Epilogue
Matt
I check my suit one more time.
Like the last time I put this suit on, I don’t recognize the man in the mirror.
I’ve gotten a haircut and styled the curls to within an inch of their life—I almost shaved my head in frustration trying to create some semblance of order—and I trimmed and straightened my beard.
At this point, I look like a monkey-suited lumberjack, but the beard had been Ryan-the-Gay-Fashionista’s idea, and in all fairness to him, he’d called it right.
I look better with a beard.
The tailored suit cuts all my overly massive bulges exactly right, and the black helps minimize just how big I really am. At least, that’s why the tailor suggested the black material.
Satisfied with the look, I return to the hotel’s bedroom, looking over the organized chaos happening.
Deejay wears the suit I bought him for our first and only date as well, and it takes some mental discipline to keep my mind from undressing him like I did that night.
He ties Jasper’s bowtie while Kendall helps Colt with his.
Cary looks about ready to pull his bowtie off as he works on getting his feet into his new loafers while Robbie gives him encouraging instructions from where he sits putting his feet into his shoes as well.
Lily looks like a fairy Princess in a ruffled blue and white dress as she entertains the twins with an impromptu puppet show.
A knock on the door has me turning on my heels to answer it.
On the other side, a group of similarly dressed men and one woman stand with varying degrees of expect looks on their faces.
I’ve become most familiar with Fraser and Amelia over the last few weeks.
This is the first time I’m seeing Kirk and Orson since the family dinner that blew up.
I only recognize the others from their photos.
“Hello, I’m Matt Blank D’Aquino,”
I tell the ones who haven’t met me. “We’re just about ready.”
“I’m Valentine—Val Aquino.”
The man has electric blue hair cut in a halo of curls around his smiling face, and matching eyes that look genuinely happy to meet me. Since all the pictures of him have him with varying shades of hair, I know the blue comes from a bottle, but it looks almost natural on him.
He offers me his hand, so I take it in a firm but non-aggressive handshake. “Pleasure. There’s barely room in here for us, but you’re welcome to come crowd in.”
“I’m Jansen,”
the next one offers before anyone can move. His platinum hair stands up in a flat top so high, I feel like I’m looking at the poster boy for 1995. His grey eyes take me in with wide-eyed wonder. “I can see why Deejay got attached.”
“I have no idea what that means,”
I remark as my eyes land on a delicate-looking guy with waist-length, dark-blond tresses and bright emerald green eyes.
He could give Cary a run for his money on the looks-like-a-cherub meter.
Cupid bow lips turn up in a peaceful smile while a gloved hand comes toward me.
The guy looks delicate, but he takes me hand and offers me a firm handshake to rival the power of his brother’s grips.
“I’m Den. It’s nice to meet you finally.”
“Same,”
I return as he takes his hand back and slips it into his pocket to mirror the placement of his other hand.
“We’re ready!”
Deejay calls from behind me.
I pull the door as wide as it will go, and step to the side, looking over my family.
As soon as the younger kids see their older brothers, the scene devolves into a reunion in the hotel hallway while Deejay and I grab the babies and diaper bag.
The next hour involves getting everyone into the shuttle we rented and riding over to the Texas A&M campus where the one brother I haven’t met will graduate with his Bachelor of Fine Arts.
Because of the size of our group, we arrive earlier than most so we can get seats together, and as soon as everyone settles in, in two rows so no one has to shout over anyone to talk, Deejay leans into me with a happy sigh.
I slip my arm around his shoulders and press a kiss into his hair.
“Your family is together.”
“Yep.
As soon as Monet gets done with this, I will have all my boys in one place for the first time since Christmas. It’s nice.”
He sighs again and lifts his face up in the way he does when he wants a kiss.
I lean over and press my lips to his, keeping it chaste for the moment even though everything about this man makes me want to do unchaste things to him. “But you’ll have them all together again for camping in less than two months,”
I remind him after breaking the kiss before it can become more than a peck.
“I want to get married and have our honeymoon while they’re camping. It’s the only time I can think of that we will have so many people we can trust to take care of the littles,”
Deejay blurts out in a single breath.
“Good idea!”
Jansen exclaims excitedly, turning in his seat to face us.
“You don’t think it's a bit too soon to get married?”
Orson asks Jansen, not us.
Jansen pshaws, waving his hand at his brother. “Do you know nothing about Obsidites? Matt has chosen. Nothing is going to change that. Papa knows his own mind. If he wants to get married, then he’s getting married.”
Orson grunts and looks at us. “If you’re getting married before the annual Fourth of July camping trip, I call dibs on the bachelor party. I won’t do a thing for the rest of it, but Kirk and I will do the bachelor party.”
“So, July first? That’ll only extend our planned vacation by a day,”
Val interjects before blowing a raspberry into Alex’s tummy, causing the baby to laugh.
“Sounds good to me,”
Jansen nods in agreement, stealing the baby from Val and performing his own version of a raspberry, which just looks like he’s eating the baby’s clothes.
“I’m available,”
I smirk down at Deejay.
“I love you,”
he smiles, as happiness settles in and makes its home in his beautiful features.
“I love you too,”
I rumble just as content as my mate.
The brothers spend the rest of the hour before the commencement ceremony begins planning our wedding with very little input from either me or Deejay, but I can feel his joy as he watches his family volley over odd details like the color of the cummerbunds, whether orange and teal clash in a bad way or a good way, and the dangers of an open bar.
Honestly, it all sounds exhausting, but the funniest part is that Orson feels the need to make his contrary opinions heard and discussed and even threatens to take over the planning from Jansen, who I didn’t know until now is exceptionally excitable.
The emcee finally calling everyone to order saves our family from an actual brawl over whether we need one or two groom’s cakes.
What even is a groom’s cake?!
I can’t help the well of happiness that bubbles over into a wide smile on my face as I fail to hear anything the speakers have to say.
I didn’t come here for them.
I came here for my chosen family.
For Deejay, the man who chose me.
I may never go through this rigmarole myself.
I already have the date for taking my GED set, and I have a job I intend to keep for the foreseeable future.
The Headsman position hasn’t changed much since I performed my duty the first time except that with the consent of the new CEO of L.L.
Security and the Judiciary Council backing him, I can choose to override the death sentence, and the Hub will respect my decision.
I haven’t exercised that power yet, but I have it now, and Kim Marduke and I started working on finding alternative methods of discipline for non-humans before they ever get to the Cage.
And that’s all the thought I should give it while technically on vacation for the weekend so I can be here.
Monet Aquino floats across the stage fifth.
I’ve seen him in pictures, but they did not prepare me for his presence at all.
I can’t even see the man under the aura shining off him.
All non-humans shine, and that succubus from school shined a bit brighter than most, but Monet—I can barely look at him.
I feel the need for sunglasses, which I have in my inner pocket, so I pull them out and put them on, looking back at the man shining brighter than any person I have ever seen.
“What are you doing?”
Deejay asks on a whispered breath.
“Daddy,”
Cary whines from between Jasper and Val.
“Don’t look, buddy, just look at me,”
I tell him, reaching across them all to grab him.
I track Monet back to his seat where the rest of the graduates awaiting their turn on the stage hide his aura, then remove my shades and pocket them. “Well, buddy, looks like we need to get you some sunglasses before we meet Monet,”
I murmur to Cary with a smile, though I glance at Deejay. “He’s bright,”
I explain quietly.
“You needed shaded lenses for him?”
Deejay questions surprised.
I nod. “We’ll have to wear them around him unless we can figure out how to suppress his aura’s brightness. I can’t even see the man. All I see is his aura, and all I can see of that is blindingly bright.”
Deejay gives me a worried smile, which I wipe away with an assuring kiss. “Do you want to take Cary to get sunglasses? If you go now, you can be back before we meet Monet after the ceremony.”
“Should I take all four littles? Keep them busy so they don’t have to squirm around here another couple of hours?”
Deejay glances at all his boys and purses his lips. “We did already see Monet go through. We could just abandon the uncomfortable seats and meet him when it’s over.”
“Let’s do that,”
Kirk agrees quietly as he pats Eren, standing with my baby on his shoulder.
That’s all any of us need, and as a group we head out of the stadium, the best dressed ditchers in the building.
I hear Colt and Kendall share a quiet laugh behind me, and when I look back, they’re looking over their shoulders, where Monet sits, now in full view of us.
They wave at him, and he gives us a discreet wave back.
I guess he caught us not-sneaking out, but it’s ok.
The Demesne D’Aquino rarely stands on ceremony, and he knows it.
As soon as we walk outside, I catch up with Deejay and take his hand in mine.
A quiet, content rumble makes its way out of me at the feel of his ring on his hand.
It’s a formal occasion, so we’re wearing the ones he bought, but I’m happy just feeling it on his hand.
Right now, it’s the symbol of what we’re going to do, but soon we will wear these rings as symbols of the promises and commitment we will make and keep.
And now we have a date that will provide a before and after distinction.
Maybe others might say they don’t need the wedding for the marriage, but I do.
I want the before and after.
I want to have a date to celebrate every year.
I want to have the paper that says this man is my husband.
I want all the legal paperwork, and the headache of the planning, and the excitement of the day.
I want everything with Deejay, not just the rings and the words, but the journey that makes those meaningful.
July first, come what may, will change my life for the rest of it and I am excited for that change.
The End