Epilogue 1
VOWS & VICTORIES
Cassie
" H old still," Mia commands, carefully adjusting the hairpin securing my veil. "One more... there. Perfect."
I stare at my reflection, barely recognizing the woman looking back at me.
The dress—my own design, naturally—falls in clean, architectural lines before softening into a gentle sweep at the hem.
Simple. Elegant.
Nothing like the princess fantasy I'd dreamed up as a little girl, but everything I want now.
"You look incredible," Olivia says, dabbing at her eyes. "Roman is going to lose his mind."
"You think?" I smooth my hands over the silk, a flutter of nerves dancing in my stomach.
It's ridiculous to be nervous. We've been together for three years.
We have a toddler. We own a home together.
And yet—there's something about making it official that feels monumental in a way I hadn't expected.
"I know ," Mia says firmly. "Now let me get back to Harmony before she destroys her flower girl dress. That child has Roman's determination and your creativity—a terrifying combination."
As my sister slips out of the bedroom, Olivia hands me a small velvet box. "From himself. He said to give it to you right before."
Inside lies a delicate platinum chain with a tiny platinum cell phone charm, exquisitely detailed. I laugh, warmth spreading through me. "That ridiculous man."
"There's a note," Olivia points out, pulling a folded card from her pocket.
I open it to find Roman's strong, decisive handwriting:
For the woman who texted the wrong number and found the right man. Wear this today as a reminder that the best messages find their way to exactly where they need to be. I'll be the one waiting for you at the end of the aisle. I love you, CM (almost CK).
"Oh god," I groan, fanning my eyes. "If I cry now, you'll have to redo my makeup."
"Don't you dare," Olivia warns, expertly fastening the necklace around my neck. "There. Something new."
A knock at the door interrupts us. Sterling Kade, Roman’s father peers in, his eyes widening when he sees me. "Cassie," he breathes, looking suddenly older and younger all at once. "You're a vision."
"Thanks, Sterlling for walking me down the isle," I say, reaching for his hand. "Is everything ready?"
He nods. "The guests are seated. The string quartet is playing. And Roman is pacing like a caged lion." His eyes twinkle. "That boy loves you something fierce, doesn't he?"
"He does," I confirm, a certainty I never thought I'd feel. "And I love him the same way."
"Then let's not keep him waiting."
We decided on a home wedding—intimate, with only sixty guests in our backyard.
The space has been transformed with subtle lighting and abundant flowers, the October evening perfect with just a hint of crispness in the air.
As I step onto the rose petal-strewn path, I catch sight of Roman at the end of the aisle, his back to me as he chats with the officiant.
Harmony spots me first, her two-year-old voice piercing the gentle murmur of conversation. "Mama! Pwetty!"
Roman turns, and the look on his face stops my heart. I've seen many expressions from this man—desire, tenderness, amusement, even vulnerability. But this—this is something else entirely. Like he's seeing a miracle.
The string quartet begins Pachelbel's Canon, and my father squeezes my arm. "Ready?"
I nod, my eyes locked with Roman's as we begin our walk. The guests blur on either side—colleagues, friends, family—but I register a few faces. Camden sitting with his fiancée Arielle, giving me a genuine smile and thumbs up. eyes suspiciously damp.
And then there's Harmony, squirming in Mia's lap, her dark curls adorned with a tiny floral crown, her dress a miniature version of mine. When she spots me again, she lets out an excited squeal and lunges forward. Mia barely catches her, and a ripple of laughter breaks the solemnity of the moment.
It's perfect. Perfectly us.
When we reach Roman, his father places my hand in his with a gruff, "Take care of each other," before stepping back.
Roman's fingers twine with mine, warm and steady. "You're breathtaking," he whispers.
"So are you," I reply, taking in his bespoke suit, the subtle nervousness in his normally confident bearing.
The ceremony is brief but meaningful. We wrote our own vows—his eloquent and heartfelt, mine stumbling but sincere.
When he slides the platinum band onto my finger, his hand trembles slightly.
I do the same for him, marveling at how this small circle of metal can feel so significant when we've already committed to each other in every other way.
"By the power vested in me," the officiant says, "I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."
Roman cups my face in his hands, his touch reverent. "Hello, Mrs. Kade," he murmurs, just for me.
"Hello, Mr. Kade-Monroe,” I correct with a smile.
His answering grin is blinding as he leans in, sealing our marriage with a kiss that manages to be both appropriate for our audience and promising of much more to come.
The reception unfolds across our backyard and into the lower level of the house, where the large living space has been cleared for dancing.
Roman and I move from group to group, accepting congratulations, champagne flutes in hand.
"Congratulations," Camden says when we reach him, Arielle at his side. "The ceremony was beautiful. Very you guys."
"Thanks, Cam," I say, genuine warmth in my voice. Three years ago, I couldn't have imagined being here—married to Roman with Camden as a welcomed guest. But time and perspective have healed old wounds, leaving friendship in their place.
"The firm made me partner last month," he tells us. "I'm heading up the new entertainment law division. Arielle and I will be splitting our time between New York and LA."
"That's amazing," I say, squeezing his arm. "You always were a brilliant lawyer. You deserve this."
"Speaking of global," Arielle adds, "I hear Cassandra Designs is opening a Tokyo office?"
Roman's hand settles at the small of my back, a gesture of pride. "Next month. Cassie's Japanese-inspired pieces have developed a cult following there."
I lean into him slightly. "It's a joint venture. Kade-Monroe International is handling the business side."
The company we formed together two years ago has become a perfect synthesis of our talents—his business acumen and my creative vision creating something neither of us could have built alone.
What began as my small design studio has blossomed into a fashion empire with sustainable practices and ethical manufacturing at its core.
"Quite the power couple," Camden observes without bitterness. "Who would have thought?"
"Not me," I admit. "But I'm grateful every day that it worked out this way."
As Camden and Arielle move on, I spot Margo, Roman’s aunt approaching, Harmony in her arms. The relationship between Roman’s aunt and me had been glacial at first, but Harmony proved to be the perfect thawing agent. Now, while we'd never be best friends, we've developed a mutual respect.
"Your daughter is demanding her parents," Margot says, handing over a sleepy-eyed Harmony. "Congratulations, both of you. The ceremony was lovely."
"Thank you, Aunt Margot," Roman says, taking Harmony from her. Our daughter immediately lays her head on his shoulder, her eyes heavy.
"She's about done for the evening," I note, checking my watch. "The nanny should be upstairs."
Roman kisses Harmony's forehead. "I'll take her up. Be right back."
As he walks away with our daughter, Margot watches him with a softer expression than I've ever seen on her face.
"You know," she says quietly, "I've never seen him as happy as he is with you and Harmony. He didn’t always have a great example of marriage.”.
The admission surprises me. “His parents were married for a long time."
"Being married and having a marriage worth emulating are different things," she replies,
"You two have built something real. Something worth fighting for."
Before I can respond to this unprecedented openness, my phone buzzes in the hidden pocket of my dress. I excuse myself and check the screen, expecting a message from the caterer.
Instead, it's from Roman:
Save a dance for me, Mrs. Kade. And later, I'm going to peel that gorgeous dress off you with my teeth.
Heat floods my cheeks as I look up, finding him watching me from across the room, Harmony now safely with the nanny. He raises his champagne glass in a toast, his eyes promising everything his text suggested and more.
I text back:
Promises, promises. Put your money where your mouth is, Mr. Kade-Monroe.
His grin turns wolfish as he reads my response. Another text arrives immediately:
I plan to put my mouth in many places tonight.
Starting with that sweet spot between your thighs—right where you always go soft for me.
Then your neck. Your breasts. Your fingers if they’re clenched in my hair like they should be.
And when you’re wrecked and begging, I’ll start over.
Mrs. Kade, I hope you cleared your schedule.
"What has you blushing like that?" Olivia interrupts, appearing at my side. "Wait, are you and Roman texting each other at your own wedding reception?"
I lock my screen quickly. "Maybe."
She rolls her eyes. "You two are ridiculous. And perfect for each other. Now come on, it's time for your first dance."
The night passes in a blur of dancing, toasts, and laughter. Roman’s father twirls me around the dance floor with surprising grace. He then gives a toast that manages to be both intimidating and oddly touching. Mia catches the bouquet and immediately throws a panicked look at her boyfriend.
Through it all, Roman is my constant, his hand finding mine between moments, his eyes seeking me across the room. And always, the buzzing of my phone with messages alternating between sweetly romantic and scandalously explicit.
Roman: