32. Epilogue - James
T he ring box burned a hole in my pocket as I watched Emma work her magic.
"I just don't know," the bride-to-be was saying. "What if we're moving too fast?"
Emma caught my eye across the table, her lips curving slightly. We'd been doing this long enough that I knew my cue.
"Let me ask you something," I said. "What scares you more—the idea of marrying him, or the idea of losing him?"
The woman—Jessica—twisted her engagement ring. "Losing him. Definitely losing him."
"Then you're not moving too fast," Emma said gently. "You're just nervous. Which is completely normal three weeks before your wedding."
I watched Emma guide the conversation, drawing out Jessica's real fears. Not about her fiancé, it turned out, but about living up to his family's expectations.
"My parents were farmers," Jessica admitted. "His family... they summer in the Hamptons. Whatever that means."
"It means they're probably incredibly boring," I said, making her laugh. "But you know who isn't boring? Their son. Who chose you exactly because you're not like the country club crowd."
By the time Jessica left, she was smiling. Emma waited until the door closed before crawling into my lap.
"You're getting good at this," she said.
"I had a good teacher." I pressed a kiss to her temple. "Who knew wedding wrecking skills would translate so well to wedding saving?"
"Speaking of saving..." She toyed with my collar. "Maggie called. She wants us to invest in her new coffee shop expansion."
"The one in Denver or the one in Savannah? I’m starting to lose track."
"Denver. Marcus already approved the business plan, but she wants us as silent partners." She pulled back to study my face. "What do you think?"
I thought about how far we'd all come in the past year and a half. Maggie's coffee empire was taking off, thanks to Marcus's guidance. She still sold her flavor bombs, but now guests could buy them in brick-and-mortar stores and combine them with her custom blends of coffee, too. Lily had just opened her fourth Pawsh Pets location. Even Derek, my old business partner, seemed to have really found his calling working as our intensive cases counselor.
"I think," I said carefully, "that we should probably discuss it over dinner. Maybe somewhere special?"
Emma's eyes narrowed. "How special?"
"The kind of special that requires that blue dress I like."
"James Carter." She poked my chest. "Are you planning something?"
"Always." I caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. "Pick you up at seven?"
"We live together."
"Humor me."
She studied my face for a long moment, then smiled. "Fine. But only because you're cute when you're being mysterious."
“Good,” I said, “I’ve got a few things to handle before dinner tonight. I’ll see you at seven?”
Emma narrowed her eyes at me. “You’re leaving the office before me? Something is definitely up.”
I smiled, kissed her on the cheek, and thought about the first time I saw her in that castle in Ireland. She'd been so focused on perfection then, and I'd been so determined to see the worst in every relationship.
Now here we were, building something real together. Something beautifully imperfect.
I drove off from the office with the engagement ring’s box still straining against my pocket. It had been months since I got this thing, but tonight was finally the night. I’d even gone the traditional route and asked her parents for their blessing a few weeks back.
After that, I called my own parents. That conversation had been... complicated. But necessary.
"You're sure about this?" my mother had asked. "After Katie..."
"Emma's nothing like Katie," I had said. "She makes me want to be better. To believe in something real."
There had been a long pause before my father said, "Then don't screw it up like your brother did."
It wasn't exactly a warm blessing, but it was something. A bridge, maybe, to whatever came next. I knew they had recently fallen out with Chase because he tricked them into lending money that was actually meant for Katie. It had been a final straw after so many that let them see how far gone he was. As much as I hated it for him, I wondered if it was finally an open door to start fixing things in my own family.
My phone buzzed with a text from Emma:
Emma: The blue dress you like is making my boobs look huge tonight. Are you sure you’re going to be able to control yourself around me?
Me: Absolutely not. Even more reason for you to wear it.
Emma: What’s the restaurant?
Me: It's a surprise. Trust me?
Emma: Always. Even if you did ruin my career that one time.
I laughed out loud, earning curious looks from our staff. That joke had become something of a running gag between us—a reminder of how far we'd come.
When I met Emma in Ireland, she was just starting out as a wedding photographer turned planner. In Breckenridge, she was a small-time wedding planner who was coming out of her comfort zone for the sake of her sister’s wedding. And now?
Our businesses had merged in an unexpected pairing that was shockingly successful. Turns out there was a huge market for couples who wanted more than just a perfect wedding. They wanted tools to build a lasting marriage.
My phone buzzed again:
Emma: Speaking of trust... Derek just walked by my office whistling and looking very suspicious. Should I be worried?
I made a mental note to kill Derek later. He had one job: get everything set up at the restaurant without being suspicious. But apparently, my oldest friend was incapable of acting normal.
Me: Just a coincidence. See you at 7.
I arrived at the restaurant early to check Derek's work, relieved to find he'd at least done his part right. The photos were arranged exactly as I'd planned—a timeline of our relationship starting at the entrance to the terrace. Ireland, the ski resort, and a few candid moments I’d managed to collect of us by begging everybody in attendance to look through their camera rolls for me. I’d had each photo printed out and included a handwritten note about what that moment or place meant to me.
Once I was sure everything was in place, I drove back to pick Emma up from our apartment. I had to dodge a hundred of her questions on the ride as she tried desperately to ruin the surprise. I also had to avoid pulling the car over and missing out on the plan because she looked so insanely sexy in that blue dress. She hadn’t been exaggerating about what it did for her curves.
I helped her out of the car once we arrived, smiling as I looked her over and reminded myself for the millionth time that she was mine. Somehow, some way, this gorgeous woman had picked me. And tonight… Tonight I was going to make it permanent.
"You're beautiful." I caught her hands, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "Ready for dinner?"
She narrowed her eyes. "Why do you look nervous?"
"Do I?"
"James Carter, I’m beginning to suspect you’re about to —
"You'll see," I said, cutting her off. I led up the stairs past the indoor dining room and toward the rooftop terrace. "Close your eyes."
"Really?"
"Humor me."
She did, though her smile was suspicious. I guided her outside to the terrace, positioning her at the start of the photo timeline.
"Okay," I said softly, "open them."
Emma's hand flew to her mouth as she took in the first photo. It was the wine cellar in Ireland. Granted, it was empty, but I’d flown out just to get this one because I knew the collection wouldn’t be complete without it. I had put a little note card labeled “Emma” on the table and positioned a second labeled “Me,” just for the humorous touch.
"How did you..."
"Remember that boy’s weekend to Vegas?” I asked. “I flew out to get this one.”
“I can’t believe you did that…” she whispered.
I watched her move from photo to photo, reading each note. Her at the ski resort, covered in snow. Us dancing at Lily's wedding. Candid moments from our office, both of us caught up in work but stealing glances at each other.
"James..." Her voice was thick with emotion.
"Almost there."
The final photo was from just last week—Emma asleep on our couch, case files spread around her, wearing one of my sweaters. My note read: This is the moment I knew I couldn't wait any longer to ask you to marry me.
When she turned around, I was on one knee.
"Emma Marshall," I said, my voice shaking slightly. "You walked into my life and turned everything upside down. You made me question everything I thought I knew about love. About trust. About what's worth fighting for."
She was crying now, but smiling through the tears.
"You're the first person I want to tell when something good happens. The only person I want to talk to when things go wrong. You make me better, not because you try to fix me, but because you love me exactly as I am while making me want to be more."
"James..."
"Will you marry me? And maybe help me un-wreck a few more weddings along the way?"
She laughed through her tears. "Only if you promise to never actually wreck ours."
"Is that a yes?"
She pulled me to my feet, cupping my face in her hands. "Yes. A thousand times yes."
I slid the ring onto her finger with shaking hands, then kissed her like my life depended on it.
"I can't believe you did all this," she whispered.
"I had help. Even if Derek can't act casual to save his life."
She laughed, then kissed me again. "I love you.”
"I love you too." I pulled her close, breathing in the scent of her perfume.
Emma's response was cut off by the arrival of our friends and family. Lily launched herself at her sister while Marcus shook my hand. Maggie was already crying, clutching what looked suspiciously like wedding venue brochures. My parents stood awkwardly to the side, but they were here. It was a start.
Later, after toasts and celebrations, I found Emma at the edge of the terrace, looking out at the mountains.
"Happy?" I asked, wrapping my arms around her from behind.
She leaned back against my chest, holding up her hand to admire the ring. "More than I ever thought possible."
I smiled against her hair, thinking about how far we'd come. How neither of us was the same person who met in that castle in Ireland. We were better versions of ourselves—not because we'd fixed each other, but because we'd chosen to grow together.
And if you asked me, that was best kind of love story, because it was ours.
-The End