Epilogue
Five Years Later
TJ
Foster child.Alcoholic. Junkie. Homeless. I’ve worn many labels throughout my life, none of them good.
I’ve been through a lot. Been to the darkest depths of the earth. I’ve hit rock bottom. Lost every person that ever mattered to me.
It’d be easy to dwell on it, like I did for so long. I remained in my own personal realm of torture. I accepted the shit life handed me. I blamed my father. Blamed Woods. Bobby. Even my mom.
But that’s all behind me now.
Now, Carla’s all I can see.
I smile at her from where I stand. She’s rubbing her belly over the pale pink chiffon bridesmaid dress she’s wearing, her dark hair falling in loose waves. I know she’s uncomfortable standing all this time in heels, but no one would be able to tell.
That’s Carla. She’ll do anything for the ones she loves.
Somehow, I’ve become one of those people. Someone she loves. I’m a lucky bastard. And I don’t use that term lightly.
Luck has a lot to do with the things that happen to us. But it’s up to us to reclaim the wheel and steer our lives where we want them to go.
Like my buddy Tanner here. He had his issues, sure, but now he’s standing at the altar about to marry the love of his life. All because he took responsibility for his actions and owned his shit.
“You may now kiss the bride,” says the priest.
Charlotte leans toward Tanner, lips pursed for a clean church kiss—like they practiced. But Tanner’s always been a bit of a showoff.
He dips her backward and deepens the kiss until Charlotte’s cheeks are as red as her bouquet.
Carla’s laughter tears my attention from the newlyweds. I watch her as she watches them, and my heart could not be fuller.
Never thought I’d meet someone like her.
Never thought I’d be days away from becoming a father.
Never thought I’d have anything more than the lonely, empty life I once had.
Carla slips her hand in mine as we walk back down the aisle. “I cannot wait to get these shoes off.”
“Why don’t we go home? You know Charlotte wouldn’t mind under the circumstances.”
She shakes her head, as I suspected she would. “I am going to watch my best friend have her first dance with her husband. I am going to dance to exactly two slow songs with you. And I am going to eat cake!”
Two hours later, we’ve checked off every item on that list except for cake. I’m swaying on the dance floor with Carla wrapped in my arms. Well, there’s a giant belly between us, so I’m doing my best to reach her.
Halfway through the song, Carla’s body stops moving and her eyes go wide. A gush of water splatters over our shoes.
“But I didn’t have cake yet,” Carla whines.
“Fuck the cake.” I scoop her up and start barreling through the crowd.
An earsplitting scream sounds over the music. “Oh, my God! We’re having a baby!” Mallory’s shoes clack behind me.
Charlotte beats us to the hall entrance. “Let’s take the limo.”
Carla shakes her head. “Stay and enjoy the rest of your wedding. Save some cake for me.”
“Priorities, Carla. Baby over cake,” Mallory says.
Charlotte is reluctant to give in. “Will you call me as soon as he’s born?”
“You’ll be the first person I call,” I say.
“We are not taking the limo,” Mallory whispers as we make our way outside. “I’ll drive.”
Carla looks up at me with a worried expression, and I laugh. “It’s either Mal or the douchebag with the red truck. Take your pick.”
Carla groans and rests her head on my shoulder.
Mallory rolls her eyes as she climbs into the driver’s seat. “I don’t know what you’re whining about. I’m an expert driver.”
The hospital is about fifteen minutes away. Mallory gets us there in eight.
After all the contractions,after all the pushing and screaming, we meet our precious bundle of joy.
It’s after midnight. Mallory, Charlotte, and Tanner are all passed out in our room, still in their wedding attire. Carla’s asleep too.
In the dim light, I gaze down at my sleeping baby boy. Ten tiny fingers and toes. Healthy and strong. Couldn’t tell you who he looks like yet. I don’t have any of my baby pictures, and he still looks like a wrinkly old man.
As I cradle him in my arms, I’m overcome with emotion. My heart feels so full, I’m shocked my chest hasn’t cracked open.
I just can’t believe I’m here. In this moment. I witnessed a miracle. And this miracle is for me. Because of me.
This is the best thing I’ve ever done in my life. Loving Carla and creating our child – this is what my struggle was for. This makes it all worth it.
I am finally at peace.
Finally where I’m supposed to be.
I press my lips to my son’s tiny head and inhale his perfect scent. “You know, your mom once told me we’re all a little bit fucked up,” I whisper. “She’s right. We’ve all got our crosses to bear. We all have a past that we lug around like an overstuffed suitcase. You haven’t made any mistakes yet, but you will.
“It’s hard to let it all go. It’s hard to get up and fight. It’s hard to change. Grow. Learn. Life’s hard. Life isn’t fair. You’ll learn that. But you can’t lie down and give up.”
I swipe a tear from my cheek. “I’m going to teach you how to dig deep. You have it in you. We all do. But only some of us choose to use our strength. I want you to know that you have a choice. You always have a choice. I’m not a statistic. Not anymore. I’m not a victim. I’m a survivor. I’m a warrior. Your mom is too. And my little man, so are you.”
THE END