Chapter 42
Tuck
The altar is a rocky ledge; the décor a smattering of folding chairs beneath a canopy of branches.
Wildflowers tucked into mason jars. Sunshine filtering through the trees in golden ribbons. And behind us, a backdrop straight out of a wilderness guidebook: granite boulders softened by moss, lake water so clear it reflects the sky like glass, and mountains standing sentinel in the distance.
And the music? Not a string quartet or pre-set playlist—just the symphony of this place. Birds trading verses in the trees. Wind rustling through leaves. The soft, steady hush of water meeting shore.
It’s not grand. It’s not choreographed. But it’s perfect.
Just like her.
The girl who used to beat me at debate club and steal the best treats in my lunchbox. The woman who inspired me to strive to be better. To win at life just to impress her. Who, from day one, turned my whole damn world on its axis. Who’s scared of being broken but brave enough to stand here, heart open, asking me to build something permanent.
Our people are here. Mom already dabbing her eyes—Dad blinking rapidly so as not to follow. Pen’s dad looking like he could burst with pride. Friends from every chapter of our lives—laughing, crying, holding hands, stealing glances at one another like they can’t believe this is actually happening. And neither can I.
But it is.
It’s happening. Even if we’re piecing it together as we go along.
We haven’t even planned our vows.
Yet the words come like I’ve been practicing for this moment my whole life.
Maybe I have.
I hold her hands in mine. Stare into her shining dark eyes. And tell her how I feel.
“Penelope.” I begin, feeling the whole world narrow to the space between us. “You never make anything easy. You complicate everything. Challenge every assumption, question every norm, push every boundary.
“You’ll scour the earth to find the most sustainable products, scrutinize ingredient lists like an environmental scientist, work your designs to a level of perfection that surpasses most mortals. Not just because you obsess over the details. But because you care about the bigger picture, too. You refuse shortcuts that go against your values, and you stand your ground like a damn mountain when anyone tries to sway you.”
Pen bites her lip, shaking her head with a mock-wince. But her fingers squeeze mine a little tighter.
“You love a good argument,” I add. “Mostly because you always win them.”
Laughter fills the air around us. She smiles, rolling her big brown eyes.
“And yet—loving you has been the easiest thing I’ve ever done. You make me strive to be better. You call me out and call me forward. And standing here, right now, knowing I get to partner with you on every challenge that lies ahead?”
I swallow against the rising emotions. “It’s like you’ve taken the map of my life and redrawn it completely—only this time, it’s filled with a thousand new paths I never even imagined. And I want to walk every one of them with you.”
She blinks, trying to hold back the tears. One escapes anyway, sliding down her cheek before she speaks. But when her voice comes, it’s calm and assured.
“Tuck—my incredibly patient, thoughtful, lionhearted…soon-to-be husband …”
Whoops of excitement erupt at the word, and my heart just…flips inside out at hearing her using it for the first time.
Husband .
Pen gives a sidelong glance, playing the crowd. “But,” she says with a grin, “let’s not get carried away. He’s not that perfect. He has plenty of flaws, too. Just so you know.”
She turns back to me, feigning a grimace. “Okay, fine. He doesn’t. He is actually pretty damn perfect. I know—because I tested the theory. Repeatedly. With levels of difficulty no sane person would have tolerated.”
The laughter now is knowing, affectionate. And I nod—because yeah, that’s true. And I’d do it all again.
“And the fact that you love me anyway?” Her eyes glint. “That’s what gives me faith that we can actually pull this off. That this crazy, unpredictable game of life is one we’re meant to play together.”
Her voice softens. “Because I know love isn’t a fairytale. That it requires risk, bravery, and determination. It takes teamwork. And bucketloads of trust. That’s why I pick you, Tuck. For every round. Every level. Every unexpected challenge. There is no one to match you. No one I would rather build a life with—a family with—than you.”
Just as the emotions are set to overwhelm us all, Brady steps forward. He can’t resist hamming it up, milking the moment for all it’s worth, especially with Finn live streaming and Molly snapping a thousand photos.
He holds up the rings with a dramatic flourish, clearly reveling in his honorary role. With Mason MIA and our vows completely improvised, Brady has stepped up as best man, matron of honor, impromptu emcee, and caterer—all rolled into one.
“Shame you couldn’t be here, Mase!” He grins at the camera. “But don’t worry—I’ve got it all under control.”
Pen briefly explains the ring choice: matching pieces handcrafted by Arnold, the skilled local jeweler she discovered, that are imprinted with the contours of this landscape. She laughingly assures me there are plenty of smooth stretches in there, too, not just the craggy ridges and ravines to navigate.
And then we’re in the moment…being announced husband and wife.
Our first kiss, official now, hits me with enough adrenaline to scale a mountain.
Then the rush of cheers, hugs, teary grins, camera flashes, and champagne corks. Birds scatter. Music kicks in. I can’t stop touching her.
We sign the marriage license—skip the prenup. No fine print, no clauses. I’ve already given her everything. There’s nothing left to negotiate. She’s mine. I’m hers. Finally.
In the blur of celebration, we somehow score a moment alone as people spread out to set up tables, serve food, and open more champagne.
Pen’s fingers sink firmly into my arm as the next song begins, the music swelling like a wave, rich and orchestral with a sweeping flourish of strings.
“You know, putting this together, I kept thinking about how to capture our story,” she says, her face lit up. “All the detours and blind corners it took to get here. I thought I could start with our song. But with our history? We need an entire movie soundtrack to sum it up. But then, this…” Her eyes soften. “This song really spoke to me.”
Adele’s powerfully rich, velvet voice drifts through the speaker. As the lyrics unfold, I tenderly stroke Pen’s cheek, her eyes filled with the vulnerability she’s finally ready to let me witness.
“All your expectations
of my love are impossible
Surely you know
that I’m not easy to hold…”
I slip my hand to Pen’s waist as her eyes search mine, conveying just how much she’s gone through to arrive at this moment of trust. To let me in, to commit to our love.
“…My heart speaks in puzzle and codes
I’ve been trying my whole life to solve…”
Adele continues her vent, building to a chorus that calls us out for being “fools” to dare to love when the hurt is practically guaranteed. It’s not exactly a classic wedding pick, but then, Pen is anything but conventional.
She manages a rueful smile against the brimming tears.
“The way I was, Tuck—always making the first move to hurt you before you could hurt me? That’s not who I am anymore. And, sure, maybe we are fools, taking this risk, but somehow it feels like the surest thing I’ve ever done.”
I finger the strand of her hair curling loose against her collarbone.
“What do I know, Pen? Our story is filled with momentum. You kept me guessing at every juncture, but I wouldn’t change a damn thing—because it got us here. And yeah, it’s a risk, but this thing between us? It was never about playing it safe.”
I glance over toward the rocky ledge. The drop below. The sky wide open.
Pen follows my gaze, her smile tilting, half nervous, half wicked. I see it in her eyes—the spark, the dare.
“Our love isn’t about staying within the boundaries,” I say.
She nods slowly, catching the rhythm. “It’s about taking a leap of faith.”
I pull out my phone, keys, and wallet, handing them off to Violet, who’s arranging the tables. Pen kicks off her shoes.
Violet looks up with a questioning frown, then glances between our faces and reads trouble.
“What are you two up to?”
And it’s like being a kid again, ready to bound into the unknown, free-falling into space without a backward glance—because you’re doing it with someone you truly believe in.
Already, my pulse is picking up as the old thrill kicks in. The wind, the height, the anticipation of letting go. That glorious second when you’re weightless, fearless, all-in.
I reach for Pen’s hand. She laces her fingers through mine, tight and sure.
We move toward the ledge, and Violet quickly catches on.
“You can’t be serious?! In your dress ?” she calls out, alarmed.
Then Mom chimes in. “Tuck? What are you—” She follows our trajectory. “You wouldn’t! That’s crazy!”
“What are they doing?” Finn quickly swivels the camera to us.
We reach the edge; the lake stretched wide and gleaming below.
Adele’s vocals follow us, swirling and dancing around in my head:
“Love is a game —
You know…I’d do it all again…”
And we prepare our final breaths, the wind at our backs, the leap in our bones. Knowing that we’ve entered something wild and unpredictable. A high-stakes, forever-and-ever commitment.
We look down at the lapping water, then outward to the wide horizon.
Then, I turn to my wife. And I gaze into her beautiful, smiling eyes, reflecting all the belief and hope swelling in my chest.
There’s no need to ask if she’s ready. I already know.
“Three…two…one—”
And we leap.
Launching ourselves into the unknown. Diving into an uncertain future, together, knowing that this time, we’re playing on the same side.
And that means we can’t lose.
THE END
Thank you for reading my novel, Love is a Game.