Epilogue #2
The music starts—a soft swell of strings, lilting and dreamlike—and my heart leaps.
Through the veil, I see it all: the land around our lake transformed, draped in purple flowers and daisies, their petals swaying in the gentle breeze.
The water glimmers, reflecting the sun’s dying rays, casting the whole scene in a glow that feels unreal, but perfect.
Rows of chairs line the aisle, filled with faces—friends, family, Max’s colleagues—all turning to watch, their murmurs fading into the music.
At the altar, Max stands, tall and striking in his black tuxedo, his dark hair catching the light, his blue eyes fixed on me, intense and full of love.
His groomsmen stand beside him, and my bridesmaids—Ellie included—wait in their lavender dresses, smiling through tears.
The air smells of lake water and blooms, and my pulse races, my hands trembling in Ellen’s grip.
She guides me forward, my white dress trailing behind, its silk cool against my skin, the bodice fitted, the skirt flowing like a cloud.
Each step feels like a vow, bringing me closer to Max.
Max’s gaze never wavers, and when I reach him, his hands find mine, warm and steady.
He doesn’t kiss me—the minister hasn’t given the word—but his touch is electric, lighting a spark inside me, his eyes saying everything his lips can’t.
I’m shaking and speechless, my heart is so full it might burst.
I smile up at him, my veil a soft barrier between us.
A small gasp of appreciation ripples through the crowd, and we turn to see Jason, the most adorable groomsman in his tiny tuxedo, strutting down the aisle.
There's a velvet pillow clutched in his hands.
The rings are glinting in the sunlight. His dark curls bounce, his grin is wide and gorgeous, and his gray eyes sparkle with pride.
My chest aches with love for him. Max chuckles, low and warm, and I crouch down as Jason reaches us, my dress pooling on the floor.
“You look so handsome, little angel,” I say, as I pull him into a hug, and kiss his cheek.
He beams and hands the pillow to Max, who takes the rings.
The minister begins, his voice steady, weaving through the vows. Max speaks first, his words clear, fervent.
“Amelia, you’re my home, my heart, my everything. I promise to love you, to stand by you, to build a life with you, no matter what comes.” His eyes glisten.
I’m crying now, tears slipping beneath the veil as I echo him, my voice shaky but sure.
“Max, you’ve always been my light, my strength. I promise to love you, to cherish you, forever.”
We slide the rings onto each other’s fingers, the metal cool, binding, and the minister pronounces us husband and wife.
Max lifts my veil, his hands gentle, and kisses me, deep and fierce.
His lips are warm and taste of whiskey and love.
The crowd erupts into applause. Cheers and screams of celebration wash over us like a wave.
I’m laughing, crying, lost in this incredible, unbelievable, dream-like moment.
At the reception, the ballroom glows, fairy lights strung across the ceiling, tables laden with roses and candlelight. I dance with Ellie, my best friend, our heels clicking on the polished floor, her laughter bright as we spin to a lively jazz tune.
“You look like a fairy princess, Amelia,” she says, her eyes mischievous, twinkling. “This whole night—it’s like you stepped out of one of your books.”
I laugh, my heart light, as my eyes find Max across the room. He’s talking to a colleague, but his gaze keeps drifting to me, warm and possessive.
He breaks away, weaving through the crowd, a flute of champagne in his hand, the liquid catching the light like liquid gold.
“For you,” he says, offering it, his grin boyish. His tuxedo jacket is unbuttoned, revealing the crisp white shirt beneath, and I can't help but drool.
I shake my head, my smile soft but firm. “No thanks,” I say, my voice steady, though my heart races. His brow furrows, concern flickering in his eyes.
“You okay?” he asks, stepping closer, his voice low, searching my face. “You’re not drinking tonight.”
Ellie smirks, her eyes glinting with something cheeky, and slips away, murmuring, “I’ll leave you two to it.”
The music shifts, slowing to a sultry ballad, and I step into Max’s arms, my hands resting on his shoulders, his on my waist. We sway, the world fading to just us, the warmth of his body grounding me.
“I have a secret,” I whisper, my lips close to his ear, my voice trembling with excitement, nerves. He stills, his hands tightening on my hips, and pulls back, his blue eyes locking on mine, intense, searching.
“Something related to why you can’t drink?” he asks, his voice low, a hopeful edge to it, like he’s afraid to believe.
I nod, my throat tight, tears pricking my eyes. “Yes,” I say, my voice barely audible, a smile breaking through. “I’m pregnant.”
His eyes widen, tears fill them, and they shimmer in the candlelight. “You’re joking,” he says, his voice cracking, disbelieving.
“I’m not,” I laugh, soft and shaky, my hands gripping his jacket. “I’m serious, Max.”
His hand moves to my stomach, tentative, but I swat it away, glancing at the crowd around us, my cheeks flushing.
“Not here,” I murmur, but he’s already pulling me close, his lips crashing into mine, a deep, desperate kiss that steals my breath.
“Oh my God, I love you, Amelia. I love you so damn much,” he says against my mouth, his voice rough, trembling with joy. “Oh my God, thank you so much. Jason’s gonna be so freaking happy. I love you so much.”
I’m crying now, tears streaming, my heart deliriously happy, and I cling to him, my arms tight around his neck. “I love you too,” I whisper, my voice breaking.
He holds me tightly, his body a shield against the world. I vow to myself, swaying in his arms, to never let go, to hold on to this love, this family, forever.
Yup, they lived happily ever after…