Epilogue
Pierce
One Year Later…
French fries are still one of my favorites.
Watching Paige crunch on one of my hand cut fries with the seasoning I make special, my heart fills so full. I love cooking for her. Love watching her eat. I love making a mess of her food and stripping her down to make love to her, too, but I will wait for that.
Today marks one year, to the date, since my dream girl sailed into the diner, soaking wet from the rain but still the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. I recall telling Imelda I could never know a girl as perfect as Paige. I was wrong—because I know her, I have her, and I fucking love her.
“You’re so beautiful,” I whisper as I watch her smile around another bite of my fries.
Frenchie sits between us, waiting for her bites from Paige, knowing she will cave before I do. Paige beams at me, chewing on her bite of fries and French toast, her favorite meal. It is a beautiful Saturday in Pine Grove. School is out for summer, and I have spent the days and weeks adoring the woman I love by feeding her and fucking her.
“Stop it. You’re beautiful,” she shoots back, flushing even though I tell her how beautiful she is a hundred times a day at least.
Sitting on the couch with her sprawled across my lap, Frenchie tucked between us, is my favorite place to be. MTV plays in the background, and she hums or belts the songs as we snuggle, but we’re not watching it really. We’re just existing here in the happiness of our life together.
Boxes fill the small space of our new place together, but we’re in no hurry to unpack. We stayed at the apartments a few months, going back and forth between our places before Brenden mentioned they were selling his old house. It is the perfect little place for us, so we went all in and signed off on the place a few weeks ago.
Our life together is so complete. We’ve talked about babies and marriage plenty. I want her to have my children and we agree we want at least two. My sister adores Paige and took her old place after we moved out. Mom is living in my old place, dating a guy who has swept her off her feet and treats her like a queen. Everything is right in my world for the first time.
Now there is just one thing left to do to make it perfect.
“Marry me, Paige,” I propose as she brings another fry to her mouth.
Stilling with the fry almost past her lips, she blinks up at me. I notice the sheen of tears in her eyes and almost laugh. It is not how I planned to propose, though I have thought of a dozen ways of how to propose to her. I want to spend my life with her, I want her to have my children.
I once said I had no idea how to do this. I wasn’t lying. I have gotten better at things. I always pick up the check—a lot easier since I got my own restaurant downtown with some help from Imelda’s uncle who invested with me— send flowers, only sweets, and I never get jealous about the handsome teachers she works with.
Because nothing and no one can shake our love.
“Wha-what did you just say?”
“Be my wife. Make me a husband. Make me a father. I want to be with you for the rest of my life. Marry me, baby.”
Swinging up to sit on my lap, she nods. No words come out, but a soft, sweet little sound does. I think it is a yes. I am taking it as a yes. Paige shoves her fry in her mouth then presses her lips to mine, still nodding.
“Can I hear the words, baby? Can you tell me yes, you will marry me?”
“Yes! Yes, I will. Yes, I want to be your wife, Pierce. I love you!”
Inside my chest, my heart expands with love. I joked once that the Grinch had nothing on me, but I was right. My heart grows and grows because of her. Because of how happy she has made me, how she has helped me grow and helped me be kinder to myself.
From the very first moment, that first meal I made her at the diner have no idea I was feeding the woman of my dreams, my future wife, she made me proud of myself and my work. It is because of her I took a chance on opening a restaurant after I got up the courage to try those specials at the diner. People loved them, they raved about them, and it gave me the confidence to try new things, to truly take a chance on myself.
Because of her, I have been a good boyfriend, a better brother, a better son, and I hope, a good husband. A good father. I don’t think about my father or worry I might be like him. I won’t be. I will never abandon the people I love. I will never give up on myself or her.
“Good, let’s end the eighties with a wedding, baby. Let’s get hitched!”
Paige laughs and agrees, letting me scoop her up to twirl her around the room. I am still not good on skates, and sometimes I plan a bad date. It doesn’t matter. Because she said it right, quoting the song we skated to that night at Skateland.
We can’t shake this love—nothing can.