Late at night, on the outskirts of New York City.
In the hazy glow of dim streetlights, Luke and Taylor strolled side by side down a quiet wooded path.
This was the same forest trail where Luke and Annie had filmed The Lake House. Taylor had always wanted to come here and take a walk with him.
But ever since the short film went viral, the place had become a popular tourist spot. During the day, it was packed with visitors.
So Luke and Taylor chose to come at night, when it was quiet and empty.
Considering how New York's suburbs could be after dark, it definitely took a fair amount of courage—and confidence—to wander around here.
Still, for Luke, it wasn't a problem. The forest scenery, softened by night, carried its own kind of charm.
It was springtime. The plum blossoms had already fallen, but pear blossoms, purple hyacinths, and pink peach blossoms were in full bloom, painting the trail in waves of color.
A gentle night breeze rustled through, carrying the scent of flowers. Petals danced in the air or drifted softly underfoot, their fragrance sweet and intoxicating.
Tall trees lined both sides of the path, their branches weaving together to form a natural green wall—shielding the sea of blossoms and adding to the serene atmosphere.
"Tap, tap, tap—"
In the stillness of the night, the sound of Taylor's high heels was unusually crisp, like the beating of a young girl's heart.
Luke glanced at her—Taylor, now nearly 5'11", had truly grown up. With those heels, her eyes were level with his.
She looked stunning tonight: a long, snow-white dress that made her look like a blooming lily—pure, graceful, elegant. The skirt swayed lightly with every step.
The fabric was soft and delicate, almost like moonlight wrapping around her figure, giving her a quiet, gentle beauty. The cut of the dress was perfect—not too tight, not too loose—just enough to outline her graceful shape.
"Hold on, my feet hurt a little," Taylor said softly.
"You shouldn't have worn heels for a walk," Luke said with a small smile.
"That's because I wanted to look nice. I even wore my favorite dress tonight."
Luke couldn't help thinking about an old saying: when a girl likes a guy, she wears heels on a date. That way, she has a reason to let him hold her hand… or carry her if she gets tired.
If she doesn't like the guy? She'd wear sneakers—if she'd even go out with him at all.
Come on, girls don't just casually go through the hassle of washing their hair and dressing up for someone they don't care about.
Thinking of the "mutual support" contract Taylor had given him, Luke sighed quietly.
"Are your feet hurting badly? Want me to carry you?" he asked.
To his surprise, Taylor shook her head. "No. It was my idea to come here, so I'll walk. It's not that bad."
Yup, that was Taylor—smart, independent, and impossible to read sometimes.
Unlike Gakki, the adorably clueless type, Taylor was a sharp, thoughtful girl—clever to the core.
She never hesitated to express her affection for Luke, but he had learned not to flirt too boldly with her—he didn't want to risk ending up as the "bad guy" in one of her songs.
Of course, he trusted she wouldn't actually do that to him. Still, he preferred to treat her feelings seriously.
"Alright," Luke said. "Then we'll just walk slower."
Taylor nodded, and they continued down the path together.
"This trail's just as beautiful as I imagined," she said. "By the way, I've already started working on my second album."
"Already? Didn't your first one just come out?" Luke asked curiously.
He remembered that her second album would be Fearless—full of youthful energy and fearless emotion, with hits like Love Story and You Belong With Me.
Those songs became so huge that people practically got tired of hearing them—which only proved how wildly successful the album was.
"I just want to earn more money," Taylor said seriously. "Most of the funds in our foundation came from you."
"It's fine," Luke replied. "You don't have to keep score."
"That's easy for you to say. If most of the money came from me, you'd feel uneasy too."
The foundation was meant to secure Luke's living expenses and support Taylor's future music career—something that tied their lives together tightly.
At first, Taylor saw it as a way to repay him. Now it felt more like she was the one benefiting, and that bothered her.
Really, though, it wasn't her fault—Luke was just too good at making money.
"So," Luke said with a teasing smile, "what will your future boyfriend or husband think about this foundation?"
Taylor muttered under her breath, "Why don't you ask yourself that?"
"Huh? What did you say?"
"I said, who cares!" Taylor suddenly raised her voice. "I don't even want to date anyone! I'm married to music. Just walk beside me and don't let me feel too lonely."
"I will," Luke said softly. "I'll stay with you."
Hearing that, Taylor reached out her left hand.
"Hm?" Luke blinked.
"If we're going to walk through life together," she said, "let's start now."
He smiled and took her hand naturally.
Her hand was larger than most girls', fitting for her height—but it was surprisingly soft.
Her long, slender fingers intertwined gently with his, warm and smooth like willow branches in spring.
Taylor avoided his gaze, looking straight ahead as she spoke, her voice calm but her cheeks faintly flushed.
"When I write songs or work on my albums," she said, "the guy I picture in my head is always you."
"I can tell," Luke replied. "The lyrics to Our Song feel… really personal."
> In the front seat of his car,
> He's got one hand on the steering wheel,
> The other on my heart.
> I was just thinking how we don't have a song.
> Our song is the way you laugh.
> The first date—'Man, I didn't kiss her, and I should have.'
> And when I got home, before I said amen,
> I asked God if He could play it again.
That track from her debut album captured the innocence of young love—shy, sweet, and cautious.
Our Song really was their song—Luke and Taylor's.
(Highly recommended, by the way—check out the music video. Taylor's golden hair, doll-like beauty, and that pure country charm make it unforgettable.)
Luke could easily imagine her writing those lyrics while picturing him as the boy in the story.
Not her boyfriend, not even her ex—yet somehow, he'd already become part of her music.
"My point is," Taylor added, "you're also the inspiration for several new songs."
"I'm honored," Luke said.
"And for the music video," she continued, "you'll play the male lead. I've already written the script."
"Sure," he said.
"There's a kissing scene."
At last, Taylor had found her perfect excuse to bend the rules a little.