Epilogue
Heather
I stand there, toes peeking out from under my dress, feeling like I'm perched on the edge of a diving board, looking into the deep end of forever. Lincoln's hand reaches for mine, warm and grounding. His thumb brushes against my skin—a silent promise in a sea of anticipation.
“Deep breaths,” he whispers.
“Is that advice for me or for you?” I tease.
“Both,” he admits with a chuckle, his deep, soulful eyes crinkling at the edges. There's laughter in those eyes.
“Beloved guests, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Heather and Lincoln,” the officiant begins. She smiles, and it feels like she's in on the secret—the one where Lincoln Montgomery, the man who could calm a room with just a look, is actually quaking in his shiny, black shoes.
“Love is a force that transcends time and space, an energy that compels us to put another’s happiness before our own,” she continues.
I glance at Lincoln, catching the tail end of a nod, an acknowledgment of the words that resonate so deeply with who he is—compassionate to a fault, always the first to lend a hand.
“Today, we witness Heather and Lincoln embark on a journey together—a journey filled with shared dreams, challenges, laughter, and growth.” The officiant's voice lulls me into the story of us. The narrative of a small-town girl and the boy with the heart of gold who grew up to help heal children.
“Through their bond, they demonstrate that while life doesn't always follow the path we plan, it can lead us to a love we never imagined.” My mind flits back to my return to Lawson Ridge.
How Lincoln's unexpected presence turned my carefully laid plans upside down and painted them in shades of joy I'd forgotten existed.
“Let us celebrate this beautiful chapter in their story, as they stand before us, ready to weave their lives together.”
I squeeze Lincoln's hand, my heart soaring like the swallows that dance above the fields outside town. Here we are, two people who found each other in the quiet corners of our shared history, ready to laugh through life together.
“Ready to dive in?” Lincoln's voice tickles my ear, his breath a whisper of the promise we're about to make.
“Absolutely,” I reply, my spirit somersaulting. “Together, right?”
“Always,” he assures, his words the final piece of an invisible armor encasing my once-guarded heart.
The officiant takes a moment and then is ready for us to do our vows.
Lincoln's eyes, deep pools of sincerity, lock onto mine. He takes a breath. “From the moment I saw you again, you rekindled something in me that I thought was lost,” Lincoln begins, his voice steady. “You're this incredible force, Heather—intelligent, strong, and so breathtakingly real.”
A chuckle escapes me, because only Lincoln can make a compliment sound like an oath. My cautious heart flutters, daring to embrace every word.
“I vow to be there for you, to ride the storms and celebrate the calm. To listen deeply, even when words fail us.”
He closes the paper and wipes his eyes. How am I supposed to go after that?
“When I came back to Lawson Ridge, I was looking for a safe harbor, not expecting to find a lighthouse guiding me to a love I never dared to dream of. Today, I stand here ready to build a life with you.” I swallow the lump forming in my throat.
“I promise to cherish your compassionate heart, to support your selfless journey, and to create a home where you can always lay down the burdens you carry for others.”
Lincoln smiles, a soft upturn of his lips that speaks volumes about the kindness residing within him. It's a smile I've come to adore, one that can brighten the cloudiest of days in Lawson Ridge.
“By the power vested in me. I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”
A surge of applause erupts, cascading over us like an avalanche of joy.
“Kiss her already, Lincoln!” someone hollers from the back, their playful shout piercing the symphony of clapping hands.
Lincoln's deep eyes dance with laughter, and without a word, he leans in, his intent clear. I reach up, my fingers brushing against the strong line of his jaw, feeling the faint stubble beneath my touch. His lips meet mine, and the world slips away.