She has a choice now. Freedom, autonomy, agency, the possibility of a life outside her house. Bud-David, she corrected herself, had opened up a world beyond what any of them ever could have imagined. Beyond Main Street, beyond oatmeal cookies and aprons and holding hands and honey, I'm home. Colors, lights, smiles-real smiles, born from a place of true happiness.
George understands, too, after fighting it for so long, and it's now that she realizes how much she truly loves him. Memories of their courtship are more vivid now; the color of the sky when they first met, how warm their first kiss felt, her heart fluttering as the preacher pronounced them man and wife, the proud look on his face when he held Mary Sue for the first time.
But she loves Bill, too. Bill, with his passionate artist's soul, showing her it was okay to be herself, painting what he saw beneath her starched dress and overcoat and high heels. Perhaps they've always had this feeling for one another, David was just the one who unlocked it.
A choice should be more agonizing for her, but right now, she just wants to love both these men as fully as she can, now that she knows how deep love can run. And she sees the way George and Bill smile at one another in understanding.
"I'd like to get to know you," George says. "Beyond the burgers and fries."
Bill smiles, taking his hand. Not shaking it, just holding it, his gaze lingering.
"I'd like that, too."
They turn to Betty, holding their free hands out to her, and she takes them.
Once upon a time, things wrapped up within twenty minutes and everything was fine. But now, the story, their journey, is just beginning. None of them know where the winding roads outside Main Street will lead them, but it's okay. They'll see every step of their journey through together.