epilogue
JEREMY
Seven Months Later
I’d worn this tie exactly three times in my life before today. Once at prom. Once for my mom’s funeral. And then again for my dad’s.
Now I was wearing it for my wedding.
“Hold still,” Jemma said, her fingers working the Windsor knot with the kind of efficiency that came from years of tying Eli’s ties. “You’re fidgeting.”
“I’m not fidgeting.”
“You’ve been fidgety since you woke up.” She pulled the knot snug, then smoothed down my lapels. “There. Perfect.”
I caught my reflection in the mirror in her bedroom—navy blue suit, crisp white shirt, and the tie Jemma insisted I wear even though I’d only ever worn it on sad occasions.
I looked … genuinely, stupidly happy.
“You look so handsome,” she said softly, her eyes glinting with that telltale shine that said she was going to cry again. “Mom and Dad would be so proud.”
My throat tightened. I glanced down at my wrist, at the watch I’d strapped on half an hour earlier. My dad’s watch. The one he’d worn every day of his life until the day he died. The second hand ticked steadily forward toward my future, one I never thought I’d get to have.
“He would’ve loved this,” I said quietly. “Both of them would have.”
Jemma’s hand landed on my shoulder, and she squeezed it gently. “They’re here with us. You know that, right?”
I’d never believed in God. Still didn’t. Jemma tried for years because Todd shoved God down her throat, but even she was shaky on the whole heaven-and-hell thing now.
But here—in this house—our parents felt close.
Not floating-around-in-the-clouds close. Just … present.
Their presence was everywhere. In the walls they’d painted a dozen times. The floor Dad had patched more times than I remembered. The beams that creaked the same way they always had.
It wasn’t spiritual. It was history.
It was them.
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
The sound of tires on gravel pulled our attention to the window. Eli’s boyfriend Gavin’s Jeep was pulling up, Sugarplum’s head sticking out the back window like she was a damn dog.
That goat would do anything for Gavin. It was the weirdest thing I’d ever seen—like Sugarplum had decided this one human was hers and everyone else could go to hell. If a goat could fall in love with a person, Gavin was definitely Sugarplum’s person.
Harrison tried to act like it didn’t bother him—especially since she was secretly his favorite—but he was definitely put out by it.
“That’s my cue,” Jemma said, wiping quickly at her eyes. “Love you, little brother.” She patted my chest a few times.
“Love you, too,” I called after her as she left me alone in her room.
I heard the sound of the front door opening, then Eli’s voice and Gavin’s deeper rumble. I took one more look in the mirror, straightened my cuffs, and headed down.
Jemma was in the kitchen with the boys, helping Eli with his tie.
“Don’t feel bad,” I told him as I entered the room. “I watched like twelve videos, and I still had to have your mom help me.”
Eli looked dapper and surprisingly grown-up, while Gavin watched on with obvious amusement, his royal blue suit sleek and fashionable.
The kid reminded me so much of Harrison at that age, it was almost eerie.
Not the hiding-in-the-closet part—thank God Eli and Gavin got to skip that particular hell—but everything else.
Both he and Harrison were pretty-boy star athletes who took their appearance seriously, who understood that how you presented yourself mattered.
I’d noticed over the past few months that Gavin gravitated toward Harrison at family gatherings, the two of them talking about brands and fits and fabrics while the rest of us talked about anything but that.
It made sense in a way. Everyone in Gavin’s family was salt-of-the-earth, practical people who wore jeans and flannel and didn’t give a damn about fashion.
Harrison got him in a way his own family probably didn’t.
“You look good,” Gavin said, eyeing my outfit with approval. “Nervous?”
“Terrified,” I admitted, bracing my hands on the back of a chair. “But the good kind of terrified.”
Eli grinned. “The I’m-about-to-marry-the-love-of-my-life kind?” His eyes flicked briefly to Gavin before coming back to me.
The quick, almost unconscious glance at the person he loved hit me square in the chest. If Gavin was like Harrison, then Eli was more like me.
Moon-eyed and so completely gone for his boyfriend.
Except, unlike me, he got to be open about it.
Got to look at Gavin without fear. Didn’t have to hide his feelings for fear of someone figuring it out.
“Exactly that.” I cleared my throat.
“Where’s Sugarplum?” I asked, glancing toward the door.
“In her pen,” Eli said. “Already brushed and ready to go. She’s been surprisingly well-behaved all morning.”
“Don’t jinx it.”
“Too late,” Gavin said with a grin. “He’s been saying that all morning. She’s definitely going to eat someone’s boutonniere now.”
The four of us headed outside, where the farm had been transformed.
String lights were strung between two rows of trees—the same ones we’d put up for the holiday event seven months ago and never bothered taking down.
White chairs were arranged in neat rows facing a simple wooden arch wrapped in wildflowers.
The July sun was bright and hot, nothing like the cold December day when Harrison and I had chased goats through the snow and fallen into each other’s arms.
“Uncle Jeremy?” Eli’s voice pulled me back.
“Yeah?”
“I just wanted to say …” He paused, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed. “Thanks for showing me what it looks like—two guys loving each other without apologizing for it.”
If only he knew how hard it had been to get here. How we almost hadn’t.
My chest went tight. “Eli.”
“I mean it.” He glanced at Gavin, who was laughing at something Jemma and Charlie were saying to him. “When I first started figuring things out, I was scared. About what it would mean, about whether I’d get to have what everyone else has. But watching you and Harrison, you showed me it’s possible.”
I pulled him into a hug, probably wrinkling both our suits, but not giving a damn. “You’re going to have everything you want, kid. You and Gavin both.”
When we broke apart, his eyes were bright. “We’re excited about Thackeray. And about the cabin.”
“It’s yours for as long as you need it,” I told him. “Forty-five minutes is close enough to come home for laundry and your Mom’s cooking, but far enough that you get your independence.”
“And privacy,” Gavin added as he rejoined us with a smirk.
I pointed at him. “I do not want to know.”
“Yes, sir,” he said, stifling a laugh.
My sister’s new husband found me a few minutes later, standing at the edge of the field, staring at the spot where Harrison and I would say our vows.
“Big moment,” Charlie said, coming to stand beside me.
“Yeah.”
“You ready?”
I looked at him, this man who’d become a friend to me over the past year, who’d welcomed me into his family without question. And who’d agreed to officiate our wedding without hesitation.
“I feel like I’ve been ready for a long fucking time,” I answered honestly.
Truth was, I would’ve dragged Harrison down to the justice of the peace the day after we said “I love you” and called it done. But he deserved more than that. He deserved a ceremony, vows spoken out loud in front of our friends and loved ones, a celebration of what we were to each other.
Harrison had spent his whole young life here hiding. Who he loved. How he felt. What his father did to him behind closed doors.
But not today. Today, I was going to stand beside him in front of this entire town and make damn sure everyone knew exactly how I felt about him.
“I know exactly what you mean.” Charlie clapped me on the shoulder. His gaze scanned the field beyond, presumably to find Jemma. “For the record, marrying folks is my favorite part of being mayor.”
“Even when it’s two stubborn idiots who took too long to get their shit together?”
“Especially then.”
The wedding was supposed to start at four o’clock on the dot, but at three forty, Harrison texted me.
Harrison
Meet me in your barn?
Jeremy
Isn’t it bad luck to see each other before the wedding?
Harrison
That only applies to brides.
Since we’re both grooms, we get off on a technicality.
I huffed out a laugh. Leave it to Harrison to find a loophole in wedding superstitions.
Jeremy
On my way.
I found him in the same place we’d hidden as teenagers, stealing kisses whenever we could. He was standing in a shaft of sunlight coming through a high window, and when he turned around, I forgot how to breathe.
He was wearing a sleek Tom Ford suit because, of course, he was. Perfectly tailored, extremely expensive, looking like he’d stepped out of a magazine. But it was the color that got me—a green so deep it was almost black. My favorite color.
“Hey,” he said, his voice soft.
“Hey, yourself.” I crossed to him, my hands finding his waist automatically as my eyes drank him in. “You look …”
“You too.” His fingers brushed over my lapels. “Navy blue.”
“Your favorite.”
For a moment, we just stood there, holding each other in the quiet barn, the sounds of guests arriving and Stella’s brother Colin and his band filtering in from outside.
“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” Harrison whispered.
“Having second thoughts?”
“God, no.” He looked up at me, his eyes bright. “I just … I can’t believe we almost didn’t get this. That we wasted so much time.”
I cupped his face in my hands. “We’re here now. That’s what matters.”
“Yeah.” He leaned into my touch. “We’re here now.”
“Ready?” I asked.
He smiled that full, genuine smile that still made my chest tight every time I saw it. “Been ready.”