Chapter Thirty-One
Hope
The morning sun cast everything in gold.
I stood in Faith’s bedroom, staring at my reflection in the mirror while my sisters moved around me like a gentle current.
Charity was pinning my hair—simple, loose waves pulled back from my face with small white flowers tucked into the strands.
Joy was smoothing the fabric of my dress, a simple white cotton sundress with lace trim that Faith had pulled from the back of her closet.
“It was mine,” Faith had said quietly when she’d handed it to me. “From a lifetime ago. Before everything got complicated.”
I’d taken it with trembling hands, feeling the weight of what she was giving me. Not just a dress, but a piece of herself. A piece of her own dreams.
“You look beautiful,” Faith said now, standing behind me in the mirror. Her hands rested on my shoulders, and I saw tears shining in her eyes.
“I look terrified,” I whispered.
“You look like a bride.” She squeezed my shoulders gently. “And you look happy. That’s all that matters.”
Charity stepped back, admiring her handiwork. “There. Perfect.”
Joy clapped her hands together, bouncing on her toes. “Chapman’s going to lose his mind when he sees you.”
I laughed, the sound shaky. “He’s already lost his mind. That’s why we’re doing this.”
“No,” Faith said firmly, turning me to face her. “You’re doing this because you love him. Because you chose him. Don’t ever forget that, Hope. This is your choice.”
I nodded, swallowing hard against the lump in my throat. “I know.”
“Good.” She cupped my face in her hands, her thumbs brushing away the tears that had started to fall. “Then let’s go get you married.”
The ceremony was held in the backyard, near the greenhouse where Faith and I had sat just days ago while I’d poured out my heart. It was small. Intimate. Exactly what I wanted.
Chapman stood beneath the arbor with Digger at his side, both of them in dark jeans and clean button-down shirts. Chapman’s face was still bruised, his ribs still taped beneath his shirt, but he stood tall and steady, his eyes locking on me the moment I stepped out of the house.
Reaper stood between them, his expression unreadable as he watched me approach.
I walked slowly, my hand tucked into the crook of Zeke’s arm. He’d offered without a word, and I’d accepted because despite everything—despite the fight and the harsh words and the pain—he was still my brother, and I loved him.
“Are you sure about this?” he murmured as we walked.
“I’m sure,” I whispered back.
He nodded, his jaw tight. “Then I’m with you. All the way.”
When we reached the arbor, Zeke placed my hand in Chapman’s and stepped back, taking his place beside Joan. Chapman’s fingers closed around mine, warm and strong, and I felt the tremor in his grip.
“Hey,” I whispered.
“Hey,” he whispered back, his voice rough. “You look—God, Hope, you’re so beautiful.”
I smiled, tears blurring my vision. “So are you.”
Reaper cleared his throat, and the small gathering fell silent.
“We’re here today,” Reaper began, his voice carrying across the yard, “to witness the union of Chapman Moore and Hope Owens. This ain’t a traditional ceremony, because we ain’t traditional people. But what we are is family. And family stands together, no matter what.”
I glanced at the small crowd. Charity and Joy stood beside me, both of them crying openly. Joan stood beside Zeke, her hand in his. Stella was beside Digger, holding his hand, grinning like she’d won the lottery. And in the back, arms crossed over their chests, stood Balthazar and Sandman.
Neither was smiling, but they were here.
And that was enough.
“Chapman,” Reaper said, turning to him. “Do you take this woman as your ol’ lady? To love her, protect her, and stand beside her through whatever hell comes your way?”
Chapman’s eyes never left mine. “I do.”
“Hope,” Reaper continued, his gaze shifting to me. “You sure about this one? Say the word and Balthazar will have you outta here fast.”
I smirked. “I’m sure.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.” The president of the Golden Skulls winked, then clearly said, “Hope, do you accept Slaughter to be your ol’ man? To love him, support him, and give him hell when he pisses you off?”
I took a shaky breath, feeling the weight of the moment settle over me like a blanket. “I do.”
Reaper nodded. “Then by the power vested in me by absolutely fucking nobody, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Chapman, kiss your ol’ lady before I change my fucking mind.”
Chapman didn’t hesitate. He pulled me close, his hands framing my face, and kissed me with a tenderness that made my knees weak. Our family erupted into applause and cheers, and I heard Stella’s voice rise above the rest.
“About damn time!”
I laughed against Chapman’s lips, and he smiled, pulling back just enough to rest his forehead against mine.
“You’re mine now,” he whispered.
“I’ve always been yours,” I whispered back.
The rest of the day passed in a blur.
There was cake—lemon-lavender, made by Charity because mine would have been inedible. There were hugs and congratulations, and Digger slapping Chapman on the back hard enough to make him wince. There was Stella pulling me aside to whisper, “You did good, honey. Real good.”
And then, too soon, it was time to leave.
Chapman and I were heading to Tennessee. To the Golden Skulls’ clubhouse. To his life, his world, his daughter. To our future.
I stood in my bedroom, staring at the small suitcase on my bed. It didn’t hold much—a few changes of clothes, some toiletries, the jasmine soap I’d made weeks ago. Everything else would be shipped later, but this felt so final. So permanent.
“You okay?”
I turned to find Faith standing in the doorway, her arms wrapped around herself.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I think so. Maybe.”
She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. “It’s okay to be scared, Hope. It’s okay to feel like you’re leaving pieces of yourself behind.”
“I feel like I’m leaving you behind,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “And I don’t know how to do that.”
Faith’s face crumpled, and she crossed the room in three quick steps, pulling me into her arms. I buried my face in her shoulder and cried as deep, wrenching sobs shook my entire body.
“I can’t do this without you,” I choked out. “Faith, I can’t.”
“Yes, you can,” she said fiercely, her hands gripping the back of my dress. “You’re the strongest person I know, Hope. You’ve always been strong. You just didn’t see it.”
“You made me strong,” I said, pulling back to look at her. “You held me together when I was falling apart. You were there when no one else was. You’ve been more of a mother to me than Mom ever was, and I don’t know how to leave you.”
Faith’s tears were falling freely now, and she cupped my face in her hands. “You’re not leaving me, Hope. You’re just starting a new chapter. And I’ll be here, cheering you on every step of the way.”
“But I won’t see you every day,” I said, my voice breaking. “I won’t wake up to you drinking my terrible coffee or hear you humming in the greenhouse or—”
“You’ll call me,” Faith interrupted gently. “Every day if you need to. And I’ll visit. And you’ll come home. This isn’t goodbye forever, Hope. It’s just goodbye for now.”
I nodded, even though it didn’t feel like enough. Nothing felt like enough.
“I love you,” I whispered. “So much.”
“I love you too,” Faith said, pulling me close again. “More than you’ll ever know.”
We stood there for a long time, holding each other, neither of us willing to let go. I memorized the feel of her arms around me, the scent of lavender in her hair, the steady rhythm of her breathing.
This was the woman who had bathed me after the pond. Who had held me while I cried over Chapman. Who had stood beside me when my brothers tried to tear us apart.
This was the woman who had raised me when our mother couldn’t.
And I was leaving her.
“Hope?” Chapman’s voice drifted up the stairs, gentle and cautious. “We should probably get going soon.”
Faith pulled back, wiping at her tears with the back of her hand. “He’s right. You don’t want to be driving in the dark.”
I nodded, swallowing hard. “Okay.”
She picked up my suitcase and handed it to me, her smile watery but genuine. “Come on. Let’s get you on the road.”
The family was gathered on the porch when we came downstairs.
Charity and Joy stood together, both of them crying as Nevil wrapped his arms around them. Joan had her arm around Zeke, who looked like he was barely holding it together. Stella and Digger were already sitting on his bike, waiting patiently.
And Chapman stood at the bottom of the porch steps, his eyes on me.
Balthazar had left early, needing to get back to Ari and the girls. He had hugged me tightly and whispered, “Be happy, Hope,” and then rode off on his bike without looking back. I knew it was hard for him, accepting Chapman, accepting this life I had chosen. But he’d done it anyway.
Reaper and Sandman had left the night of the ceremony, heading to Nebraska to deal with whatever crisis was brewing there. Reaper had pulled me aside before he left and said, “You made the right choice, kid. Don’t let anyone tell you differently.”
Now it was just us. The family I was leaving behind.
Charity was the first to reach me, throwing her arms around my neck. “I’m going to miss you so much,” she sobbed.
“I’ll miss you too,” I whispered, holding her tight. “But you’ll visit, right? You and Nevil?”
“Every chance we get,” she promised, pulling back to wipe at her tears. “And you better call me. Every day.”
“Every day,” I agreed.
Joy was next, her hug fierce and desperate. “Don’t forget about me,” she said, her voice muffled against my shoulder.
“Never,” I said firmly. “You’re my baby sister, Joy. I could never forget you.”
Joan hugged me next, her embrace warm and steady. “Take care of yourself, Hope. And take care of him too.”
“I will,” I promised.