Epilogue
Rain
It’s my wedding day. I stand at the altar, in one of the biggest halls in florida.
I estimate about five hundred faces, each one etched with joy. Only a quarter of them are family, friends and employees, but the rest are strangers to me. I can’t recognize anyone if I try to anyway, so I fix my attention on the door, where Hazel will walk through any minute now.
My heart pounds in anticipation, my palms slightly sweaty. Who would have known that marriages bring out so many unexpected nerves.
“I thought Knox would get married first,” Anton says behind me as he fixes his suit.
Camera flashes erupt from the press corps, and we prep ourselves to look perfect, aware that the wedding photos will make various headlines.
The last thing I want is a candid shot of myself or the boys with mouths agape in my wedding album.
“And who, exactly, would I marry?” he searches the crowd and waves at his daughter who’s sitting on her grandmother’s lap. “I have a daughter, remember?”
“People with daughters get married,” I lean back and add. I can’t pinpoint why, but even I thought Knox would get married first. None of us were interested in marriage, but Knox seems like the best husband material among us.
“My bet is on Knox next.”
“Mine too.”
“Mine too.”
“You lot are crazy. And you’re getting married, at least be responsible.”
I can barely contain my excitement, hearing someone else say it to me. At the end of this slow-moving day, I get to spend the rest of my life with Hazel. No deadlines and no prepared divorce papers waiting in the corners.
I still have my lawyer’s smug expression stored in my memories when I handed him the divorce papers I signed and told him he didn’t need to worry about it. He said if he had made a bet with me, he would have been a few millions richer.
The music shifts, and a hush falls over the room. The guests rise on their feet and I turn to face the aisle, my breath catching.
And then I see her.
My woman.
If I’ve always thought she was beautiful, now she’s ethereal.
Hazel walks down the aisle with her sister’s husband and her best friend, who’s acting as her maid of honor. She smiles at a few guests before her eyes lock on mine, and everything else fades.
Time suspends as she glides softly toward me, every step strengthening my decision of making her mine forever.
“I look better in blue suits,” Anton chirps.
Tears prick the corners of my eyes, and I stretch my brows to stop it. “Shut up, I’m getting married.”
“Are you crying? If you are, I’ll tease you about it until your grandson’s daughter turns twelve.”
“Me too.”
“Me too.”
I chuckle at our usual taunts.
Hazel reaches my side and I take her hand in mine, feeling the familiar spark between us.
“I know I’m marrying you for a reason.”
“And what reason might that be, Hazel Wilmer?” I ask, calling her with the name she’ll never use again after today.
“Your good looks.” She brushes her hand on my suit. “You’re the most handsome man in here today. I love you.” My smile deepens as she mouths the last part to me.
“I love you too.”
The ceremony unfolds—vows, rings, and promises. Despite the hundreds of people in the hall, the press, and flashing cameras, all that matters is the woman beside me.
When the priest pronounces us husband and wife, I sweep Hazel into my arms and our lips meet in an electrifying kiss. I don’t need to be told when it’s all I’ve itched to do since she walked up to me.
“Hey, husband.”
“Hello, wife.”
The reception hall buzzes with music, laughter and the thick scent of champagne.
Hazel’s hand rests in mine as we walk around the room, smiling and greeting the guests.
“The Dacosta having a bigger wedding for the public is expected,” Anne Martinez says with a smile as she takes a sip of her champagne. “Thank you for the invite, Hazel.”
“I should thank you for RSVPing yes. Allison couldn’t make it?”
“Yes, she’s in Greece for a vacation. She takes vacations every now and then.” The women chat and laugh for a few more minutes before we move to the other guests.
“I should have known you were his wife. I’m so embarrassed,” Henri Leclair jokes with my wife in his thick french accent, and I glare at him.
‘I only have a social media account to stalk Henri Leclair.’ I can’t get it out of my head.
“I should have told you, sir. I’m sorry.”
“Oh that’s okay. It’s just a joke. Also, maybe it’s me who’s seeing things, but your husband looks like he’s a second away from having my head.” He laughs. “Did I do something?”
“He just really hates crowds.”
“Ah! Understandable.”
We’re on our way to the next set of guests when Hazel pulls me to a corner. “You need to stop glaring at everyone. Before you say you’re not,” she stops me as soon as I open my mouth. “Even your normal face looks mad. Can you smile for today? It doesn’t hurt, I promise you.”
“It’s hard to not be mad when all I want to do is go home with you. We barely saw each other while planning this wedding.”
Hazel’s eyes soften and she places her hand on my chest, giving it one single pat. “It’ll be worth the wait. But only if you’re good.”
I snake my hand around her waist and pull her closer, my smirk lifting when she scans the guests in alarm. “Let’s just sneak away, hm? No one will notice.”
“No one will notice the couple are missing? You’re wild!”
I dip my head and brush my lips with hers. “Then at least let your attention be on me.”
Before Hazel, I wasn’t a PDA type of person, but now, all I want to do is kiss her in front of everyone, so that they know who she belongs to.
“Okay then. Dance with me?”
She doesn’t need to ask me one more time.
The reception lights dim, leaving us in the bright light in the middle. I sway with her to the rhythm of the music, our bodies fitting together like a tailored design.
Hazel’s blush-like smile widens and she drops her head to my chest. “What’s going on in my mind? Tell me.”
“I’m just thinking. We have the funniest love story to ever exist.”
I breathe a laugh. She’s right, we do have the most unique story leading to this love of ours. Hazel got drunk and lost in a country she has never been to before, and I picked up a woman from the road and took her to my house—something I’ve never done before.
“It is,” I agree. “But every meeting, every moment, every fight, is what has led to this love story of ours. I don’t want to change anything. Merging hearts with you is the best decision I’ve ever made.”
“Mine too.” Our eyes lock and I feel my emotions elevating again. I still have to get used to the fact that every feeling is stronger when it’s with her. “Kiss me, Mr Dacosta.”
“With all pleasure, Mrs Dacosta.