Epilogue

The wedding reception was simple—far removed from the glamorous, headline-filling celebrations usually associated with celebrity marriages. There were no excessive sparkling gowns, no towering stages or dazzling pyrotechnics. Instead, there was only a modest hall bathed in warm lights, filled with laughter, prayers, and people who genuinely loved them.

That was exactly how Ailine wanted it.

And, perhaps surprisingly to many, it was how Owen wanted it too.

Congratulations flowed endlessly that day. From Julian, Lisa the doctor, Elliot, Emma, Layla, and countless other friends who had witnessed their journey from afar—and from up close. Messages of happiness flooded television screens and internet portals alike. Even the media, which had once been ruthless toward Ailine’s personal life, seemed united in celebrating her happiness.

The headlines were gentler now.

Ailine Su Marries Dr. Owen Carter—A Love That Survived Time.

After giving a brief statement to the reporters, Ailine finally returned to her seat beside Owen. She looked relaxed, almost blissfully unaware that hundreds of eyes still occasionally stole glances in their direction. Her gown was simple yet elegant, hugging her frame without excess. She leaned her head casually against her husband’s shoulder, as though this were the most natural thing in the world.

Owen allowed it without hesitation. One arm instinctively wrapped around her shoulders, a protective gesture born from old habits—habits that had never truly faded, no matter how many years had passed between them.

“So,” Ailine said lightly while nibbling on a small piece of cake, her voice carefree, unburdened. “When are we going to start talking about my birthday present?”

Owen stiffened immediately.

He turned his head slowly, his gaze filled with unmistakable wariness—the look of a surgeon who sensed danger before the first incision.

“I married you,” he replied flatly. “By your request. I believe that is more than enough.”

Ailine lifted her face and looked at him with that innocent expression that had always been her ultimate weapon. “Not yet.”

Owen exhaled. “Not yet… what exactly? You asked me to marry you, and we are now married.”

“This year, marriage,” Ailine began, counting on her fingers. “Next year, our first child. The year after that, the second child. The year after that—”

“Okay. Stop.” Owen raised his hand quickly, as if trying to stop an imaginary hemorrhage. “You are extremely consistent with your demands, you know that?”

“Of course,” Ailine said proudly. “Because I’m serious about them. Don’t tell me you thought I was joking.”

Owen sighed deeply. “So… you really want twelve children?”

Ailine beamed at him without a shred of guilt. “Yep. A dozen.”

Owen’s face went blank.

Completely blank.

He covered his face with both hands. “God,” he murmured softly. “Please grant me strength… and maybe a very long leave of absence.”

Ailine clicked her tongue. “Why do you look like you’re about to face a disaster? Making babies is fun. We’ll be busy every single day!”

Owen nearly toppled backward.

“Hey! Speak properly!”

“This is very proper,” Ailine replied with a mischievous grin.

Owen mentally surrendered. Ailine was far too reckless for his peace of mind.

A soft laugh came from not far away. Ailine’s parents, seated nearby, watched the scene with amusement. Her mother pressed a hand to her chest, torn between pride and resignation.

“I’m sorry, Owen,” she said gently. “She’s been like that since she was little. Once she wants something, it’s very hard to stop her.”

Owen immediately stood and bowed politely, a reflex far too refined for a newly minted son-in-law. “It’s alright, ma’am. I still have a lot to learn.”

His tone was calm. Sincere.

So sincere that Ailine’s father nodded slowly, his gaze resting on Owen with an expression that felt less like a father-in-law appraising a man—and more like a parent looking at his own child.

And somehow, in that moment, everyone silently agreed on the same thing:

Owen truly looked like part of their family already.

“Sometimes I wonder,” Ailine’s father said, “why you seem to love Owen so openly, without even a hint of pride as a woman.”

Ailine clicked her tongue at him. “Dad, don’t get it wrong. I’m loved too. My love is returned.” She turned toward Owen. “My husband, you love me too, right?”

Owen smiled. Sometimes, Ailine really did whatever she pleased—but that was exactly what made his life feel vibrant, unpredictable, and alive.

“Ailine,” her mother began carefully, “your father and I hope you’ll have children soon. While we’re still young enough to help. You have no intention of quitting your career as an artist, and Owen has no plans to stop being a surgeon. If you have children early, we won’t worry so much about the future of Su Group.”

She hesitated, then added, “It may sound unpleasant, but this is simply reality. Su Group needs an heir. You’re our only child, and you chose to remain in the public eye. As parents, our hopes naturally rest on your children. We can work for another twenty years—but after that…”

It was an undeniable truth.

The reality of a conglomerate family.

“Mom, Dad,” Ailine said calmly, “Owen and I have discussed this thoroughly. We don’t see it as a problem.”

“It may be heavy for our child,” Owen added, “but we’ll introduce business with love.”

“And if our first child doesn’t like business,” Ailine said cheerfully, turning to Owen, “we’ll still have eleven more. Surely one of them will inherit Grandpa and Grandma’s talent for business. Right, Owen?”

Was she serious about the twelve children?

Owen could only nod. “Yes, Father. Mother.”

“And we’ve already had our check-ups,” Ailine added casually. “We’re perfectly healthy. I’m in my fertile window, so tonight we can start right away.”

Owen’s eyes widened.

Ailine stuck her tongue out at him, utterly shameless.

“I’m curious,” she teased. “Will you be strong enough tonight?”

And—damn it—Owen finally retaliated.

“H-Huh?” The superstar blushed crimson.

The entire table burst into laughter.

Ailine truly had no fear.

---

As night fell and the hall gradually emptied, Owen returned to sit beside Ailine once more. He took her hand, his thumb gently brushing over the back of it—a small gesture, born of familiarity and habit.

“Are you happy?” he asked softly.

Ailine turned to him and studied his face for a long moment, as though weighing the most honest answer she had ever given. Then she smiled—not the smile she wore on stage, not the smile for cameras—but the smile Owen remembered from years ago.

“I’m safe,” she said quietly. “And I’m loved by the man who was my first love.”

She squeezed his hand. “That’s more than enough for me.”

Owen lowered his head until his forehead nearly touched her hair. His voice dropped into a whisper.

“If one day the world becomes noisy again… if the spotlight returns, if gossip resurfaces, or life suddenly turns chaotic…” He paused, then continued, “We’ll still go home together.”

Ailine nodded without hesitation. “You are my home.”

Because in the end, their love was not born from a perfect new beginning—but from a broken past, unfinished goodbyes, and the courage to choose each other again.

Amid flashing cameras, wounds that had nearly claimed lives, and a world that had once pulled them apart—

They did not seek an extraordinary story.

They chose the simplest thing.

And the hardest.

To stay.

They once lost each other for years—

and chose never to lose each other again, not even for a single day.

This time, they did not let go.