EPILOGUE
Davis
Cupping Sophia’s face in my hands, I bend down to meet her in a bruising kiss, fusing my lips to hers. Her arms wrap around my neck, her hands tangling into my hair before we separate.
“Is this the craziest thing we’ve ever done?” She asks.
“I dunno,” I shrug, “I’ve done some shit with my big toe that might have this beat, but it’s a close second.”
The crisp white of her bikini makes her tan look even deeper, which just serves to make the seafoam of her eyes look even more fucking unreal.
If I could pause a moment in time to log away in my mind forever, it would be this one, right here.
I could stare at her, lit up like an angel on the beach under the Florida sun, for the rest of my fucking life.
Sophia presses her palms to my chest, running her thumbs over my piercings while she gets up on the tips of her toes to kiss me again. “We’re really gonna be late now,” she laughs. “They’re gonna be mad.”
“They’ll be fine, Sugar.”
We trek back to our cabana, not more than a couple minutes away from us, and I pick up a small cardboard envelope, folded in at the sides. Grabbing my phone from the table in front of us, I scroll through my contacts and pull up FaceTime.
“Hey, asshole,” Colt says from the screen of my phone. “You’re late.”
“Sorry ‘bout that,” I tell him as Sophia sticks her left hand in front of the camera, showing off her ring, “we decided to get married real quick first.”
Rowan can be heard screaming ‘what?!’ in the background as she rushes toward the phone, and I think a vein in Colt’s neck might burst. “Bullshit,” he challenges.
I hold up my own left hand, showing off a silver band wrapped around my finger before panning to the officiant still walking along the beach. “Not bullshit, old man. Just did it five minutes ago.”
“It was a beach wedding,” Sophia adds with a giggle.
“Wait!” Rowan shouts, snatching the phone from Colt’s hands. “I wanna see!”
Sophia snatches the phone from me and walks off, gushing to her friend about our late-night decision to come out here instead of flying back to Texas, and god knows what else. She’s gone for fifteen minutes while I sip on champagne and wait for her. Not much else I can do, she has my fuckin’ phone.
I watch her pace up and down the beach while she talks, her hair blowing every now and again in the warm breeze that passes through, and I shake my head with a smile.
I’m wrapped so tight around that girl’s finger, sometimes I can’t believe it. I never thought I’d be the guy who stuck with one woman, let alone got married. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to sleep without the TV on or be alone in the quiet, either, but she changed that, too.
“Okay, we’re ready,” she tells me when she finally comes back.
“You got her?”
Colt holds up a cardboard envelope of his own, showing it to me. “We’ve got her.”
We walk closer to the edge of the water before I pop open the end of my envelope, holding it out in front of me. “Alright, on three.”
“One…”
“Two…”
Sophia’s free hand wraps itself in mine. “Three.”
In unison, we each tip our envelopes over, letting the grey ash fall out, carried across the beach on the wind.
Even after our envelopes are emptied, the four of us stand in quiet for a few long moments.
Colt eventually lets out a sigh, saying, “She was a truly wonderful woman.”
“I think she’d like this,” Sophia says.
I let out a hard laugh, Colt joining me. “Nah, she’d fuckin’ hate it on the beach,” I tell her. “But she’d wanna be here for this.”
We spend the next half hour laughing and sharing stories; like the time that Colt flew back home with me and Martina made her famous sweet tea.
Colt hadn’t had it before, so he wasn’t prepared when he tried it.
His face pinched together tight enough it could have gotten stuck, and Martina gave him hell about it the entire weekend.
That same night, we’d gone out to the same bar that I took Sophia to and man, did we get hammered.
The only thing I remember from that night was calling home to ask for a ride – trying to be responsible adults for once – and Martina showed up, sure, but she had us walk home, trailing behind the truck.
Martina made it another month after Sophia and I visited before she died.
Bill said it was quick, in her sleep, and that helped.
I still wish I’d been there, though, just as much as I wish she could have really met my girl.
She’d have fuckin’ loved Sophia. They’d probably get into all kinds of trouble, sassing the wrong people – each other, included.
She would be proud today.
I hope I made her proud.
I stand behind my wife, wrapping my arms around her, and I kiss her head before resting my chin on top of it while we watch the water in front of us lap at the shore, falling back into itself.
This wasn’t what I planned for myself; I figured I’d go out mixing a bunch of drugs at a party – which could still totally happen.
I didn’t think I’d ever know what my best friend felt when he looked at his wife.
I never expected to find someone that wanted to share this life with me, not changing me, not asking me to cool it or tone it down.
I didn’t think that person existed, but she blew into my life like a fucking hurricane and turned me upside down ten ways to Sunday.
And this is just the beginning.
I reach for Sophia’s chin, tilting her head back to look up at me.
“Do me a favor, Sugar,” I tell her.
“What?”
“Run.”