Epilogue Part One
Four Months Later
EVIE
“You ready Baby Girl?” Vic calls out.
“Ready or not it’s happening.”
I step out of the suite where I’d been getting ready and find the old sailor waiting to walk me down the aisle. Vic’s hand go to his mouth as his eyes glisten with unshed tears. He stands there, staring at me like I’ve always imagined dads looking at their daughters on their wedding day—the way I’ve seen in movies but never thought I’d experience myself.
A lump forms in my throat, and I have to fight back tears of my own. Vic’s the dad I’d prayed for as a little girl. He just came into my life later than I’d hoped, but in this moment, I couldn’t have asked for anyone better.
“Is the dress to much?”
The dress hugs my curves in a way that feels effortlessly classy, with a fitted silhouette, a deep V-neckline, and delicate, thin straps that add just the right touch of sophistication .
Textured floral appliqués cascade over the fabric, giving it a romantic, almost dreamlike feel. The moment I slipped it on, I knew—it was the one.
The sheer veil completes the look, adding an ethereal quality that makes me feel like I’m floating. And when I walked out of the dressing room, the expressions on everyone’s faces said it all. This dress isn’t just perfect—it’s made for me.
Maddox Wilder is going to swallow his damn tongue when he sees me coming down the aisle.
“No Evie, if anything it fails in comparison to you.”
My fingers drift to the scar on my chest, a habit I can’t seem to break. Vic notices, his eyes softening as a slow smile tugs at his lips.
“Damn, Baby Girl,” he says, shaking his head. “Look at you—from death’s doorstep to walking down the aisle.”
I grin, letting a playful wink slip. “What can I say? I like to live life from one extreme to the next.”
Vic grabs my bouquet and hands it to me before taking my arm in his. “Understatement of the fucking year, Baby Girl.”
The bouquet is a beautiful blend of wildflowers in varying shades of burgundy, green, and ivory, perfectly capturing the earthy, romantic vibe of the day. With everything going on—opening The Wild Whisk, Maddox selling his house, and just life in general—we had handed off most of the wedding planning to Maggie, something she was more than thrilled to take on. Truth be told, Maddox and I don’t really care about the details; all that matters to us is each other.
We decided the lodge by the lake was the perfect spot for our wedding. The trees have just begun to change, surrounding the lake with rich hues of red and orange, reflecting the season’s transformation. It feels like a symbol of everything we’ve gone through in the past year—both together and apart. A reminder of the changes, the growth, and the beauty that’s come from the challenges we’ve faced.
Not to mention, Maggie has truly outdone herself with the preparations and decorating. She even roped Joe into helping, though I know she wouldn’t have missed it for the world, no matter how much she grumbled. Maggie had an itinerary for everyone, putting them to work the moment they arrived. I joked that she should consider wedding planning now that she was retired. Joe shot me a look that clearly said, "Shut up," knowing as well as I did that she was getting dragged along for the ride. But when Maggie’s face lit up at my suggestion, I couldn’t help but laugh—especially at the look of mock horror on Joe’s face.
The lodge has a path that leads to an opening that faces the water. Maggie’s set up an archway that’s draped in delicate ivy and soft white fabric, gently fluttering in the cool breeze, as if nature itself is blessing the moment. It’s adorned with wildflowers—deep burgundy dahlias, creamy ivory roses, and lush greenery, woven together in a way that look effortlessly wild, yet perfectly composed, like they belong in the heart of the fall landscape.
The reception area is a beautiful extension of the ceremony’s theme, with floral arrangements echoing the same deep burgundy, green, and ivory tones. The tables are adorned with lush centerpieces, and wildflowers dot every corner, their untamed beauty adding a whimsical contrast to the formal elegance of the space. The rich burgundy gives it just the right edge, making everything feel bold yet romantic. I can’t help but think Maggie has captured the very essence of our love, bringing it to life in a way I hadn’t even imagined.
As Vic and I head towards the little path that will take me to my forever I hesitate slightly. Vic stops and raises an eyebrow. “Are you okay? Because you say the word and we leave right now, no questions asked.”
I know he means it. He doesn’t care about anything except me. He puts me and the boys above everything, just like a father should. In this moment, I realize the sting of growing up without a dad doesn’t hurt as much as it used to. It isn’t because the ache has gone away—it’s because I have Vic. And I know, deep down, that most people go through their whole lives never having someone like him. Someone who can look at another person and choose to love them, without hesitation. It’s that choice—the act of choosing love—that makes Vic and Joe feel like so much more than just ‘mom’ and ‘dad.’ They’re something deeper, something more.
“You really are the best dad a girl could have ever hoped to have.”
Vic takes a shaky breath at my words, his eyes softening with emotion. He clears his throat, trying to hide the lump forming there, but I can see it—the way my words have hit him deep, just as they’ve hit me.
The mention of the word ‘dad’ makes my back break out in a cold sweat.
“Vic, can you tell?” I move my bouquet and nod towards my midsection.
Vic looks down and back at me. “Evie, you didn’t tell him?”
I shake my head.
Vic is the only person who knows I’m pregnant. After I peed on the strip and saw the positive result, my first instinct was to go to Vic. I walked over, shaking like a leaf, and just sat beside him. I knew I needed to wait—wait until I was sure the baby was healthy before telling Maddox. The thought of telling him and then something going wrong…it would destroy him. And I couldn’t be the one to bring him that kind of pain.
My sonogram two weeks ago showed a healthy baby, measuring two weeks ahead. I was nine weeks then, which put me at eleven weeks today. Don’t get me wrong, I want nothing more than to share this with Maddox, but a part of me is afraid. Afraid that the other shoe will drop, even though I had promised myself I wouldn’t live in fear anymore. What if Maddox isn’t quite ready for this? He’s only just started processing his grief over losing Livvy. It feels so fucked up. Here I am, trying to protect him, but I can’t shake the feeling that by keeping this to myself, I might be hurting him even more.
Vic gives me a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry Baby Girl. That man loves you, anything else you give him makes him the luckiest bastard in the world, he knows it too.”
With a gentle pat of my hand, he continues leading us down the path to the water. Once we arrive all our family and friends stand.
My eyes find him instantly. Maddox stands at the front, waiting for me, looking like something out of a dream in his tailored black tux. It fits him perfectly, making my knees weak as I take him in. His thick hair is combed back, though one unruly curl has slipped free, falling playfully over his forehead. I watch as he adjusts his glasses, tugging nervously at the collar of his shirt—a sight so foreign to me that it pulls at my heart. This man is never nervous. He radiates confidence, wearing it as effortlessly as he says the word pussy.
Then I look at my boys, standing on either side of Mercy, dressed in matching black tuxedos that mirror Maddox’s. My heart swells with pride. They look like little versions of him, standing there with expressions of awe on their faces. Charlie reaches out and takes Maddox’s hand as I continue down the path, and I give him a wink before turning my focus back to Maddox. The sight of them, all standing there, fills me with more love than I ever thought possible.
Our eyes connect, and I find myself adrift in those stormy green depths, completely at his mercy. In his gaze, I see everything—his love, his devotion to me—each emotion unspoken, yet louder than words ever could be. I’m lost in it, feeling the weight of his feelings as if they’re wrapping around me, pulling me closer to him.
“Hey Big Guy,” I mouth to him.
He gives me a wicked smile, his eyes dark with purpose, and prowls toward me, completely ignoring both the fact I haven’t made it completely down the aisle to him and his mother’s protests. Every step he takes is full of confidence, the tension between us building with each one, as if nothing else in the room matters except getting closer to me.
MADDOX
One look at the vision walking down the aisle to me and I know God has favorites.
She stands there like a dream, draped in a dress that seems crafted just for her, the fabric clinging to her curves without revealing too much. Her body is an intoxicating sight, confident and poised, yet sensual in its restraint. Her hair falls in loose waves, half pinned back in an intricate style that looks both effortless and deliberate.
I can’t wait, I have to go get my girl.
“You just couldn’t let me have my fucking moment, could you?” Vic demands the second I reach them and run a finger affectionately down the scar on her chest.
“Ask him Mercy,” I call out to my baby brother waiting close to the water’s edge to marry us. Evie insisted the little shit marry us and honestly, I agreed. It just felt right.
My eyes never leave her as my brother says something about me being a barbarian before asking loud enough to wake the dead, “Who gives this man to this woman?”
“I do,” Vic returns.
“Hey! You bastard we agreed!” Aunt Joe retorts.
Vic rolls his eyes. “Her mama and I do.”
Someone behind me sharply inhales and I know it’s Aunt Joe. Vic has both just one upped the old crow and said something meaningful. Aunt Joe’s going to be in knots about this.
Vic turns and gently cups Evie’s face in both his hands. “I love you Baby Girl, you and those boys are the things I’m most proud of. ”
He gently kisses both her cheeks before making his way to sit by Aunt Joe. He puts an arm around her shoulders and tells her what a good job they’ve done and to quit being so damn dramatic.
I take his spot and finish walking Evie down the path to the water’s edge. Both boys rush to shower their mother with hugs and compliments. Compliments that pale in comparison to her, but their fucking seven not seventy so they don’t know that.
There are no words that could ever do justice to this moment, to her. I watch in awe as she silently hands off her bouquet, then turns to face me, taking my hands in hers. The world around us fades, my brother’s words becoming a distant hum as she pulls me in completely—not just with her beauty, but with the raw, undeniable strength of her spirit. In that instant, something inside me shifts. I know, with a certainty that cuts deep, that I have to die before her, because I can’t imagine living a single day without her by my side.
Henry stands and hands her a piece of paper, and as he takes his spot between mama and Lou, he flashes me a proud smile that I quickly return. Daddy died when I was so young I can hardly recall him, but Henry takes resident in every memory I have growing up. From teaching me how to cast a fishing pole to how to throw a punch. I didn’t know until this moment how much him being proud of me meant. To think I isolated myself for so long from my family and for what?
“Evie has prepared some words to share with you today,” my brother tells me.
Evie flashes me a coy smile before speaking. “It’s only been a year, but it feels like we’ve lived life in reverse. From one of my wild children climbing your roof.”
I look at Bash and smile. I thank God every day that rambunctious hellion climbed my roof that day.
“To accidentally tasing you, making you pee yourself on my front porch. ”
Laughter erupts around us, and I find myself laughing along as well. Damned woman.
“From the very first night you knocked on my door, returning our dog, I told myself—that man is walking devastation. A part of me pulled back instinctively on edge, but another part, the part I couldn’t fight, was drawn to you. I couldn’t understand how someone I barely knew could make me feel so much, so quickly. But slowly, little by little, I began to see you. I saw the way you hid the most fragile parts of yourself, buried deep beneath the weight of grief, keeping those pieces of you that still longed to be loved locked away. Once I saw that I promised myself I would possess every fragment of your broken heart, hold it gently, and help you heal the parts you thought were beyond saving.”
I cup her face. “You did, Pretty Girl.”
“Her vows asshole. Shut up,” Mercy hisses beside me.
Evie holds the paper, but her eyes never leave mine. “You gave me back parts of myself I thought I’d lost forever—pieces I didn’t even realize were missing. You’ve shown me what it truly feels like to be cherished, loved in a way I never thought possible. You helped me find my strength again, to become my own hero. And you saved me—not because I asked for it, but because you knew it was time someone did. All the while fighting to keep your own head above water, trying not to let grief drown you.”
I’ve never felt so seen by another person, but she isn’t just any person, she’s my fucking person.
“I promise to be the light when you’re lost in the dark, the one who’ll always be there to help guide you through when things feel impossible. I’ll be your strength when you feel like you don’t have enough left to give, the steady presence you can always count on. I’ll remind you of your worth on the days you forget, and I’ll help you carry the weight of whatever hurts when you need me to, but I won’t let it take over.”
She pauses and gives me a watery smile before continuing, “Most of all, Maddox Cole, I promise to give you all of me—every part of me, even the rough edges and the scars, because that’s exactly what you’ve given me. You’ve shown me what it means to be truly loved, to be accepted for everything I am, and I’m going to spend the rest of my life loving you the same way. With everything I’ve got.”
Her soft hand gently brushes away the single tear that slipped down my cheek, and with a tender touch she traces the scar across my lips. “I love you,” she whispers, her voice low and full of warmth, like a promise only she can keep.
“I love you, Pretty Girl,” I whisper back, my voice raw.
“Mercy, ask her.”
My brother smacks his lips clearly frustrated with my fucking up his grand performance, but not one part of me gives a fuck.
“Mercy,” I warn.
“Fine, fine. Evie do you?—"
“Fuck yeah she does,” I answer for her before crashing my mouth onto hers.
Cheers and hollers fill the air as I kiss my wife. She ends the kiss way sooner than I would have liked and I put my forehead against hers staring into those captivating eyes.
“I’m adopting my boys and giving them our last name.”
She laughs softly. “Damn straight.”