Epilogue
Trace
It feels like déjà vu in Miss Evie’s dining room, same table, same notebooks, same too-many-opinions, except now it’s flowers and venues instead of birthday decorations, it’s a wedding this time.
Miss Evie is fully dialed in she has linen samples spread out and is reading vendor reviews and enjoying every minute—after all it’s her meddling that started it all.
Paige and Lena are arguing over centerpieces versus favors.
Cash looks like he wants to chew through the wall to escape, but he’s here because he’s my best man and Delta’s family.
I’m next to my fiancée doing something smart: staying supportive, staying out of the line of fire, and keeping my mouth shut.
Storm cleanup is behind us; fences replaced, debris cleared, everything reinforced. Preston body was found, the police called and the investigation was opened and closed. When we began planning our wedding Delta remarked on the cost and I let her know “You don’t have to worry about cost.”
She gives me the look she uses when she thinks I’m not living in reality. “Trace, we’re not planning a wedding off a therapy-ranch salary.”
I don’t blink. “Delta… I’m a millionaire.”
Silence.
She studies me slowly. “You have a ranch account with ninety-nine-cent peanuts and gas-station beef jerky.”
“I’m a frugal millionaire,” I say. “When I was bodyguarding, the celebrity I pulled that stalker off of? She gave me a payout big enough to set up investments. Then when the Marine Corps pushed me out, they gave me another lump-sum bonus. And I’ve been collecting my military pension every month since I left. ”
“Well damn,” she says clearly trying to wrap her head around what I just told her. Delta says, “Wait! I can’t have a wedding without my Sorors.”
The universe must’ve been waiting on that line because the front door flies open.
“DELTA WHITMORE!”
And four women hit the room like a storm. Delta meets them in the middle and they scream-hug like they haven’t seen each other for years, and I guess they haven’t.
Mo talks first. “I came straight from the airport. I am tired of babysitting millionaires who have more money than common damn sense. When Avery called, I packed my bag and said my girl needs me.”
Avery lifts her chin. “It was time.”
Introductions fly. Delta beams.
“These are my girls. Mo, Tay, Avery, and Leyah.”
Then she gets to me. “And this is Trace.”
They shake my hand like civilized women and assess me like federal agents.
I respect it, I’d do the same. Planning ramps up to full chaos with the Sorors in the mix: shoe debates, playlist fights, and bachelorette trip threats.
Miss Evie is glowing. Paige and Lena are in rare form.
Mo is already leaning way too close to Cash and Cash is pretending he isn’t fascinated.
Delta slips her hand into mine under the table. Subtle. Solid.
“You alright?” she murmurs.
“Yeah,” I say, kissing her temple. “I’m good.”
“Since everyone flew in,” Delta says, “y’all are staying on the ranch for a while. Cabins are open. Nobody’s getting a hotel.”
Nods around the table, it makes sense since we’ve got the space, so, why not.
Mo leans back in her chair, eyes shifting straight to Cash like she picked her target the second she walked in. “So are we assigning rooms or is this a choose-your-own-adventure situation?”
Delta points her pen at her. “Don’t start.”
Mo smiles like she’s absolutely going to start.
She looks Cash up and down once, dramatic, slow. “Come on, Cash Money Records for the ’99 and the 2000s.”
Delta, Paige, and Lena lose it instantly, actually crying real tears.
Cash looks like someone asked him to do algebra. “Cash… what?”
Which makes them laugh harder. I’m smiling because I’ve never seen grown women fall apart over a single sentence before, but I have no idea what’s happening either.
Mo stands, snatches her purse, jerks her chin toward the door. “Come on. You and me. Clearly you need help.”
Cash looks around the table like we betrayed him. “I didn’t do anything.”
Mo herds him toward the door anyway. “You were born after 1995, that’s what you did.”
“I was born in ’91!”
“Same problem, baby,” she fires back. “Let’s go before you embarrass yourself further.”
They disappear onto the porch, her talking fast with her hands, Cash trying to keep up like he’s in the middle of a pop quiz.
Delta wipes tears from her eyes. “This wedding is going to be chaos.”
I slide my hand over hers, “Good chaos.”
She looks at me soft, like she still can’t believe she gets to have this kind of happiness.
“Yeah,” she says quietly. “The best kind.”
And in that moment, with everybody around us loud and laughing and alive, I know without a doubt: this is exactly where I’m supposed to be.