epilogue #2
I stood at the altar with Charlie to my right in the officiant’s space.
Stella caught my eye from the back, giving me a thumbs-up.
Bristol Rhew, the librarian Harrison had become close with these past several months, was in the third row, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue even though nothing had happened yet.
Then the music started—something instrumental and pretty that Harrison had picked—and Jemma appeared at the top of the aisle.
She was wearing a flowing dress in some shade of dusty blue that probably had a fancy name I didn’t know, with a crown of flowers in her hair.
Very soft and romantic, and a little bit bohemian.
When she reached me, she kissed my cheek and stood on my left.
Then Gavin, with Maggie and Lilah’s arms linked through his, started down the aisle, leading them to the front row, where we’d reserved seats for our family—both blood and found.
Next, Eli appeared with Sugarplum on a lead, a wreath of flowers around her neck, and a small basket attached to her back containing our rings. Eli looked so serious, so focused on his job, that I almost laughed. Almost.
They made it halfway before Sugarplum lunged toward a basket of wildflowers hanging from one of the chairs that lined the aisle. Eli caught her just in time, redirecting her toward the aisle while the guests laughed. By the time they reached the altar, Eli was red-faced but triumphant.
“Good job,” I whispered as he handed Sugarplum’s lead to Jemma and took his place beside Gavin in the front row.
That was when Harrison appeared.
He walked alone—his family wasn’t invited, and he didn’t need anyone to give him away. His eyes found mine immediately, and he smiled that smile that had been mine since we were sixteen years old, even when I’d been too stupid to claim it.
When he reached me, I took his hands.
Charlie cleared his throat. “We’re gathered here today to witness Jeremy and Harrison make promises to each other. Promises of forever, of love, of partnership. They’ve written their own vows, so I’m going to let them speak.”
He nodded at me. “Jeremy?”
I’d practiced this moment. Stood in front of my bathroom mirror at five o’clock in the morning running through the words. But now, looking at Harrison, everything I’d planned to say flew out of my head.
So I spoke from the heart instead and hoped I’d remember it later.
“Harrison,” I began, my voice shaking. “I loved you when we were kids, and I love you now. I’ll love you when we’re ninety.
” My throat grew tight, but I pushed through.
“I’m sorry it took me seventeen years to come back to you, but I’m not going anywhere ever again.
You’re my first love and my last love. You’re home. You’ve always been my home.”
Harrison’s eyes were shining with tears, his hands trembling in mine.
“I promise to chase these damn goats with you,” I continued, getting a laugh from the crowd.
“To eat your carbonara even when you insist on using guanciale instead of pancetta. To take photos of you until you’re sick of seeing yourself through my lens.
To love you openly, proudly, and without apology. Forever.”
“Forever,” Harrison repeated, his voice barely a whisper.
Charlie nodded at him. “And Harrison?”
Harrison took a breath, steadying himself. When he spoke, his voice was clear and true.
“Jeremy Price, you were my first kiss and my first love. My first everything that mattered. You’re also my second chance, my coming home, my finally getting it right.
I wasted seventeen years trying to move on from you, trying to convince myself that what we had was just teenage infatuation. But it wasn’t. It never was.”
He squeezed my hands.
“I promise to make you carbonara whenever you want it. To let you photograph me even when I’m covered in goat hair and haven’t showered. To build a life with you here, in this town, on our farms. To love you through everything—the good, the bad, and the chaos.” His smile widened. “Forever.”
“Forever,” I agreed.
Charlie was wiping his eyes when he cleared his throat. “And now the exchanging of rings.”
Eli retrieved the basket from Sugarplum’s back and handed the rings to Charlie.
“These rings are symbols of the promises you’re making to one another,” he said, handing Harrison’s ring to me. “Jeremy, repeat after me: With this ring, I thee wed.”
“With this ring, I thee wed.” I slid the simple gold band onto Harrison’s finger.
Charlie handed my ring to Harrison. “And now Harrison, repeat after me: With this ring, I thee wed.”
“With this ring, I thee wed.” Harrison's hands were shaking as he slid the ring onto my finger.
Charlie smiled. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you married. You may—”
I didn’t wait for him to finish. I pulled Harrison to me and kissed him while our friends and family cheered and Sugarplum bleated and someone’s camera flashed.
We were married.
Actually fucking married.
The reception was exactly what we’d wanted—casual, fun, and full of the people we loved.
Colin’s band filled the space with music that ranged from classic rock to current hits.
Emmy Alder’s cake was a masterpiece—three tiers with fresh flowers and a tiny fondant goat on top that made everyone laugh.
Stella’s beer flowed freely, and Harrison’s cheese spread was so popular that we nearly ran out within the first hour.
We were talking to Bristol, who was gushing about how beautiful the ceremony had been, when I heard my sister shriek.
We turned to see Kringle standing on the cheese table, happily munching on what was left of Harrison’s prized chèvre.
“Is that …” Bristol stared, slack-jawed.
“Cannibalism?” Stella offered, appearing beside us with a beer in hand. “Technically, yes.”
I couldn’t help it. I broke out laughing. Harrison joined in a second later, and both of us doubled over while Jemma and Charlie tried to wrangle the goat away from the table.
“This is perfect,” Harrison said, wiping tears from his eyes. “This is so perfectly us.”
“Yeah, it is.” I pulled him close, kissing his temple. “Husband.”
His face lit up at the word. “Say it again.”
“Husband.”
“I’m never going to get tired of that.”
“Good, because I plan on saying it until we’re old and gray.”
We moved to our table and watched as Jemma and Charlie successfully wrangled Kringle back into his pen, the guests laughing and taking photos of the chaos.
I wondered if this would end up on social media, too.
Eventually, someone—Colin, maybe—called out that it was time for toasts.
I stood, tapping my glass with a fork until the crowd quieted. Harrison was beside me, his hand warm in mine.
“I’m not very good with words,” I started, earning a few knowing chuckles. “But I’m going to try my damnedest to do this right. First, thank you all for being here. It means everything to me and Harrison that you’d celebrate with us today."
I glanced at Jemma, who had started crying again.
“Thank you to my sister and Charlie for being the best family a man could ask for. For welcoming Harrison into that family—for supporting us, for showing us what it looks like to build a life with someone you love … even if it took a while to get there.”
I looked down at my wrist, at my dad’s watch.
“My parents aren’t here today, but I feel them.
I know they’d be happy to see this man beside me.
Proud.” My voice cracked slightly, and I turned to Harrison.
His eyes were already wet. “They loved Harrison like a second son. I think they knew before I did that we were meant to be.”
Harrison’s hand tightened in mine.
“Most importantly,” I continued. “Thank you to my husband …” I had to pause because saying it out loud, in front of everyone, made it feel real in a way nothing else had until now—not even our vows.
“Thank you for coming back to Mistletoe Bay. For loving me even when I was an insufferable bastard. For being patient while I figured my shit out.”
The crowd laughed.
“To my husband,” I said, raising my glass. “And to forever.”
“To forever,” our guests echoed.
Harrison took the mic from me. “I’m going to keep this short because I’m already crying and we haven’t even cut the cake yet,” he started, getting a few laughs.
“Thank you to this town for welcoming me back, for accepting us, for showing me what community really means.” He glanced at my sister with a wide smirk.
“Thank you to Jemma for being an excellent schemer and forcing her grumpy brother to take my photo. I owe our entire relationship to your meddling.”
Jemma laughed, wiping at her eyes.
Harrison turned back to me. “And thank you to Jeremy for choosing me every day since that photoshoot.”
His voice got softer as he raised his glass. “To forever.”
“To forever," I repeated, kissing him while everyone cheered.
The opening notes of Hozier’s “Better Love” filled the air, and I pulled Harrison onto the makeshift dance floor. We'd spent weeks debating our first dance song. The first time he’d played it for me, I’d listened to the lyrics and nodded as soon as the last note sounded.
“Yeah,” I’d said. “That’s the one.”
Now, as I held him close, swaying under the string lights with everyone watching, I understood why it had felt right.
Something about second chances and finding your way home.
About the reverence of real love, the kind that chases you through years and distance and everything that tries to keep you apart.
We swayed together, and I realized this was what I’d wanted at seventeen. This exact moment—dancing with Harrison at our prom, in front of everyone, no hiding, no shame. We’d missed that chance, but we had it now.
And that was enough.
When the song ended, I didn’t let go right away. Just held him close, breathing him in, feeling grateful in a way I’d never felt before.
“Best day of my life,” he murmured.
I kissed his temple. “First of many.”
“Mmm. Love you, husband.”
“Love you, too.”