AN: This is officially the last chapter; there might be an outtake or two. I'm going to edit the previous chapters. Thank also to all the reviewers, I don't reply to them because most of them are anonymous and it would take an enormous amount of time to search each user name (or at least I think they are user names). But still thank you :)

Nine Years Later

Amy slowly wakes up from her short nap. She immediately checks the crib beside the bed. It was empty. She got up to check if Ian had the baby, when he came in.

"Amy, you should be resting," Ian said as he gently pushed Amy down.

"I wanted to see her," she replied, she raised her arms to get the baby.

"She isn't going anywhere for a long time," Ian said as he sat next to her on the bed.

"It may seem like it now, but in 11 months she will be a year old. After that add a year and she'll be walking and talking. Then she would leave for school, where she will meet boys. And then the next thing you know it she will be graduating from a university. I want her in my arms for as long as I can have her," Amy said as she watched her little Hope sleep.

"I know how you feel," Ian kissed Amy's forehead.

"Don't you think I worry about the same thing?" he whispers with a short laugh.

"The boys, Amy, I have to deal with the boys."

"No, you don't have to deal with them. She does," Amy replied, "I want her to make her own choices—to be adventurous, to be daring, to like her grandmother."

"It's a pity I could never meet her," Ian says as he walks to down to the kitchen. Amy followed after him, with Hope sleeping in her arms. When she reaches the kitchen, she watches Ian bring out a light snack.

"Then again I'm pretty sure I see a part of you in her every day. Don't deny it," he says pointing at her as she was about to open her mouth. She quietly reflected on how well they knew each other.

"I didn't say anything," she replies. Ian walks towards her and says in a low voice, "I know you didn't but you were going to. Come on, Amy. I know you better than that."

He continued to work and she just watched him.

She loved it when in small moments like these; he always seems to mirror her sentiments as well. Being together was easy and simple. Even when they fought it was easy to forgive. There was no denying that they were meant to be together.

In retrospect, they always met but never really became any more than acquaintances. Perhaps they were too young, too different back then. As they aged they went through painful things that made them more them. The graveyard visit and the bicycle lesson—both very mundane things. But that was what made them fit.