Epilogue
EIGHTEEN MONTHS LATER: CARLY
“W ere you this nervous?” I ask Ruth. “Before you walked through the doors?”
“No, sweetie,” she says. “I was excited. What are you nervous about?”
“That it’s all going to go terribly,” I say, flapping my hands and walking in a circle. “That everything’s going to explode. That Gabe’s not even going to be there.”
She takes both my hands and hers, and I stare down at her perfect manicure. “Okay, hon, listen to me. Everything’s fine. Gabe is there. I know this for a fact because I’ve checked. You look stunning. Your dress is not going to fall off. People are there. This is going to be just fine.”
“But—”
She interrupts me before I can spiral any further. “No buts. Just because you didn’t plan it yourself doesn’t mean this wedding is going to be terrible. Little Henry is out there right now, delighting everyone. John’s holding him, and everything is absolutely fine. I promise.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
She says it with such certainty that I can’t do anything but believe her.
“I didn’t realize getting married was stressful,” I say.
Ruth laughs heartily, the sun sparkling off her own wedding ring. “You’re a wedding planner.”
“Yes, wedding planner. Not wedding haver.”
“If you want to run now, I’ll hold the door open.”
“No,” I scoff. “Of course not.”
“Well, then. You’ll have to go through that door.”
When Gabe proposed to me, I thought it was the most romantic thing that had ever happened. Henry was born in October. A month later, Gabe unplugged the battery from my car. He made me panic about it being broken, dragged it off to his shop, and surprised me with a flash proposal. Phoebe was there filming the whole thing.
No doubt most of this was her idea.
It was obvious that he was nervous because he was shaking as he brought me into the shop. Before I realized what was going on, I thought he must have been coming down with something. But then the light dimmed, and he dropped down on one knee, and of course, I said yes, there and then.
How could I not?
Now it’s August and the sun is shining over Mullen Falls, the winter nothing but a freezing memory. I told Gabe that I was not getting married in the winter, and he agreed completely. August seemed like the perfect time — almost a year since our son’s birth and a beautiful time to be outside.
We’ve reused the benches from Ruth and John’s wedding, and everyone else in our lives has come together to help us plan.
Even Jensen came to lend a hand, helping us to arrange flowers after he realized his previous behavior was out of line.
“You ready?” Ruth asks.
I swallow hard and clasp my shaking hands together in front of me. “Now or never, I guess.”
“It’s just the rest of your life.” She winks.
“Why did I make you my head bridesmaid again?”
She grins. “Because you love me, and I’m your best friend.”
And it’s true. She’s the friend I didn’t know I needed.
“Let’s get this over, then.”
Ruth opens the door, signals for music, and I step out into the sunlight.
Everyone turns to look at me, but all I can focus on is Gabe. There it is — that look in his eyes, the one that I always hoped I would see. The look that tells me that I’m his world.
I hope he can see that I’m giving him the same look in return.
I hurry up the aisle, and my distraction is only broken by hearing Henry babbling behind me. I turn to look at John, who gives me a thumbs-up.
The officiant smiles and nods, and we turn to face her, giving her our full concentration.
The ceremony passes in a blur. We decided not to write our own vows because Gabe didn’t want to. I’d always thought I would be furious about that, but I know it’s because Gabe is awkward to reveal his feelings like this in public.
Turns out I don’t need him to declare to the world how much he loves me — because I know it. I’d know it even if he said nothing.
“Do you, Gabe Fox, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
“I do.”
“Do you, Carly Whitlock, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
“I do.”
“Then I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
Gabe leans in to kiss me, and the cheering and clapping behind us fade away into a dull noise. The only thing that matters right now is Gabe.
As we kiss, flashes of the last year burst through my mind: Gabe sitting with me as I gave birth, the look in his eyes the first time he held our child, the winter nights we spent together in each other’s arms, Gabe helping to transform the spare room into a nursery, taking Henry out for walks together, dressing him in hats and socks. Being there for every step.
We pull away, and Gabe takes my hand. I squeeze his in return, and we rush out of the public gaze. As soon as no one is looking, we relax, and he kisses me again, sweeping me up into his arms and lifting me off the floor. I yelp in surprise and giggle. “Okay, stop it!”
“No, Mrs. Fox. I think I will not stop it.”
“Well, Mr. Fox.” I grin. “Here’s to the rest of our lives.”
“Let’s take it one step at a time,” he says, but he can’t hide his smile.
“Starting with tonight,” I say.
“And what exactly do you have in mind for tonight?” He raises both eyebrows.
“Well,” I say, pushing my body against his, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. “I was thinking it might be nice for Henry to have a sibling.”
“Oh, were you?” he says, playing along with me. “Well, I could be persuaded to give that a try.”
“I was hoping that would be your answer,” I agree and kiss him again.
The rest of our lives, together.
The future’s looking bright.
The End