update, and use last chapter as the ending. I think they both work well enough.

Thank you to everybody who reviewed last chapter (35 reviews!) and to those who've reviewed throughout. You know who you are.

And, look out for my next story : Sheriff De Silva in the Wild West. Hesitantly titled Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang.

Should be fun. xD

In conclusion, English literature has taken many forms over the years, from the world-famous works of William Shakespeare (to whom this author is forever indebted to because, without Shakespeare, we would never have gotten to see Leonardo DiCaprio perform so well in Romeo and Juliet) to the romantic classics such as 'Pride and Prejudice' and 'Jane Eyre'. It is the development of English Literature, however, that brought us the novels which we all secretly love to curl up on the sofa and read for a night. At least this author does.

European Literature

An Essay by Susannah Simon


Eighteen Months Later

"Querida?" Jesse called to me from our kitchen. Yes, our kitchen. "Where do you want to put these glasses?"

"Second cupboard from the right!" I called back to him as I stood and looked around our living room.

I'd never get tired of those words. I felt so grown up when I said them. The past four years I'd been in college, sure, but I'd also been relying on my mom and Andy for so long. When I finally graduated three months ago in June, I moved into Jesse's apartment, finally feeling like I was independent.

Now, we'd bought our own house. Well, we were in the process of buying it, at least.

I felt two strong arms wrap around my waist and a pair of lips kiss my shoulder.

"Don't forget that my cousin is coming to the house warming party." Jesse reminded me deeply.

I cringed.

I don't think Maria had ever actually forgiven me for being the cause of her embarrassment those months ago. She says that she's fine with it, that she could see how much more in love with me Jesse was even then, but I know that she means that she hates me.

She recovered from it well enough, marrying Diego in August of last year, but Maria still despises me for the amount of money I'd made her lose out on.

Which was another thing. By looking at our house, you'd never believe that I was engaged to a man of wealth. Jesse lived quite modestly. He mainly just spent what he earned from being a journalist.

"I know." I replied to my fiancé. "And I'll be on my best behaviour."

"You better be," he joked, kissing my nose quickly. "Else I'll take that ring back. I can't have you being mean to my family!"

I clutched my left hand in my right, keeping my engagement ring away from the long fingers that threatened to steal it.

"Hey!" I complained. "It's not like I don't try to be nice. She's the one who hates me."

Jesse chuckled.

"Well you did take away all of her money." He reminded me.

I rolled my eyes. As if I could forget.

"I just wish my father had realised that a little bit sooner." He added quietly.

Jesse's father had stayed true to his threat, cutting Jesse off from his family the second that he ran out of the church to find me. They hadn't talked for a year and a half now, give or take a few months. The house warming party tomorrow was a reunion of-sorts for the both of them. His sisters had refused to not see Jesse from the very beginning.

"You never actually told me, you know." I cuddled up to his side after he'd led me to the sofa and sat down.

"Told you what?" He asked, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and kissing my temple.

"Why you ran after me." I kept my gaze solely on the many boxes we had yet to unpack. "Why you didn't actually marry Maria."

"I just couldn't." He replied quietly, his mind a year away. "The music started, the congregation stood up and the doors opened, revealing Maria to my gaze. And all I could see was you - you calling me a coward." He smiled slightly at the memory. "Maria came charging down the aisle towards me, a smirk that could only be described as malicious on her face, and I wished it was you. That it was you I was marrying.

"So, I left." He concluded. "She looked up at me, a glint in eyes that were the wrong colour. Muddy brown instead of emerald green." I blushed. "And I left that church and drove to you as fast as I could."

"I'm glad you did." I smiled, closing my eyes as he brought his lips down over mine.

"I'm glad I did too." He told me.

We sat in silence for a moment, thinking about that day.

"If I hadn't," he continued. "I'd have been divorced at twenty four." A look of horror settled on his face as he shuddered visibly. "Perish the thought!"

"Uh-huh." I joined in. "And if you hadn't come after me, chances are I would have been going out with Paul by now. Possibly his fiancée, instead of yours."

I grinned as I felt Jesse's grip around me tighten.

"I'm glad I did." He repeated.

Even now, Jesse and Paul were not on very good speaking terms. Paul had been forever insistent that I'd made the wrong choice in going back to Jesse, and Jesse had been adamant that Paul Slater was the reason why we hadn't worked in the first place, and that he was just looking for an excuse to split us up.

I don't think I'd ever seen Jesse more relieved then I had the day that I told him Paul was engaged to someone else.

"Come on, querida." Jesse pulled me off the sofa with him. "Let's get unpacking. We've got a party to prepare for tomorrow."

"As well as a wedding to prepare for at the end of the month." I added.

"Ah, how could I forget?" He smiled at me.

I pressed my lips to his.

"As long as you don't forget again, I'll let it slide." I told him.

"I love you, Susannah 'soon-to-be-De-Silva' Simon." He whispered.

"I love you too." I replied, leaning into his embrace as his arms wrapped around my waist. "You know I do."

"Yes." He admitted. "And I'll never forget it."

Then he whispered those three words. The words I longed to hear, despite the fact that I did hear them every day. The words that filled me with a thrill, even more so than when he says them in English.

"Te Amo, Querida."

And of course, I had to tell him back.

"Te Amo, Querido."