Spreadsheets and Bedsheets (Havenwood #1)

EPILOGUE

ELLIOTT

N ine months into sharing a life with Jules, our home had transformed into a vibrant tapestry of our shared journey, a place where every corner whispered tales of our union. My once meticulously ordered space now bore the beautiful chaos of Jules’ presence: brightly colored fabric swatches draped casually over chairs, handwritten notes in flourishing script scattered across the coffee table, and an entire corner in the dining room overtaken by an eclectic vintage record player surrounded by stacks of cherished vinyl treasures unearthed from thrift shops. What had once seemed disorderly now felt like an artful expression of who we were together, and I couldn’t imagine my life without it.

Tonight, that same delightful life was magnified by the warm embrace of our closest friends and family. In our backyard, twinkling string lights wove a fairy-tale canopy over mismatched chairs arranged lovingly around the space, each one cradling clusters of laughter and heartfelt conversation. Near the glowing firepit, faces were illuminated by its gentle, flickering radiance as guests roasted marshmallows or simply basked in the soothing crackle of the fire. The blend of vibrant chatter, punctuated by peals of laughter, mingled with the soft, mellifluous hum of background music, crafting an atmosphere that felt both exuberantly lively and intimately personal.

The early April Spring air was crisp and aromatic, carrying an alluring medley of scents: the smoky allure of roasted vegetables, the savory trace of grilled chicken, and the lingering, sweet perfume of Jules’ homemade sangria. Amidst this sensory banquet, Callie sat cross-legged on a rustic camping chair near the patio. They animatedly recounted their latest salon escapade, a glimmer of mischief in their eyes and a half-full wine glass in hand. “And then she says, ‘I want bangs like Taylor Swift.’ And I’m like, honey, Swift’s bangs are a national treasure, and I’m just one person!” Their voice danced with humor as the group erupted into contagious laughter.

Perched on the worn arm of a patio chair, Jules added an exaggerated flourish, mimicking a theatrical recitation of Puck’s monologue from A Midsummer Night’s Dream . Their performance was a burst of energy that carried effortlessly over the hum of conversation, drawing claps and cheers from everyone around. Callie raised their glass in a playful salute. “You’re damn right I did,” they declared with infectious pride.

Across the table, Sam and Avery engaged in a spirited debate about launching a podcast segment on local ghost stories. “I’m telling you, people love haunted history,” Avery insisted, their tone sparkling with enthusiastic fervor. Sam, taking a measured sip of his drink, shot a wry smile. “Sure, because Havenwood really needs me recounting tales of the Taproom’s infamous keg that apparently tapped itself once.” The banter was as lively as it was endearing.

Meanwhile, Renzo and Liam lounged contentedly on the sun-warmed porch, beers in hand. They took turns hilariously recounting the intricate details of Liam’s latest dating mishap, a fumble involving a clueless gym bro, an awkward lull that stretched into eternity, and an absurd attempt at dirty talk that had Renzo gasping with laughter. I manned the grill near the edge of the patio, flipping burgers with practiced care while keeping one ear attuned to the surrounding conversations.

Caleb, leaning casually against the counter beside me, sipped his soda with an air of quiet confidence. At 13, his lanky frame hinted at the promise of towering growth, and his easy demeanor was a striking, heartwarming contrast to the awkwardness I had known at his age. His inquisitive eyes twinkled as he broke the comfortable silence. “You’re still gonna do it tonight, right?” he asked, his tone a blend of playful teasing and earnest curiosity as he popped a chip into his mouth.

I glanced his way, masking my eagerness with feigned innocence. “Do what?” I replied, a half-smile tugging at my lips.

He grinned mischievously, nodding toward the small velvet box hidden in my jacket pocket. “C’mon, Dad. You’ve been checking your pocket like it holds a secret every five minutes. It’s not exactly subtle.”

I chuckled, shaking my head in affectionate exasperation. “That obvious?” I mused.

“Painfully,” he admitted with an impish pause, his grin evoking memories of his mother’s warm humor. “It’s cool, though. Jules is cool. You’re… happier. I like it.”

My throat tightened as I reached out to tousle his hair gently. “Thanks, bud. That means more than you know,” I murmured.

“Just don’t get all mushy on me,” Caleb teased, playfully shoving my hand away before breaking into a wide smile.

My eyes briefly left the sizzling grill to catch a glimpse of Jules. Their voice soared clearly over the soft murmur of conversation, eliciting bursts of laughter and spontaneous applause from those gathered. Watching from the periphery, my heart swelled with an overwhelming certainty and tender delight.

As twilight descended, painting the sky in ethereal hues of purple and gold, dinner began to wind down. Plates cleared away, making room for the delightful array of desserts that Callie had insisted on bringing tangy lemon bars, decadently rich chocolate tarts, and a fruit cobbler nearly devoured in anticipation. Jules took their place beside me on an old wooden bench, their hand resting lightly on my knee as their laughter mingled with the tale Sam spun aloud about his comically disastrous first (and only) roller skating experience.

Across the table, Callie’s knowing eyes met mine, silently toasting with a raised glass in encouragement. My heart pounded mightily as I stood, drawing the attention of the entire gathering. Noticing the shift, Jules looked up with a playful yet curious expression. “What’s up, Teach?” they asked, their tone laced with both jest and sincere interest.

In that electrifying moment, my hand dove into the inner pocket of my jacket, fingers grazing the cool velvet of the small box as the world around me seemed to decelerate. The joyful hum of conversation and the melodic clinking of glasses faded into a distant murmur, replaced by the deafening cadence of my own racing heartbeat.

“Jules,” I began, my voice resonant and steady despite the tempest of nerves swirling within, “it’s hard to fathom that it’s been a year since our first date at the Bistro. I still recall the tremble in my voice, the nervous flutter, and how you made everything feel effortlessly serene. And look at Evan over there, laughing with Noah and Callie,” I said, subtly gesturing toward our merry group. “He was the waiter that night. It’s wild, to think how much has changed in just one year, how much more vibrant and fuller our lives have become.”

I paused for a heartbeat, glancing toward Caleb who offered me an encouraging nod that warmed me further. “These past nine months with you, Jules, have been the absolute best chapters of my life. You’ve flooded my world with light, joy, and colors I never knew existed.” I let my voice soften, heavy with emotion. “Our world.”

At that, Jules’ eyes widened, and their lips parted in a silent gasp of understanding. “You’ve taught me to take leaps of faith, to embrace the beautiful chaos of life, and to find exquisite beauty in unexpected moments,” I continued, my words pouring forth with both passion and vulnerability. “You’ve taught me to be brave, not only for myself but for us.”

Then, with a reverent stillness that stole everyone’s breath, I dropped to one knee. Holding up the small velvet box for all to see, the world seemed to hold a collective pause as gasps spread through the crowd. Jules clutched at their mouth in astonishment, their eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“Jules,” I said, my voice thick with receding emotion yet brimming with hope, “will you marry me?”

For a suspended moment that stretched into eternity, the world around us faltered in anticipation. Then, like a beam of pure light, Jules nodded fervently, their voice trembling with joy as they whispered, “Yes. Of course, yes.”

In that magical instant, the yard erupted into cheers, applause, and exuberant exclamations. Callie dramatically dabbed away tears, Sam clapping Caleb heartily on the back, and from the porch Liam bellowed, “Finally!” The joyous cacophony of celebration mingled with the lingering melodies of the night as I carefully slid a shining ring onto Jules’ finger. Its silver band sparkled in the subdued glow of the evening, reflecting off Jules’ beaming face as they pulled me gently to my feet. Their arms enveloped me, and they kissed me with a passion so intense it seemed to dissolve the boundaries of time and space.

When we eventually drew apart, Jules leaned in close and whispered, “You’re stuck with me now, Teach.”

“Good,” I murmured, a smile curving my lips as I returned their kiss with a tenderness that mirrored the shared promise of our future.

Amid the reverberating cheers and the warm embrace of our loved ones, Caleb darted through the jubilant throng. His face was aglow with pure, unadulterated excitement as he raced toward us. Throwing his arms around me, he squeezed tightly and then quickly did the same for Jules. “Congratulations, you guys! So, do I get to call you my dads now?” His exuberant declaration struck us both, drawing tears of joy to mine and glistening in Jules’ eyes.

All around us, our friends and family joined in with warm hugs, heartfelt congratulations, and laughter that intertwined seamlessly with the sounds of celebration. The night stretched on into a symphony of music, merriment, and the unyielding warmth of community. Under a vast, starlit sky and the tender glow of the moon, surrounded by those who loved us most, Jules and I stepped courageously into the next chapter of our lives, side by side, exactly where we were meant to be.