Epilogue
Parker
Six months later
It didn’t turn out exactly as I pictured it.
I wasn’t the one who caught the game-winning touchdown. That was Beckett. But somehow, being the one to throw the pass was even better.
The defense never saw the play coming because we’d never used it before. For the last three weeks in practice, we’d run it over and over and over until I could see it behind my eyes when I tried to sleep. Christian ducked back like he was going to throw, and with the offensive line pulling to the right, it faked the defense into going left.
As they beared down on Christian, thinking that the game was in the bag, he tossed the ball to me, the perfect lateral pass. Instead of sprinting forward like they expected me to, I set my feet and threw a tight spiral past the outstretched fingertips of a cornerback. It sailed fifteen yards and landed neatly into Beckett’s waiting hands. He tucked it into his chest and shouldered the remaining three yards into the end zone.
The stadium erupted.
One of our offensive linemen picked me up with a celebratory roar. When he set me down, I took off running toward the end zone, wrapping Beckett in a massive back-thumping hug.
“Nice throw, asshole,” he said, slapping me on the helmet.
I shoved at his chest with a laugh, then took off for the only person I wanted to see.
She was in the front row of the end zone, with Voyagers fans all around her, jumping and screaming and giving her high fives. Isabel saw me first and touched Anya on the shoulder.
I took a running leap toward the front row, and as soon as my hands wrapped around the bar in front of my wife, I hoisted myself up to sit on the edge and gathered her in my arms. She was sobbing.
“You did it,” she said between tears. “You did it, Parker.”
“God, I want to kiss you right now,” I told her.
Her eyes glittered. “And get a flag for removing your helmet? Don’t you dare.”
I sighed roughly. “Might be worth it.”
She pulled back and laughed. “Go, you’re going to get in trouble.”
Anya pushed me back, and I gave her a wink before I dropped back down onto the field to join my team.
After the extra point, and a kick return that didn’t amount to anything as the clock ran out, the game was over, and after the fierce hugs and the celebrations with my team, I found myself standing at the fifty-yard line, staring around the stadium with tears in my eyes.
That was when I heard her voice. “Parker!”
I turned, weaving between the crowds filling the field. Familiar faces congratulated me, so did strangers. But all I saw was her.
When the crowd cleared, I started jogging, and so did she. I held my arms open, and she leaped, her arms tight around my neck, her feet dangling off the ground as I clutched her tight to my chest. Whatever grip I’d managed on my emotions was fucking destroyed, and I buried my face into her neck while we both cried.
“I am so proud of you, baby,” she said. “That was the best thing I’ve ever seen.”
I lifted my head and kissed her. Kissed her like I’d wanted to earlier. Kissed her like I did every night when we went to bed. Like I’d do for the rest of our lives.
“I love you,” I told her. She brushed her thumb over my cheek. “I love you so much.”
Anya smiled through her tears. “I love you too.”
Someone touched my shoulder. It was Aiden, holding Leo in his arms and smiling. Leo was wearing a tiny Wilder jersey with big headphones over his ears. When he saw me, he reached his arms out, his two little front teeth popping through his gums as he smiled.
I took him from my father-in-law and accepted his congratulations as Leo laid his head on my shoulder, and I rubbed his back. I kissed the side of his head and locked eyes with Anya where she stood with her dad’s arm around her shoulders.
She held out her hand, and I took it, weaving our fingers together.
Leo’s head popped up, and he gasped, hand reaching toward the sky.
The confetti—blue and green and white—caught the lights as it fell, and the three of us stared up at it. The awe in Leo’s face was better than any second of any celebration, as was the pride in Anya’s face as she tucked herself into my side.
“You just won the Super Bowl,” she said, staring adoringly up into my face.
“I told you you were my good luck charm, didn’t I?”
She laughed, and I leaned down to kiss her while Leo reached up for confetti. The shot ended up on the cover of Sports Illustrated the next week. I framed it in my office next to Anya’s first sketch of the three birds, the one that ended up being the cover of Vida’s and her first bestselling book— The Baby and the Birds . They were turning it into a series, along with their other characters, and I was so fucking proud of her. I’d bought copies for everyone on staff with the Voyagers and told the guys if they didn’t read it to their kids, I’d hunt them down.
It was surprisingly effective.
Four months later
“That should do it.”
The judge handed her gavel over to me and Anya, her pleased grin growing wide when Leo tried to snatch it for himself.
“Daddy,” Leo said. “Daddy, mine.”
“Let’s do this one together, little lion,” Anya said, wrapping her hands around his. I curled my hand around Anya’s. “Now hit it right there on that little circle.”
His face scrunched up in concentration, his tongue tucked between his teeth as he directed it right to where she was pointing.
The tapping sound of the gavel against the wood was followed by the applause and cheers of the courtroom filled to the brim with Anya’s family and mine. Sheila and Paige Ward held each other and cried in the front row, and even Ian looked like he was fighting tears.
Anya leaned into my shoulder and wept quietly as she kissed the top of Leo’s head.
We received one letter from Leo’s biological mom the week before he turned one. She was doing better, and she was happy for us, and loved watching how happy Leo was. She wished us luck and gave us her blessing for Anya to adopt Leo.
We finalized the court paperwork on the anniversary of the day he appeared on the doorstep.
With suspiciously red eyes, Ivy motioned for us to get closer, and she held up an expensive camera and took a few pictures. A week later, a framed print showed up with the date engraved along the bottom. We set it on Leo’s dresser, next to a picture of him and Spike cuddled on the couch.
Later that evening, as the celebration wound down, Sheila found me sitting on the back deck. Anya and I bought a new house after the season was done. It had two more bedrooms, a huge backyard, and complete privacy.
Leo ran around in the grass, his cousins chasing him. He tripped and toppled forward, and I watched to see if he would start crying, but when Sage crouched down in front of him, he started giggling, flopping forward again to see if she’d laugh.
She did.
“He’s such a happy boy,” Sheila said, leaning her head on my shoulder.
“The happiest.” I kissed the top of her head. “Even if you do spoil him terribly.”
“I spoil all my grandkids equally, young man.”
I laughed.
Across the deck, Anya caught my eye and smiled. In her arms, she rocked Greer and Beckett’s newborn boy. Eventually, we’d add another to our family, but we weren’t in a rush. Sometimes I worried that I’d wake up and this would all be a dream. That my life couldn’t possibly be this sweet. But every morning, she was there. Every night, I fell asleep with her in my arms and wondered how I could keep having the best day of my life, again and again and again.
“I have something for you,” Sheila said quietly. “Can you come inside with me a minute?”
“Lead the way.”
We were the only ones inside the house as she walked to where she’d left her purse. She gave me a quick look before unzipping the middle compartment.
“I’ve always wondered what you keep in there,” I mused. “I bet we could fit at least three small children in that thing.”
She huffed, but a smile tugged at her lips as she pulled out a white envelope. Before she handed it to me, she took a deep breath.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
Her eyes filled with tears. “He wanted me to wait to give you this until your first child turned one.”
My eyes flew to the envelope, and when she turned it over, the sight of his handwriting made my heart stop.
“That’s from …”
She nodded slowly. “If you’re not ready to read it now, that’s okay.”
The envelope was light when she laid it in my hand, and I could hardly breathe. “Do you know what it says?”
Sheila shook her head. “He said it was between you and him. You don’t have to share it with anyone if you don’t want to.”
My vision was blurry as I stared down at his neat, block penmanship. “Can you send Anya in?”
She smiled. “Of course.”
I wrapped Sheila in a hug and tried to settle the flurry of nerves in my stomach.
For so long, you think about what you’d give for one last hug, one last goodbye, one last I love you . And now I had something of him that I didn’t have before. And because he knew me well enough to wait, I was going to be able to read it at a time when I could actually see it for the gift that it was.
My hands were steady as I pulled open the envelope, but I had to blink the tears free from my eyes before I opened it to read. The mattress sank as Anya joined me. She slid her arm around my back and laid her chin on her shoulder as I started reading.
Parker,
The most incredible privilege of my life has been the love that I’ve experienced. Your mother. Sheila. And my children. But sometimes the hardest thing about loving someone is the restraint required to love them well.
I asked Sheila to wait to give you this until you were a father, and as I sit here writing this, my heart feels such joy at the thought of you with children. You will be so good, Parker. There isn’t a single shred of doubt about that. You will move heaven and earth for whoever fills these spaces in your life.
Loving you well, my son, has meant giving you time. And I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you every single day that goes by when I don’t hear your voice, when I don’t get to hug you. But not once, not even for a single second, have I loved you less because of that space that you needed.
Imagining you as a father, as a husband, is a balm to my tired heart. It’s the same for all your siblings, and I hope that you know that whatever sadness I might feel at missing so many moments, it is quickly extinguished by gratitude at having been able to love you, all of you, no matter how long that time was.
Your life will be a great one, Parker, because I know you’ve allowed yourself to love and be loved in return. That someday, you’ll feel the same gratitude that I feel now at having a life well spent.
Thank you for being my son. For letting me live on in you and in the legacy of the family you have now.
Build a life you’re proud of, Parker. You’ll find, as I did, that there’s nothing better in the world.
When I folded the letter, Anya stroked the side of my face with the backs of her fingers. I took her hand in mine and pressed my lips to her knuckles, letting my lips linger at her fingertips.
“You okay?” she asked quietly.
I was building a life. Had been from the moment I met her. In every choice that led me to this exact moment. In the pain and the grief and the ability to forgive ourselves for our past. We’d both lost. Me and Anya. Me and my siblings. Sheila.
But life, it didn’t stop. We still had to show up for what came next, and I was so fucking glad I had. So glad she’d pushed me to, when I didn’t think I could push myself.
My dad would be so proud of us. All of us.
I closed my eyes and breathed her in, then turned and gave her a soft kiss. She let her forehead rest against mine while I waited for the ability to speak.
It took a few more seconds, and my voice was raw when I did.
“Marry me,” I said.
She raised her head, brow furrowed in a delicate little wrinkle. “What?”
I moved off the bed and kneeled in front of her. “Marry me again, Anya. In front of our family, in front of our friends. Where I can say our vows and kiss you in front of the people who know us best. Where your dad can walk you down the aisle, and I can cry when I see you in your dress. Leo can be the ring whatever that thing is called. And we’ll have a wedding picture that we can hang on the wall in this place our family calls home.” My chest ached from the force of how much I loved her. “Build this life with me. The way we always should have.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she smiled.
“Is that a yes?” I asked.
She sank onto the floor with me, our mouths meeting in a fierce kiss. “Yes,” she said against my mouth. “Yes. Yes .”
We got married three weeks later on a Saturday afternoon in the rain, underneath a clear glass roof of a chapel buried deep in the woods outside Seattle.
The rows were filled with our family. Anya and I had opted for a simple ceremony without attendants because we wanted this moment more than anything, more than any grand plans or big party. Instead, we opted to let our families sit and watch while we got the wedding we deserved.
The doors opened, revealing the most beautiful woman in the world draped in an elegant white dress that hung off her frame like she’d been born to wear it. Golden waves fell around her shoulders, and on her head was a delicate crown of white flowers.
Her arm was tucked into Aiden’s elbow, but her eyes were only for me.
Time stretched out, sweet and slow as she walked down the aisle to the string quartet playing in the corner.
“Mommy,” Leo called. “Is Mommy.”
A ripple of laughter filled the chapel. Anya grinned and gave him a little wave. Sheila whispered something in his ear, and next to her, Isabel handed our son a snack to keep him occupied.
I descended the two steps down to the end of the aisle, my ribs tight at the way her eyes glowed.
My wife.
My everything.
Aiden kissed his daughter’s cheek, his eyes full of tears. Isabel pressed a tissue underneath her eyes, and Sheila grabbed her hand.
Then Anya turned to me, and it was just us, the world around us fading as my brother Erik greeted the guests.
Anya’s finger wove through mine as we stared into each other’s eyes.
We exchanged rings—mine was a custom piece she’d designed with Ian, black metal with a small wooden inlay, something my brother made in his shop using wood from our parents’ cabin. Hers was a simple diamond band, the one she’d chosen after much discussion, and when it was in place on her finger, I let out a sigh of relief.
“ I love you ,” I mouthed.
She smiled.
“Anya and Parker have chosen to write their own vows,” Erik said. He smiled. “Anya, go ahead.”
She pulled in a sharp inhale, her gaze searching mine before she spoke.
“Parker,” she said, “I vow to choose you every day, not because I have to, but because I want to. I will stand by your side while you face the world and listen to you when you speak. I promise to join your laughter with my own, and when you can't look on the bright side, I will sit with you in the dark.” Her voice trembled, a single tear sliding down her cheek. I squeezed her hand, and she pulled in a shaky breath. “I vow to honor, respect, and cherish you in sickness and health, through sorrows and success, as long as I draw breath.”
After Erik told me it was my turn, I had to pause for a moment before I was able to speak. The sound of quiet weeping came from the pews, and I shook my head as I exhaled a soft laugh.
I sobered quickly, looking into her eyes, feeling as clearheaded as I had in my entire life.
“Anya,” I said, “I promise to be faithful and supportive and to always make you, make our family's love and happiness my priority. I vow to have the patience that love demands, to speak when words are needed, and to sit in the silence when they are not. I will be yours in plenty and in want, in sickness and in health, in failure and in triumph. I will dream with you, celebrate with you, and walk beside you through whatever our lives may bring. I pledge my love, devotion, faith, and honor as I pledge my life to yours. You are my person—my love and my life, today and always.”
She closed her eyes, squeezing a few more tears out.
Erik looked between us. “Anya and Parker, with the exchange of these rings and the vows that you’ve spoken, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” He smiled. “You may kiss your bride.”
With our family cheering and the heavens opening up above us, I cupped Anya’s face in my hands as she smiled.
“Finally,” I whispered.
The End