Epilogue
PEN
ONE MONTH LATER
W ith Oma, Wren, Elora, and Indie in tow, we navigated the streets of Wintervale, barely making it to our appointment at Dress Me Up on time. My heart skips a beat as I walk into the shop for the second time as a bride to be, but this time feels so much different.
It feels right.
Lake and I will be getting married at the lodge before it’s busy season at the tree farm and we start the winter prep for the sanctuary.
Bustling inside, we’re greeted by Blossom who passes the group off to January to get settled then brings me straight to the changing room. “What are you?—”
My words are cut off when she draws back the curtain, revealing the dress I’d fallen in love with when I’d been here with Carter’s mother.
The dress that I’d looked for in a moment of weakness after being dubbed the runaway bride.
“I pulled it from the floor after you left that day,” Blossom says softly. “January about killed me every time she ran into it in the back room, but”—she smiles wistfully at the dress—“it was made for you and I knew in my heart you’d be back.”
“I…I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything.” She grins, her long dark hair falling in loose curls down her back. “Just try it on and go wow them.”
Hands shaking, I draw the curtain shut and pile my clothes on the chair in the corner and take a breath because this is it.
Carefully removing it from the hanger, I step into the formfitting dress, the lace detailing exquisite as it hugs my body, the flowers duplicated on the sheer sleeves making it perfect for the colder weather in Montana.
“It’s perfect, right?” Blossom says with unabashed enthusiasm as I open the curtain and turn, letting her zip up the back as she squeals. Her reaction is exactly how I feel on the inside, my smile stretching across my face as she grabs the train of the dress and helps me into the main room.
Wren gasps, Indie sobs into a tissue, and Elora grabs Oma’s hand as I step onto the platform and face the wall of mirrors. There’s not a dry eye in the place—even January wipes a tear from her cheek, her expression annoyed like she didn’t mean to show so much emotion.
“Hell, I’d marry you in that,” Wren deadpans, earning a laugh from everyone in the room.
“You think he’ll like it?” I ask, smoothing my hands down the front.
“My son will be a blubbering mess,” Elora says, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. “He gets it from me.”
“Oma?”
“It’s perfect,” my grandmother says, standing from her seat and taking the veil from Blossom’s outstretched hand. With great care, she gently slides the comb into my hair to secure it before meeting my gaze in the mirror. “Your grandaddy and I would like to pay for your dress. He always told me I looked beautiful, but I remember the way his eyes lit up seeing me walking down the aisle. It wasn’t fancy, but he made me feel like time stopped when he looked at me.”
“Oma.” I can barely choke back the emotions, the words meaning so much more than I could have ever expected.
“He believed in a forever kind of love and that’s the love you’ve found. Not everyone is so lucky to fall in love with their best friend, but I’ve always said there hasn’t been a minute since the two of you met that Lake hasn’t loved you.”
“Elora,” Blossom hisses, “let me have one of those tissues.”
“Waterproof makeup for everyone ,” Wren adds, a hiccup punctuating the sentiment.
“Thank you,” I tell my grandmother, hugging her tight and thanking the universe for giving me the strength to break ties with my past so I could have this future—the one filled with love and family and evermore.
Because Lake was right, forever will never be enough.
The love we have is evermore.
THE END