Epilogue
Ava
T wo years later.
Mom made it to about a month before Tori and I celebrated our first anniversary.
She’d been going strong for a while, but things took a hard turn eight months after the wedding.
Though Mom had recovered from the acute infection and was released from the ICU, her oncologist had gently told us she wouldn’t be with us much longer.
Shortly after that, she’d gone into hospice.
The hospice nurses had been amazing, keeping Mom as comfortable as possible while also doing everything they could to see the family through.
In the end, she held on for a few more weeks than we’d anticipated, and we’d all tearfully said she’d run on pure stubbornness just to make sure she got to meet my oldest brother’s newest baby.
Nikki had Ariel on Tuesday, brought her to see Mom on Wednesday, and Mom was gone on Thursday.
The day she met her grandbaby, Mom was in great spirits with a ton of energy, which the hospice nurse quietly told me was not uncommon—some people rallied just before they passed, and the nurse wanted us to be ready.
We were as ready as we could be, and though the day Mom died was hard, it was also an end to her suffering. She told me during a lucid moment that she was at peace, knowing that all of her children were happy.
“You take care of that wife of yours,” she’d told me with a tired smile. “You hit the jackpot with her, you know.”
Squeezing her frail hand and fighting back tears, I’d nodded. “I know. Believe me, I know.”
I really had hit the jackpot, too. Not only was Tori the best friend and best wife I could ever want, she’d been my rock during the last few months of Mom’s life.
She’d helped take care of her so my siblings and I weren’t stretched so thin.
She’d held me while I’d cried more times than I could count.
She’d fielded calls with the funeral home and everyone imaginable even while grieving herself.
She’d handled a lot of the planning when my dad or my siblings and me just couldn’t deal with it.
And at the memorial service, she’d broken down crying at the huge framed photo of Mom, beaming in her green mother-of-the-bride dress.
I would never in a million years have wished my mom’s illness on anyone, but if any silver lining came out of it, it was me realizing that the woman of my dreams had been right there in front of me all this time.
Maybe it should’ve been a clue when she’d been willing to go through all the motions of a wedding just to ease my guilt and make Mom’s dream come true.
We’d quietly celebrated our first anniversary not long after Mom’s funeral.
I wondered how many other couples cried while they cut into that frozen top layer of their wedding cake, laughing through their tears as they celebrated and grieved at the same time.
We’d eaten it off plates from the china set my parents had bought us, and though it tasted terrible—Mom warned us it would—it was still a perfect celebration.
That night was one of many that cemented my love for Tori.
She’d been here for me during some of the worst moments of my life, and she’d been the reason for some of the best. I couldn’t imagine going through the last few weeks of Mom’s life or her funeral without Tori, and I couldn’t imagine going through all the day-to-day boring parts of life without her either.
Maybe we hadn’t started our romantic relationship in the most typical way, and maybe we’d never tell a soul besides each other how things had begun, but I was grateful every single day that we’d landed here.
A few days after the wedding, with Marco and his husband as witnesses, we quietly got married for real at the courthouse downtown. Afterward, we celebrated with a boozy lunch at a café Marco and Tori frequented, and there we’d sealed our pact of silence with mimosas and amazing food.
What else could I do but spend the rest of my life trying to be everything this amazing woman deserved?
Today, two years after we’d said, “I do,” I wanted to make our celebration special. I wanted it to be about us. About how much I loved and adored her, and how much I appreciated what a rock she’d been during one of the most difficult things I’d ever endured.
I’d convinced Marco to take her out to lunch so she’d be out of the house for a little while, which gave me time to set everything up. By the time he’d texted to let me know she was on her way home, everything was ready. It was all perfect.
Well, except maybe for the occasional bit of cat fluff, but there wasn’t much I could do about that. Not with Tucker “helping” me arrange his mom’s gifts on the coffee table.
“You know, your orange floor kind of clashes with the wrapping paper,” I informed him. He stared up at me, his long tail swishing across the ribbon on one of the boxes. When he started kneading, his claws clicked in and out of the edge of another gift’s paper.
I rolled my eyes and scooped him up. “You’re a little saboteur, aren’t you?”
He just purred.
I laughed and kissed the top of his head.
A memory flashed through my mind from before Tori and I were “engaged.” She’d moved out of our old place to live with Jillian, and I’d been crushed that Tucker wasn’t living with me anymore either.
When they’d come back, I’d been cuddling with him one night when it had dawned on me that sooner or later, Tori or I would find a partner.
Or one of us would get a job someplace else.
One way or the other, there would come a time when we wouldn’t live together anymore, and I’d been bummed out to imagine both of them being gone. I’d missed Tori. I’d missed Tucker.
And now… Tori and I had both found partners. We’d both gotten married. And Tucker still lived with both of us, because somehow, the planets had aligned and Tori and I had married each other. Even if the circumstances leading up to it had been heartbreaking… we were here.
And Tucker and his tumbleweeds of orange floof were still here.
Things had, somehow, worked out in the best way possible under the circumstances.
I kissed his fuzzy head again and set him on the back of the couch, well clear of the small pile of presents. Of course, he started making his way back over to the coffee table, so I sat down and pulled him into my lap. I’d end up covered in fuzz, but oh well.
For his part, Tucker wasn’t bothered by the diversion. He curled up in my lap and started purring.
He was almost asleep when his head suddenly whipped toward the door. A second later, I heard Tori’s engine outside.
My heart sped up. When her key clicked in the door, Tucker launched himself out of my lap and trotted over to greet her.
“Hi, baby!” she cooed, carefully nudging him aside so she could get into the house and close the door. “Did you miss me? Were you a good boy today?”
He purred and trilled, arching his back as he bumped against her legs.
“You were a brat, weren’t you?” She leaned down to tousle his ears. “That’s why you’re trying to play innocent, isn’t it?”
“He wasn’t that bad,” I said from the couch. “Just… in the way.”
She looked up, probably intending to comment about how he was always in the way. Her gaze snapped on to the coffee table, though, and her eyes widened. “Oh. What’s all that?”
I grinned, absently brushing some Tucker fluff off my blouse. “Happy anniversary.”
Her smile lit up my whole world. She came over to the couch and dropped onto the cushion beside me.
“Happy anniversary.” She touched my face and kissed me, letting it linger for a long, perfect moment.
When she drew back, she said, “You didn’t have to get me anything, though.
Especially not…” She waved a hand at the pile. “All that.”
“No, I didn’t.” I wrapped my arms around her. “But I wanted to. So shut up and open them.”
I would never get tired of the way she’d burst into giggles like that. How had it taken me so long to realize how much I wanted her? Good thing I’d figured it out eventually.
“Seriously, though,” I said, “I love you. And even if you hadn’t done everything you did to make my mom happy or to help my whole family get through everything—I’d still want to make you happy.”
“You do,” she said softly. “Every day.”
“Well, I want to keep that up. And since it’s our anniversary…” I tipped my head toward the presents.
She quirked her lips, then let me go and reached for one of the boxes.
None of the presents were super extravagant.
She didn’t have that kind of taste, and she’d always preferred more practical gifts.
A new lap desk that I knew she’d been eyeballing.
A gift card for the place she always went with Marco.
A pair of gloves she’d said she liked. And some toys for Tucker, just because no occasion was complete without some more toys for our spoiled boy.
“Thank you for all this,” she said with a soft smile. “I, um… I ordered you something, but the shipping was delayed a couple of days. It should be here tomorrow, though.”
“That’s okay.” Grinning, I pulled an envelope out from under the throw pillow beside me. “Also, there’s one more thing.”
She glanced at the envelope, then at me, her eyebrow arched. “One more thing, hmm?”
“Yep.”
She took it and thumbed open the flap. In it was the funniest anniversary card I could find—one with a cartoon litter box on the front and “congratulations on another year of putting up with my crap.” She started giggling again, but then a folded-up paper slipped out of the card.
Brow furrowed, she picked it up and unfolded it. “What is—” Then her eyes went huge and her lips parted. She snapped her gaze to me. “Is this… Are these plane tickets?”
I grinned. “Well, they will be. When we figure out where we want to go and when we can both take time off.”
She blinked. “To where?”
“Anywhere you want. Hawaii. London. The North Pole.” I shrugged. “Wherever you want to go.”
She stared at me, and I took her hand and drew her closer.
“You were my rock through the worst years of my life,” I said. “And I know it took a lot out of you.”
“I’d do it all over again,” she said softly. “You’re my best friend.”
“I know. And I appreciate it. I couldn’t have made it through without you. Plus we only managed a short honeymoon because I’d burned through so much of my PTO, so… now I want us to go somewhere and just enjoy ourselves for a while.” I nodded toward the tickets. “Anywhere you want.”
“Anywhere?”
“I mean, anywhere we can afford, but…”
“Oh my God!” she squealed, and she threw her arms around me. “You’re the best!”
I laughed, but then she was kissing me, and everything else just disappeared, same as it always did when I was in this amazing woman’s arms.
When she touched her forehead to mine, we were both out of breath. “Thank you,” she said. “That is the coolest gift ever .”
“Anything for you.” I ran my fingers through her hair. “Happy anniversary.”
Her smile melted my heart all over again, and as she pulled me back in, she murmured, “Happy anniversary.”
And then we were off and kissing again. I had no doubt this would end with us moving into the bedroom, but for the moment, we stayed right here on the couch. Right here in each other’s arms. Sitting in the same place we’d figured out our whole plot to pretend to get married in the first place.
Somehow, the stars had aligned, and that fake engagement had segued into the most amazing marriage I could have ever imagined. All those years I hadn’t realized the perfect woman for me was right in front of my face, and now… this.
After two of the best and worst years of my life, I was happy. I was in love. I was with the woman of my dreams.
Just like I had on our wedding day, I again vowed to spend the rest of my life loving Tori like she was sent from heaven to be my wife.
Because I was pretty sure she was.