Epilogue
IVY
The sun’s slipping down behind the trees, casting long shadows across the yard as I settle into the porch swing.
I inhale deeply, letting the crisp autumn air fill my lungs, the scent of wood smoke and pine mingling in the breeze. The kind of air that settles into your bones, making everything feel quieter, slower, like time’s moving at a pace I can actually follow for once.
The babies are finally asleep inside, the house eerily quiet in the best way possible. Mia, Lucy, and Max are all tucked in for the night, their tiny little bodies a world away from the chaos of the past few weeks.
I watch the world outside shift from daylight to twilight, the colors of the sky bleeding into the trees, and I just… breathe.
Pickle’s at my feet, his lazy snore the only sound besides the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. I reach down to scratch behind his ears, my mind wandering to places I don’t usually let it go. This life. This home.
It belongs to me now, and I’m not sure when that changed.
But I think I’m starting to realize it’s been changing for a while.
The soft purr of an engine reaches my ears just as a car swings into my driveway. My heart sings as Olivia steps out of the car, hauling a huge bag out of her back seat.
“Hey, stranger,” I say, leaning back in the swing.
“Ivy,” she breathes, her voice smaller than usual, like it’s holding back more than she’s letting on. “I’m so sorry I’m late. Thank you so much for letting me stay here, even on your big weekend. Everything just… exploded at work. I feel like I’m barely keeping it together.”
I frown, immediately sitting up straighter. “Olivia,” I say softly, “you sound like you’re about to crumble. What’s going on?”
There’s a long pause before she finally speaks again, her voice edged with exhaustion as she trudges onto my porch.
She slumps into the chair next to me, her entire body sagging.
“I don’t know. I feel like I’m doing everything I can and it’s just…
not enough. I’m burned out, Ivy. I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore.
It’s like I’m just treading water, trying not to sink.
And I’m sorry for bringing this bad mood into your wedding weekend, but I can’t escape it. ”
The words hit me harder than I expected. I know this feeling, all too well. The weight of the world pushing down on you, your shoulders aching from carrying too much, your chest tight from trying to breathe through it all.
“I get it,” I say quietly, rubbing my hand across my forehead. “I really do. You’ve been burning the candle at both ends for so long, it’s no wonder you’re feeling like this.”
She lets out a long sigh, a sound full of frustration and hopelessness. “I don’t even know where to start to fix it, Ivy. Everything’s… it’s just all too much.”
I pause for a moment, considering her words. Then the most obvious solution in the world hits me.
“You need to move here. Seriously.” I say it without hesitation, the words tumbling out as if they were waiting to be said. “Coyote Glen. You need a break, Liv. And you need to come see me. For more than just a weekend.”
She’s quiet for a moment, probably processing what I’ve just said. “What, like… for how long?”
“Not forever. Just long enough to catch your breath. You’ve been running yourself into the ground.
You need some space, some time where you’re not constantly on the clock.
I’m serious, Liv. Come stay with me. You can help with the babies, or just kick back and do nothing.
I don’t care. But you need to step away. For you.”
Another long silence. And then, finally, her voice breaks through, softer this time. “I think… I think I need that. I think you’re right.”
I smile, feeling a weight lift off my chest. “Then it’s settled. You stay here, we’ll get you some real rest. And you’ll get to help with Mia, Lucy, and Max. They’ll keep you busy.”
Olivia chuckles softly, the sound music to my ears. “Okay. Okay, I’m in. I’ll look at my schedule. See what I can sort out.”
“Perfect. And when you stay here,” I add with a grin, “I’m putting you to work. I need someone to chase after Pickle, and I’m sure you’ll be great at it.”
“Ugh. I don’t even know what to say. I feel like I’ve been drowning for so long and I didn’t even know I needed a lifeline.”
“You’ve got one now,” I say softly. “And I’ll be here, every step of the way.”
There’s another brief pause, and then Olivia’s voice is warmer, softer, like a weight’s been lifted. “I’m so thankful for your. Oh, and by the way… congratulations, Ivy. You deserve all the happiness in the world, and I’m so happy for you.”
I feel a lump form in my throat, and I swallow it down, blinking back the unexpected tears. “Thank you, Liv. It means a lot to me that you’re here for it, even if it’s causing problems at work to be here this weekend.”
“You’ve got a beautiful life ahead of you, Ivy. And I think it’s only going to get better from here.”
I smile to myself, the warmth of her words wrapping around me in a hug. “Yeah, I think so too.”
The sun’s dipping low, casting everything in that golden haze that makes you think you’ve wandered into some cheesy romance movie.
The air’s crisp, as if it’s been inhaling pine trees and freshly fallen leaves for weeks.
If there’s anything I’ve learned in my time here, it’s that Coyote Glen sure knows how to make a moment look picture perfect, even if it’s only on the outside.
I stand at the edge of the yard, my fingers curling around the stem of a glass that’s mostly filled with the tiniest sip of something strong.
I don’t know why I’m holding onto it so tightly.
Maybe it’s the anxiety that’s taken permanent residence in my chest. Maybe it’s the fact that this whole day is still kind of surreal.
But, damn, this is real.
The wedding is small, the way I always wanted. No huge ceremony, no frills, no bridal party drama. Just us. Our little chaotic, mismatched, and occasionally dysfunctional family. And somehow, in the middle of all this madness, it feels exactly right.
I glance over at the babies, who are peacefully napping in a playpen, because why wouldn’t they? Mia, Lucy, and Max are the picture of perfection, and I still can't quite wrap my head around the fact that they’re mine. That they’re ours.
Penny’s running around the yard, tossing flower petals in the air like she’s at some fancy garden party, not at her mom’s wedding.
She looks up at me, that mischievous grin of hers lighting up her face, and I feel a tug in my chest. That girl.
.. I’ve always known she was something special.
She’s going to change the world, and none of us will be able to stop her.
The men are close by, all of them standing tall.
They don’t have to say it, but I can feel it.
Timothy’s the steady one, the calm in the storm.
Mitchell’s the quiet intensity that has me questioning everything I thought I knew about myself.
And Freddie… well, Freddie’s the one who never lets me take life too seriously, even when everything’s falling apart.
I can’t stop staring at them. My heart’s doing that weird flutter thing that it’s been doing since the moment we all decided to make this… whatever this is. It’s not normal, it’s not what anyone would’ve expected, but damn, it’s ours.
I can’t help but smirk to myself as I take my place beside Timothy.
This wedding? It’s not what I’d imagined.
Hell, I never even imagined a wedding. But here we are, standing in front of all our friends and family, most of whom are still trying to wrap their heads around the fact that I somehow ended up with three men, and it’s perfect.
The officiant’s voice breaks through my thoughts, and I realize it’s time. It’s time for me to make promises. Not to just one of them. But to all three.
“I didn’t think this was going to be my life,” I start, the words feeling strange on my tongue. But they’re true. “I didn’t think I was going to be here, like this. With all of you. And for a while, I wasn’t sure I even wanted to be.”
The crowd’s quiet, probably wondering what the hell I’m about to say. But I’m not here for anyone but these three men standing in front of me. And maybe Penny, who’s currently trying to balance her flower basket on her head.
“To you, Timothy,” I say, my voice steady even though the butterflies in my stomach are trying to escape. “You’ve been the one who’s always held me up when I didn’t think I could stand. You make me feel like it’s okay to just be… me.”
Then I turn to Mitchell, the quiet one, the one I’ve learned to love in ways I never expected. “To you, Mitchell. You’ve taught me that love isn’t always loud, but it’s always there, in the way you look at me, in the way you just get me without needing anything in return.”
And finally, I look at Freddie, whose grin is always too wide, his charm too effortless. “To you, Freddie. You make life a little bit lighter, even when I’m convinced it’s too heavy to carry. You remind me that it’s okay to laugh, even when everything feels like a mess.”
I look at all of them. “I don’t know what I would do without the three of you. You are everything I’ve ever needed.”
I can’t keep the tears from falling now, and I don’t want to. They fall even harder when the men take their turns, all pronouncing their own version of love and dedication to me. This moment is all of us, messy and beautiful. These men, my family, my strange, complicated, perfect family.
The officiant gives a soft chuckle, as if he’s used to this kind of chaos. “I now pronounce you wife and… husbands.”
I don’t even wait for him to finish. I throw my arms around all three of them, because this is our moment. Not anyone else’s. The crowd claps, but all I hear is the sound of my heart beating in my chest, the rhythm of something I never thought I’d find.
“Love you,” I whisper, barely audible.
And in this moment, it’s the truest thing I’ve ever said.
Penny runs up to us, her little arms stretched wide, she’s ready for the next part of the show. She’s still tossing petals everywhere, and I can’t help but laugh as she tugs at my dress.
“We’re a family now,” I murmur, my voice thick with the weight of everything we’ve been through to get here.
“We always were,” Timothy says, his voice low and sure. He’s right, as usual.
We’re not perfect. We never will be. But we’re us. And that’s enough.
I take a deep breath, looking out at the world, my strange, beautiful world. It’s not always easy, but it’s mine. And for the first time, I don’t feel like I’m just passing through. I belong.
The end.