54. Epilogue One
Epilogue One
JACKSON
A fternoon light slants through the window, painting golden stripes across the floor. I stand in the groom’s suite, straightening my tie for what feels like the tenth time.
Outside, leaves rustle: reds, golds, and burnt oranges shifting in the breeze. There’s a crispness in the air that settles into your bones in the best way.
I stare at my reflection, breathing slow. A boyish excitement hums in my veins, so strong it feels like I could float.
For a moment, my mind drifts to Claire. It’s not a heavy ache anymore. Just a soft warmth, like a hand on my shoulder. I can almost hear her teasing me about my tie. Deep down, I feel she’d want this for me: this joy, this future.
A crash jolts me back. I turn to find the boys in their tiny suits, practically vibrating with energy. Russo is crouched beside them, holding what’s left of a boutonniere and wearing a look of amused horror.
“Sorry!” Liam blurts. “We were practicing our serious walk!”
Russo holds up the crushed flower. “Your kids are absolute maniacs, Jacks. I love them.”
I laugh. Miss Taylor appears with a fresh boutonniere and a sigh. “Try not to let them destroy this one, please.”
My mom follows, smoothing the boys’ hair. Her eyes are misty but bright. When she turns to me, she pauses before stepping forward, fixing my tie one last time.
“You look so handsome,” she says. “Your dad would be so proud.”
I swallow hard and cover her hands with mine. “Thanks, Ma.”
Upstairs, I hear a burst of laughter. Ava’s voice mixing with Jenna’s and her mom’s. I picture her there, dark hair curling over her shoulders, probably making jokes to distract herself from the nerves.
A warm certainty settles low in my chest, solid and unmoving.
This is it. This is my family. My forever.
The venue hums with quiet anticipation as guests begin to arrive. The air is cool but pleasant, the breeze stirring the early fall leaves that drift across the lawn like confetti.
Soft music plays in the background, weaving through the quiet greetings and low laughter that echo around the outdoor space.
I scan the rows as guests settle, adjusting my cufflinks even though they’re already straight.
My mom appears first, her steps steady but her eyes already glassy with emotion. She closes the last few feet between us and takes both my hands, squeezing them tight.
“You ready?” she asks, her voice trembling but proud.
I nod once, unable to keep the smile off my face. “Yeah. I’ve never been more ready for anything.”
Her eyes glisten, and she pulls me into a quick, firm hug. When she steps away, she keeps one hand on my cheek for a second longer before moving off to find her seat.
Greg is next, weaving through the small clusters of guests. He doesn’t hesitate, just pulls me into a quick, solid hug and slaps my back hard enough to knock the breath out of me.
“Take care of her,” he says gruffly.
I nod, throat thick.
He turns toward the back where their mom is waiting. He offers her his arm and starts to walk her slowly up the aisle, gently guiding her to her seat.
Liam and Noah bounce back toward me, cheeks flushed with excitement. They’re nearly vibrating as I crouch down to straighten their small jackets.
“Ready?” I ask, crouching down.
“We practiced!” Liam says, eyes wide. “We didn’t even fall this time!”
Noah nods fiercely, gripping the tiny pillows with white-knuckled determination. “We’re gonna do it perfect.”
I ruffle their hair, pressing a quick kiss to each forehead. “You’re gonna crush it,” I say.
Behind me, Miss Taylor stands with her hands clasped, her expression soft and a little misty as she watches the boys.
I stand again, glancing toward the entryway. Guests are settling into their seats now, soft murmurs blending with the rustling leaves.
I draw in a slow breath, rolling my shoulders back.
Any second now.
As the last guests settle, my heart hammers slow and deep in my chest. Sunlight cuts through the trees, casting a warm glow over the aisle lined with fall flowers.
I take a breath and let my gaze scan the rows of people. Familiar faces, old teammates, family, friends. Each one is wearing the kind of gentle, knowing smile that feels like an unspoken blessing.
The boys shuffle into place nearby, fidgeting with their small suits, eyes darting everywhere. Russo gives me a mock salute from his seat, and I bite back a laugh.
Then the music changes.
I look up, and there she is.
Ava steps into view, her hand wrapped gently around her father’s arm. Her dress moves like water, soft and elegant, and even from here I can see the slight curve of her bump beneath the fabric. Her free hand hovers protectively over it.
Her dad leans in, saying something only she can hear, and she laughs softly, her eyes shining.
She looks up then, her gaze locking on mine.
Everything else fades away.
It’s just her.
My mind flashes back to all of it: her peeking around corners as a kid with a book in her hands, her vulnerability and quiet strength since she left everything behind, every small moment that led us here.
Ava’s steps are slow but sure as she comes closer, her father pausing just before the front to squeeze her hand one last time. There’s a quiet exchange between them, a nod, a whispered word, and then he lets go.
She closes the last few steps on her own, her eyes never leaving mine.
A wide, unguarded grin breaks across my face. My chest feels full, almost too full, of love, relief, and the impossible rightness of this moment.
She finally stops in front of me, her eyes shimmering, the corners of her smile trembling slightly.
“Hi,” she whispers, almost like a secret.
“Hi,” I breathe back, voice low and rough.
Ava looks at me with soft, unwavering certainty.
The officiant begins speaking, but I barely hear it. My focus is locked on her, on us.
Any nerves I had melt away like ice under the sun.
This is it.
Ava’s hand trembles slightly as she takes mine, and I squeeze gently, grounding us both.
The officiant gives us a nod. I take a breath and begin.
“Ava,” I say, my voice already thick. “I’ve been looking out for you since we were kids, back when you’d trail after us with a book in your hands… And now here we are, writing our own story together.”
Ava’s shoulders shake, her eyes glistening.
“You brought light back into my life when I didn’t even know I needed it. You made me believe in a future I thought I’d lost.”
I swallow hard, trying to hold steady.
“You are my friend, my family, and the love of my life. I promise to keep choosing you, every single day. To protect you, stand beside you, and build this messy, beautiful life together with the boys, our new baby, and all the chaos that comes with it.”
Ava’s tears spill over, and she laughs softly, nodding like she’s feeling every word right along with me.
She draws a shaky breath, then starts.
“Jackson,” she says, her voice trembling but sure. “I spent so long believing I had to earn love, to shape myself into someone else's idea of perfect. You showed me what it feels like to be chosen exactly as I am.”
She pauses, smiling through the tears.
“You’ve always been my protector, my safe place. Thank you for seeing me, for believing in me, for loving every part of this wild life we’re building.”
She smiles through her tears. “I promise to stand with you, to raise our family with all the love and laughter this world can hold.”
A small rustle beside us: Noah leans a bit too far forward, nearly tipping over. Liam grabs him just in time, both of them letting out giggles that ripple through the guests.
Ava laughs too, wiping at her cheeks, and even I chuckle. The tension breaks, replaced with something warm and effervescent.
The officiant pauses, smiling faintly.
“And now, Jackson, do you—”
“I do,” I blurt, too fast to wait. Laughter erupts around us.
The officiant turns to her, amusement crinkling his eyes. “Ava?”
“I do,” she says, steady and sure.
“You may kiss the bride.”
I pull her in, one hand cradling her jaw. Her hands clutch my shoulders as we kiss: deep, certain, the culmination of every step that brought us here.
Cheers erupt all around us, the boys yelling loudest of all.
I pull back, both of us laughing, breathing hard, eyes wet with tears.
Later, after the cake’s been cut, Jenna stands to give the first toast: glass in hand, eyes shining as she looks between us.
“To Ava,” she begins, her voice clear and full of emotion. “Who has always been braver than she knows, and stronger than she ever gives herself credit for. And to Jackson: thank you for seeing her, for loving her in that big, unwavering way we all prayed she’d find.”
Ava squeezes my hand beneath the table, her eyes shining.
Jenna raises her glass, her voice going bright with humor. “And to the boys, for teaching us all that loud love is the best kind.”
Everyone laughs and raises their glasses.
Then Greg stands up, tugging at his tie. “Ava, you’ve always been my constant. Jackson, my best friend. Seeing you two together… feels like the universe got one right.”
For a moment, no one says anything. The tent is quiet except for a few sniffles and the soft rustle of tissues.
Then the music picks up, a mellow acoustic song. My mom appears beside me, her dress a soft blue that matches the early evening sky.
“Dance with me, sweetheart,” she says, her voice gentle but sure.
I take her hand without hesitation, guiding her onto the small dance floor. We sway slowly, her head resting lightly against my shoulder for a moment.
“You know,” she murmurs, voice full of emotion, “this is everything your dad and I ever wanted for you. He would have loved her.”
My throat thickens, but I manage to nod, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I know,” I whisper.
When we step back, she cups my face and smiles through her tears.
Russo grabs the mic, grinning, then holds up a SteelClaws jersey with "WIFEY #1" across the back.
“Welcome to the team, Ava!” he yells, making her laugh so hard she nearly chokes on her sparkling water.
The boys rush to her, giggling about “baby dance moves” as they crowd around her belly.
I pause, just for a moment, taking it all in: my wife glowing, our boys laughing, our friends and family smiling, and all the messy, beautiful pieces of this life coalescing into something that feels larger than anything I ever imagined.
Warmth spreads through my chest.
Later, after the laughter and dancing and the last slices of cake disappeared, Ava and I slip away from the tent.
The fall evening is crisp. I shrug out of my jacket, draping it around her shoulders.
She smiles at me, her hair a little messy from dancing, her cheeks still flushed.
We wander a few steps into the clearing behind the venue, where fairy lights strung through the trees cast a soft, golden glow.
I step closer, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. My fingers linger against her cheek, and she leans into my touch without hesitation.
“How’re you holding up, Mrs. Hart?” I ask, my voice low and warm.
She looks at me, cheeks flushed, her expression soft in that happy, full way.
“Better than I ever imagined,” she murmurs. Her fingers slip into mine, steady and sure.
I rest my other hand lightly on her stomach. “I can’t wait to meet our baby,” I say softly, my thumb tracing gentle circles. “And to do all of this, every messy, beautiful day, with you.”
Her eyes shimmer in the glow of the lights. “I still can’t believe this is real,” she whispers.
“It is,” I say, leaning forward until our foreheads touch. “You. Me. The boys. This little one. It’s all ours.”
She tilts her face up, and I kiss her, slow and deep, sealing everything we’ve said and everything we haven’t.
When we finally pull back, she brushes her nose against mine, a small, private laugh catching in her throat.
“I love you,” she whispers.
“I love you, too.”
She presses her head against my chest, and I wrap my arms fully around her, holding her, and the tiny heartbeat between us, as the world goes still.
And in that quiet, I know, this isn’t the beginning. It’s the next page in the life we’ve been building all along.
Our family. Our future. Our forever.