Epilogue
TANIA
One Year Anniversary
White roses line the aisle. Candlelight flickers across five hundred upturned faces as the doors open and music swells.
A vow renewal. That’s what the invitations said. One year of marriage, and the Locke brothers wanted to celebrate it properly. Nobody questioned it. People love any excuse for an extravagant party.
But the truth is, this is our real wedding. The first one never happened. There was no aisle, no dress, no vows. Just a contract and a handshake and a lie we all agreed to tell.
Tonight, we fix that.
Ben’s arm is steady beneath my hand, grounding me as we step forward.
At the end of the aisle, three men wait.
Silas is in the center, spine straight, face controlled, but his eyes gloss over when they find mine.
Callum is to his right, tie already slightly crooked, grin softening into something reverent.
Evan is to his left, hands clasped, mouth curved in that smile that always makes everything feel possible.
All three are in tuxedos. All three are watching me like I’m the only person breathing.
My knees almost buckle. Ben squeezes my hand.
We reach the altar, and Ben doesn’t immediately let go. Instead, he looks at all three of them, voice carrying to the front rows.
“Take care of her.”
“Always,” Silas promises.
Ben releases me. I move forward, and suddenly I’m between all three of them. Surrounded. Home.
The officiant begins, but I barely hear the words. My heart is pounding too loud, drowning out everything except the warmth of Silas’s hand finding mine, Callum’s shoulder pressed against my left side, Evan’s fingers threading through my right hand.
Then Silas is speaking, and the entire room falls silent.
“Before I reconnected with you, I thought I knew what my life would be. Duty. Obligation. Control.” His thumb strokes across my knuckles.
“You showed me that wanting something freely doesn’t mean losing everything.
It means gaining what actually matters. I’m standing here because you taught me that building something real is better than inheriting something hollow. ”
My vision blurs.
Callum’s turn. His voice is rougher than usual, stripped of its usual cocky edge.
“I spent my whole life running. From rules. From expectations. From anything that felt like being caged.” His hand tightens on my waist. “You made me want to stop. You made staying feel like freedom.”
Evan’s fingers squeeze mine before he speaks.
“I’ve always been the easy one. The fun one. The one who keeps things light.” He pauses, swallowing hard. “But you saw past that. You wanted all of it—the easy parts and the hard parts. With you, I don’t have to perform. I just get to be.”
The officiant looks at me expectantly.
I take a shaky breath and meet each of their eyes in turn.
“I was raised to believe stability was something borrowed. That belonging was conditional. That security came from other people’s decisions, not my own.” My voice strengthens. “You three gave me something I’d never had—the ability to claim permanence. To build something that’s mine. That’s ours.”
I squeeze their hands.
“I want this. I want you. Every day. For the rest of my life.”
The officiant begins talking about vow renewals and everlasting love. But I’m not listening. I’m only focused on the three men who are now officially my husbands. Not legally, of course. But they are mine in every way that matters.
Silas kisses me first. Then Callum. Then Evan, sweet and lingering.
The room erupts in applause, but all I hear is my own heart, finally settled.
The reception blurs into champagne toasts and laughter and cake that’s too sweet.
Frederick Ashford, the board member I connected with at my first art gallery gala with Silas, finds me near the dessert table. Over the past year, we’ve become friends, and he congratulates me on the foundation announcement.
We built a program together that supports students with a passion for art.
He handled the logistics while I provided the funding and the ideas.
The program is designed for talented students who don’t have the means to pursue their passion.
I was lucky enough to have my brother support me, and other people deserve that same opportunity.
“You’re cultivating the next generation,” he says, approving.
“Someone did it for me once. I’m just returning the favor.”
But it’s the dancing I’ll remember.
Not three separate dances. One.
All four of us are on the floor together while the DJ plays something slow. Silas’s hand at my waist. Callum spinning me until I’m breathless with laughter. Evan pulling me close and whispering that I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
The four of us are moving together like we’ve had a lifetime of dances.
Like we’ll have a lifetime more.
By the time we slip away, my feet ache, and my face hurts from smiling.
The suite is quiet when the door closes behind us.
“Five hundred people is too many people,” Callum mutters, already loosening his tie.
“Worth it,” Evan counters.
Silas’s hands find my waist from behind. “Agreed.”
I lean back against him, feeling the solid warmth of his chest. “We’re married.”
“We are.” His mouth finds my neck. “Actually married. Not fake. Not temporary.”
“Not legal,” I breathe, laughing. “But real.”
Later—much later—I’m tangled in sheets, surrounded by my husbands.
Callum is circling my belly button with his finger. Evan is playing with my hair. Silas is pressed against my back, his arm heavy and possessive across my waist.
“Mrs. Locke,” Callum says, grinning in the darkness.
“I didn’t change my name.”
“Do you want to?” Evan asks quietly.
“No.” I turn my head to look at him. “Changing my name feels like ownership. We’re together by choice.”
Callum’s hand tightens on my hip. “Don’t care. You’re still ours.”
Silas’s palm spreads across my stomach. “Always.”
I close my eyes, a smile curving my lips. “I am yours. And you’re mine.”