Epilogue
Loving her is the best thing I’ll ever do
MICAH
We're married.
It's been almost a month since Bora Bora, since rose petals and candlelights and the moment she said yes—the moment I felt like I won in life.
And somehow, after all of that, we ended up here—not in some grand ballroom or extravagant garden.
No string quartet or champagne tower. Just the two of us in a courthouse in downtown Boston, bundled up in winter coats, slipping on rings with cold fingers and warm hearts.
No witnesses—Massachusetts doesn't require them anyway.
And frankly, given everything that's gone down with Wyatt and Poppy, it felt better to keep it simple. Quiet and ours.
But I will make sure Sophie has a proper wedding someday. When she's ready—when we're both ready. She deserves to have her special day.
Today, she’s in a simple white dress—nothing fancy or showy, but somehow she’s never looked more beautiful. She is perfection.
Now we’re driving home—to our home.
She keeps fiddling with her ring. I catch glints of it from the corner of my eye every time the light hits—flashing just the right amount of obnoxious sparkle, exactly how I meant it to.
“You keep staring at it,” I say, grinning.
She doesn’t even deny it. “It’s just really sparkly.”
I glance at her quickly at a red light. “I can get you a bigger one.”
She gasps. “Micah. This is already huge. I feel like I need security walking around with it.”
I shrug. “How about I get you a bigger one for each anniversary?”
She shakes her head and rolls her eyes, but doesn’t let go of my hand. She squeezes it, then leans her head against my arm, still looking at her ring like she can't believe it’s real.
I can’t believe it either, in the best possible way.
People will say we’re crazy—married after a a semester, no big wedding, no buildup, no prenup. But I don’t give a shit.
Luke called to congratulate us earlier. It was his idea, after all. That charming, cunning, cocky bastard. But I love him for it. It was the perfect plan. Now, even my dad has to go to lengths to protect her and this marriage if needed. Divorce is not in the Vale dictionary, after all.
I glance over, and she’s still admiring her ring.
“I love you, Mrs. Vale,” I say quietly, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand before resting it over my chest.
“I love you too,” she murmurs, her voice soft and steady.
The second we walk into our penthouse, Sophie freezes.
Luke’s standing by the kitchen island, arms folded, smug smile already in place.
Grant pops up from the couch, holding a paper plate full of cookies, and Poppy’s there too, setting down what looks like a homemade card on the counter.
Wyatt and Kate are near the window, standing close—too close—and I swear he’s got his hand on the small of her back like he’s guarding her from a sniper.
“Surprise,” Luke says, way too casual.
Sophie’s hand tightens in mine. “What is this?”
“We figured since you two didn’t want any witnesses to your wedding,” Grant says with a grin. “We’d celebrate with you here.”
Sophie blinks, then laughs, the kind that starts shy but turns real as she looks around. “You guys…”
“We kept it small,” Luke adds. “Just the essentials.”
He’s not wrong. It’s just the five of them.
And the first thing I notice is the one thing not here—alcohol.
No champagne. No wine. Nothing. Just lemonade, soda, sparkling water, and plates of snacks.
I told them all weeks ago that this place would be a no-drinking zone from now on.
Not with Sophie living here, with her history.
And they’ve respected it without question.
Even Grant, who usually treats alcohol like an accessory, is sipping lemonade like it’s fine wine.
Still, I pause when I see Kate. She’s barely said two words to me in her life—probably not even one to Sophie.
But she’s here, tight at Wyatt’s side, and he’s steering her through the room with quiet protectiveness.
It’s not casual. He’s shielding her, making sure no one bumps into her, guiding her like she’s something fragile.
This can’t be easy for Poppy. She keeps glancing their way when she thinks no one’s looking.
Her smile is tight. Her hands are fidgeting.
But she’s trying, for Sophie’s sake. Trying to be okay.
She doesn’t know why Wyatt’s being like this.
And by the look of it, they’re still keeping Kate’s pregnancy on the down low.
Eventually, Poppy walks over.
“Congratulations,” she says, pulling Sophie into a soft hug. “Really. I’m so happy for you, Soph.”
“Thanks, Pop,” Sophie says, voice warm.
Poppy turns to me. “Take care of her, okay?”
“I will.”
“You’re lucky,” she says, giving me a small, meaningful look. “You landed someone special.”
I slip my arm around Sophie and press a kiss to her temple. “Trust me,” I say, “I know.”
“How is it with Grant?” Sophie asks gently, her voice light but curious.
Poppy laughs. “It’s great. A lot of fun, actually. Though I’ve learned earplugs are non-negotiable—he has someone over, like, four nights a week, and they’re loud.”
Sophie winces playfully. “Too much information.”
Poppy shrugs. “Just the truth. But yeah, he’s a good roommate. Sweeter than he lets people see.”
“I’m glad,” Sophie says. Then, softer, “But if you ever change your mind, we’ve got a room here for you. No pressure. Just…always an option.”
Poppy’s smile falters for half a second before she nods. “Thanks, Soph.”
She looks over her shoulder, her eyes landing briefly on Wyatt and Kate—laughing quietly in the corner like they’re in their own little world. Wyatt’s still got his hand on her back, guiding her with that protective ease.
“I think I’m gonna take off,” Poppy says suddenly, turning back to us. Her voice is calm, but her eyes say more than she lets on. “It’s just kind of hard. Seeing them like that.”
Sophie opens her mouth, but Poppy steps in for a quick hug. “I’m fine. Really. I just need a bit of space tonight.”
Then she turns and walks toward the elevator, shoulders straight, chin high—like she’s holding herself together with everything she’s got.
As soon as Poppy’s gone, Sophie looks up to me. “Wyatt’s an asshole,” she says quietly. “Sorry, I know he’s your friend, but he really hurt her.”
I nod once. “Let’s not let this ruin our day.”
Because that’s all I can say. If only she knew—Wyatt’s not showing off. He’s not trying to twist the knife. He’s doing what he always does: protecting the people he loves, even if it makes him look like the bad guy.
I glance down at Sophie, still standing close to me, her fingers linked with mine like they’ve always belonged there. She smiles up at me, with warm eyes, and I lean down a little more.
“I was hoping for a post-wedding hours long sex marathon tonight. Six hours. No interruptions. You. Me. One very patient headboard.” I whisper to her.
Her face turns bright red and she buries her head into my arm. “Micah!”
I don't think I'll ever get tired of that. The way she does this—hides herself into me like I'm the safest place she knows. I can’t get over the fact that she's really mine.
“You’re so cute when you blush.”
“You’re so inappropriate when you breathe.”
“I’m your husband. You’re stuck with me now.”
We’re interrupted by Luke strolling over with his trademark smirk. “Hello, sister,” he says to Sophie, pulling her into a one-armed hug. “Glad to finally meet the girl who managed to get my stubborn baby brother to settle down.”
Sophie laughs. “Thank you for everything, Luke. I’ve really been wanting to meet you. I know what you did with the Evergreen Scholarship. I won’t be needing it anymore, but I haven’t forgotten. I really owe you.”
Luke raises a brow. “You don't owe me anything. We’ll be in touch, though. Now that what’s Micah’s is also yours.” He gives her a wink.
I mutter, “Cheap ass.”
“You know what they say—The butterfly always finds the nest,” is all Luke says before walking off.
“What does that mean?” she asks me. “I’ve never heard that expression before. Do butterflies build nests?”
“Trust me—don’t try to understand,” I tell her. “Eventually, you’ll learn to ignore it.”
She then leans into me, her voice low. “Hey, by the way, does Wyatt drink much?”
I shake my head. “Not really. Maybe a beer every now and then, but he’s not big on it.”
She nods slowly, her eyes drifting toward Kate. “That’s what I thought.”
I glance at her. “Why?”
She hesitates for half a second, then says even quieter, “When Kate hugged me earlier, I caught a trace of something. Just a hint. I don’t think anyone else would’ve noticed it—but I’m pretty sure it was alcohol.”
I frown. “There’s no alcohol here.”
“I know,” she says. “That’s why it stood out.”
I stare at her. “I doubt that.” She’s pregnant. But Sophie doesn’t know that.
“Micah. I can smell alcohol from a mile away. You know that.”
“You sure it wasn’t someone else?”
She gently shakes her head. “It was definitely from her breath.”
I glance toward Kate. I think I heard someone once mention that a little wine is okay during pregnancy—but even so, something about it doesn’t sit right. Wyatt’s standing close to her, whispering something in her ear. He looks tense. He’s focused and protective, but definitely not happy.
Something pulls at the back of my mind—But tonight isn't the night.
Grant clinks his fork against a plastic cup.
“Alright, alright,” he announces, standing dramatically on the couch. “Everyone shut up.”
Sophie groans under her breath. “Oh god.”
Grant grins. “I’d just like to say—I called this. From day one. I said, ‘That girl is gonna be Mrs. Vale.’ They showed up wearing matching shirts, and next thing I know, Micah's her personal Uber. Drove her around like a lovesick intern. Waited for her like a lost golden retriever in a luxury car.”
Sophie hides her face in my arm again, laughing, completely mortified.
Grant lifts his lemonade. “To Sophie Vale—the only woman on earth who could expose just how much of a love-struck golden boy Micah’s been all along. Who knew?”
Everyone cheers.
Sophie’s still laughing, blushing all over, and I’m pretty sure this is the happiest I’ve ever seen her. She’s relaxed, glowing, home—not just with me, but here, with them. With the people who have my back. And now, hers. This is her safe place.
She fits. She’s not alone anymore.
And I get to watch her grow—become who she was always meant to be. I get to protect her, cheer for her, and just be hers.
I don’t know what the next chapter will look like, but I know this: I’ll be right beside her for every second of it.
Because Sophie Vale is my wife.
And loving her is the best thing I’ll ever do.