Epilogue
EPILOGUE
Sometime in the future
The barn-turned-wedding venue was beautiful, with golden string lights draping over the exposed stone walls and floral garlands intertwined with the high wooden beams. It’d been a small occasion, with the bride’s side outweighing the number of burly rugby-playing men in suits, but a fantastic day nonetheless.
Half of the guests were seated in conversation around the raw-wood tables, the rest mingled and moved between the rustic pop-up bar and the dessert table, beers on ice in wheelbarrows and baskets of blankets to take the edge off of the Welsh spring chill.
Bash took another sip of his white wine spritzer and squeezed his hand on Faye’s hip to pull her a little closer. She’d been stressed for weeks over the wedding cake decorated with iced wildflowers and daffodils on the table to the side of them, and he couldn’t wait to take her back to their B something sweet that she could still wear beneath her gloves at work, which bloomed at a rate faster than she could keep up with.
After a fun video edit went viral on social media, investors had reached out, and now Baked By The Dozen was on its way to having a fully fledged café in every major UK city within the next five years – Bash couldn’t be prouder.
Maisie sent him a teasingly doubtful hum, though her eyes glittered on the edge of tears with happiness when they swept to Faye, and Bash had a suspicion that the ‘after your wedding’ part of revealing their secret would begin at six a.m sharp tomorrow morning.
With final hugs exchanged, Maisie floated back through the venue and wrapped her hand in the crook of her new husband’s arm.
“I didn’t realise that I’d forgotten,” Faye hushed, turning her back to the other guests. “I should take this off.”
“I’d rather you didn’t lose it.”
She stopped herself from undoing her clutch purse as if she’d had second thoughts. “Erm … I would put it in here but I don’t want to lose it if my purse gets knocked over.”
“Here.” Bash handed her his glass then found the clasp of the gold chain he wore around his neck – the chain that Faye had given to him during the difficult long-distance first year of their relationship when they’d been apart. Now he wore it every day, never letting the keepsake leave his chest.
He removed the chain from beneath his open collar and held his palm out flat for the ring.
Faye saw what he was going to do. She gave him her engagement ring and Bash threaded it onto the chain. She couldn’t wear it in his place; the neckline of her stunning silk dress would be too low to cover it, so Bash re-clasped the chain around his own neck and tucked it away benea th his shirt, making the ring lay flat against his chest as near to his heart as it could be.
He took each of their half-drunk glasses from her and set them on the edge of the dessert table beside them, then took both of Faye’s hands. “We’ll tell them after this excitement dies down, I promise.”
“I know.”
Stepping closer, Bash began to wrap her up in his arms to draw her to the dance floor. He pressed a slow, heartfelt kiss to her lips. “I love you, Peanut.”
Faye beamed up at him. “I love you even more.”