Epilogue II
Chase
Five Years Later
The wind picks up again, sending a wave of golden poppies and purple flowers swaying like they're dancing to music only they can hear.
I adjust my tie, the one Piper insisted I wear because 'you can't get married in a flannel, Chase', and try not to grin like an idiot.
Keyword: try.
"Daddy, you're smiling too much."
I look down at our three-year-old daughter, Isabelle, who's clutching a small basket of wildflowers in one hand and half a gummy bear in the other.
Her blonde hair—so much like Piper's—are already escaping the careful braids Brooke spent an hour on this morning, and there's a smudge of what I'm pretty sure is chocolate on her cheek.
She's perfect.
"Am I?" I crouch down to her level, straightening the tiny flower crown perched on her head. "How much smiling is too much?"
"This much." She demonstrates by stretching her mouth into an exaggerated grin that shows all her baby teeth.
"Oh, right. Got it, sweetie. I'll dial it back."
"Good." She pops the rest of the gummy bear into her mouth and chews thoughtfully. "Mama says you cry when you're happy. Are you gonna cry, Daddy?"
"Probably."
"That's okay. Uncle Travis cries at everything."
From somewhere behind me, Travis shouts, "I heard that, Issy-bear!"
She giggles, and my heart does that thing it always does when she laughs—like it's trying to climb out of my body to get closer to her.
This kid has me completely wrapped around her tiny, sticky fingers, and everyone knows it.
Knox appears at my side, straightening his tie. "You ready for this, Morrison?"
"Been ready for five years."
"Could've done it sooner," he points out.
"Yeah, well." I stand, brushing dirt off my knees. "Life had other plans."
And it did.
First, there was Lily's wedding in Germany—the first time I'd seen my sister in person in almost a decade. Piper insisted we go, even though she was six months pregnant and exhausted.
"You need to be there," she'd said, booking the flights before I could argue. "Family matters."
She was right. She's always right.
Then Isabella arrived two months early, all five pounds of her, screaming her head off and turning my entire world upside down in the best possible way.
As a result, the wedding got pushed. Then pushed again.
And when Piper's business expanded and she was drowning in paperwork and hiring decisions, it only made sense to delay it again.
But we're here now. Finally.
Maybe. If this wind would go away.
The meadow stretches out before me, framed by the two velvet-green peaks I've hiked a thousand times. Wooden chairs are arranged in a loose semi-circle, filled with everyone who matters in our happy little life.
Betty is in the front row with a handkerchief already pressed to her eyes, Etta and Mabel whispering conspiratorially, Jamie and Brooke holding hands, the entire mountain rescue team looking uncomfortable in their dress clothes.
Charlie's manning the makeshift bar he insisted on setting up, a solid slab of carved pine he dragged up the mountain himself this morning.
Of course, his drinks are as much a spectacle as they are a refreshment.
The latest creation is a frothy, sunset-colored concoction he’s calling the Meadow Martini. It has everyone buzzing… literally.
I catch a whiff as he pours: bright citrus, a hint of something floral, and just enough vodka to make you forget the climb up here.
He garnishes each glass with a tiny sprig of lavender and a wildflower petal, the kind Piper would press between the pages of the wildflower guide she reads to Isabelle every night.
“Drink up,” Charlie calls into the wind. “Love tastes better with booze.”
But even now, mother nature is doing its best to ruin this magical day.
"Chase." Jamie appears, looking annoyingly calm in his suit. "Lily just texted. They landed. She's grabbing a cab now."
Relief floods my body. "Good. That's good."
"You want to wait?"
I glance at the sky. Dark clouds are rolling in from the west, and the wind's picking up. We've got maybe an hour before the storm hits, and knowing mountain weather, that's generous.
She was supposed to be here by now. My sister and her husband.
Their flight from Munich was delayed this morning because of the weather. The same weather that's currently threatening to blow every carefully placed decoration into the next county.
"No," I say. "We go now. She'll make it for the reception."
Jamie nods, claps me on the shoulder, looking towards the heavens. "Smart call. It's about to come down, I think."
"Besides," I add, watching Isabella attempt to braid wildflowers into Travis's beard, "life hands you all kinds of shitty moments. Sometimes you just gotta roll with it."
"Profound, Morrison."
"I have my moments."
The truth is, I've learned that the hard way.
Because you can't control everything. Flights get delayed. Babies arrive early. Your family moves to another continent and you spend years feeling like you're not enough for anyone to stay.
But sometimes, if you're lucky, you find someone who chooses you anyway. Who sees all your messy, broken parts and says, "Yeah, I'll take that. All of it."
And then you marry her in the meadow you took her on your first date. Full of wildflowers while your daughter feeds gummy bears to your groomsmen.
"Positions, everyone!" Betty's voice carries across the meadow like a general commanding troops. "The bride is ready!"
My heart kicks against my ribs.
Travis extracts himself from Isabella's flower-braiding session and takes his place beside Knox and his new girl. Beau straightens his tie and lays an arm around Molly. Jamie gives me one last look that says just be yourself before moving to stand with Brooke.
And then I see her.
Piper.
She's walking toward me through the wildflowers, and I forget how to breathe.
Her white dress is simple. Lace that moves with every hard gust of wind, bare shoulders, hair loose and golden in the afternoon light.
She's carrying a bouquet of lupine and poppies, the same flowers that surrounded us that first weekend when I brought her here and realized I was completely screwed.
And the best bit?
She's wearing mountain boots.
Of course she is.
Our eyes meet, and she grins that wide, unguarded smile that still knocks me sideways after all these years. I'm pretty sure I'm already crying.
"Told you," Isabella whispers loudly. "Daddy always cries."
Laughter ripples through the crowd, and Piper's grin widens as she reaches me. Brooke takes her bouquet, and then it's just us, standing in the middle of Wildflower Meadow while everyone we love watches.
"Hi," she says softly.
"Hi yourself."
"You're crying."
"You're wearing boots."
"The boots match the dress."
"You say that about everything."
"Maybe." Her eyes are shining, bright blue and full of everything I never thought I'd have. "Have I ever told you you look good in a tie, Morrison?"
"In fact, you have. Have I ever told you you look good in everything, Whitman?"
"Not for long." She squeezes my hands and winks. "In five minutes… I'm a Morrison."
My throat tightens. "Yeah. You are."
The officiant is a friend of Jamie's who's performed half the weddings in Stone River. In the last few years, he's suddenly become a busy man.
He clears his throat. "Shall we begin?"
I nod, not trusting my voice.
He starts talking about love and commitment and choosing each other every day, but I'm only half-listening because Isabelle's tugging on my pant leg whispering, "Daddy, when do I give Mama the ring?"
"Soon, baby," I whisper back. "Real soon."
The officiant gestures to us. "Chase and Piper have prepared their own vows. Chase, whenever you're ready."
I pull the folded paper from my pocket. I've rewritten the thing seventeen times in the past week, but when I open it, the words still somehow manage to blur together.
So I shove it back in my pocket and just... be myself.
"Piper." My voice cracks. Great start, Morrison. "Five years ago, you climbed a fire escape because you wanted to make one terrible decision. Turns out, you made the best decision of both our lives."
She laughs, tears already streaming down her face.
"You chose me when I didn't think I was worth choosing.
You stayed when I was sure you'd leave. You built a life here.
With me, with Isabella, with this whole chaotic town.
And you never looked back." I reach up, thumbing away her tears.
"You're my True North, Piper. The thing I navigate by.
The direction that always leads home. And I promise to spend every day, every single day, being the man you deserve.
The partner you can count on. The dad Isabella needs.
The husband who loves you so much it's honestly embarrassing. "
"It really is," Knox mutters.
"Shut up, Knox," several people say in unison.
Piper's crying harder now, and I'm pretty sure I'm making it worse, but I keep going.
"I love you. I've loved you since that first week you spent away from here and studied wildflowers just to impress me. I'll love you when we're old and gray and Isabella's bringing home terrible boyfriends I'll have to scare off. I'll love you forever, Chicago. You and me. Forever Friday."
She's full-on sobbing now, and I'm not far behind.
The officiant looks at Piper. "Piper, your vows?"
She wipes her face, takes a shaky breath, and somehow finds her voice.
"Chase Morrison, you absolute disaster of a man."
Everyone laughs, including me. She steps closer, and I can smell her perfume, the special one occasions like this.
"You taught me that home isn't a place. It's a person.
It's you, holding me on a mountainside. It's Isabelle, always messy and still perfect.
It's this town, this meadow, this life we built together.
" Her voice breaks. "You're my home, Chase.
My safe place. My forever. And I promise to choose you every single day.
To be your partner in this beautiful, messy, perfect life. "
I'm done. Completely wrecked.
"I love you," she whispers. "So much."
"I love you too."
"Rings!" Isabella announces, apparently deciding we've had enough time for mushy stuff.
She marches forward with her basket, reaches in, and pulls out…
A gummy bear ring pop.
The crowd erupts in laughter.
"Isabella, darling," Piper says, trying not to laugh. "Where's Daddy's real ring?"
Our daughter looks genuinely confused. "This is the real ring. Daddy loves gummy bears."
"She's not wrong," I say, taking the ring pop. "This is perfect, sweetheart. Thank you."
Brooke, bless her, steps forward with the actual rings. Two simple gold bands we picked out together last month.
But I'm definitely keeping the ring pop.
We exchange the real rings, our hands shaking, and then the officiant's pronouncing us husband and wife, and I'm pulling Piper close, dipping her back like we're in some old movie, and kissing her while Wildflower Meadow erupts in cheers.
"Finally!" Etta shouts. "We've been working on this for five years!"
"We did this!" Mabel adds. "This was all us!"
"Sure it was," I murmur against Piper's lips.
"Let them have it," she whispers back. "They've earned it."
When I finally pull back, Piper's flushed and grinning, and Isabella's jumping up and down yelling, "Mama and Daddy kissed! Gross!"
Betty appears with the three-tier cake shaped like... heart-shaped pancakes.
"Betty," Piper breathes. "Is that—"
"Heart-shaped pancake wedding cake!" Betty announces proudly. "With real maple syrup filling! Don't look at me like that, he ordered it."
"I love you," I tell Betty. "And yes, I did."
"Everyone loves me, dear. Now go celebrate with your wife."
Wife.
Piper Morrison.
My wife.
I'm still processing that when arms wrap around me from behind, and a familiar voice says, "Congratulations, big brother."
I spin around, and there's Lily. She's always taller than I remember, maybe because I've spent so long picturing her as the sixteen-year-old that I never got to spend more time with.
But now, with her blonde hair in a neat bun, her husband beside her looking apologetic about the delay, it feels like all of that is forgotten.
"You made it," I say, pulling her into a hug.
"Of course I made it. I wasn't missing this." She pulls back, eyes shining. "You look happy, Chase."
"I am. I really am."
And it's true. Standing here in Wildflower Meadow with Piper's hand in mine, Isabella spinning in circles nearby, my sister finally here, my friends surrounding us…
I'm happy.
The kind of deep-down, bone-settled happy I never thought I'd find.
Sure, life handed me shitty moments. It handed me abandonment, and failure, and years of feeling like I wasn't enough.
But it also handed me this.
Piper squeezes my hand, I look at her, my wife, and smile.
"Yeah, baby. I'm perfect."
The party spills into the evening, laughter and music filling the meadow as the storm clouds roll past without dropping a single raindrop. Charlie's cocktails flow, Betty's cake disappears, and somewhere in the chaos, Isabelle convinces half the rescue team to teach her how to tie knots.
And I stand there, watching it all, finally understanding what it means to be loved.
Not because I earned it.
Not because I proved myself.
Just because I'm me.
– THE END –