Epilogue Two
TORI
This entire day has been magical. A perfect Colorado day in late April.
The wedding ended hours ago, but the glow of it lingers.
The sky above the Rockies is a deep stretch of indigo, scattered with stars so sharp they look close enough to touch.
Strings of twinkle lights crisscross over the open lawn behind the lodge, each one flickering like a piece of captured starlight.
Laughter ripples from the tables, the clink of glasses blending with the swell of music from the speakers set up near the dance floor.
Dexter and Alis’s reception looks exactly like the kind of dream you don’t want to wake from.
And here I am, in the middle of it, swaying in Leo’s arms.
His palm rests firm against the small of my back, guiding me easily among the couples. My hand presses against his shoulder, my head tucked into the familiar steadiness of his chest. The music is slow, low, wrapping around us like a ribbon.
“Look at you, Tote,” he murmurs, his voice vibrating through me. “Acting like you actually like slow dances.”
I smile against his shirt. “I like them when I’m wiped out from a full day of wedding festivities, a little bit tipsy, and the dance is more like you rocking me to sleep for a standing nappy nap.”
He huffs out a laugh, the kind that never fails to loosen something tight inside me. “If you fall asleep while we’re dancing…”
“You’ll what? Think it’s adorable and carry me like a princess somewhere quiet to rest?” I tease, tilting my face up toward him.
His eyes catch the glow of the lights above us, dark and warm, steady as they meet mine. “Yeah. Probably.”
My smile is instant, undeniable—I love this man. “You’re the best.”
“The total package? The summation of everything you could ever want or need in a life partner?” he asks, and I laugh softly, snuggling back in.
“Something like that, yeah.”
He dips his head, pressing a quick kiss to my temple before pulling me closer. “You didn’t actually believe your nickname came from a dog, did you?”
“Wait, wha—”
“Shh. We’re dancing. And I almost had you rocked to sleep.” I let myself sink into him, into this night, into the rare and precious peace of being exactly where I want to be.
All around us, joy swirls: Skye laughing so loud her whole body shakes; Belanger cousins darting between tables; Dexter twirling Alis across the dance floor like he’s waited his whole life for this moment. It’s the kind of night that makes you believe in forever.
I’m just about to tell Leo that when a voice cuts through the music.
“Tori!”
I glance over his shoulder. Sunny darts across the lawn, her dress hitched up in one hand, curls bouncing with each hurried step. She’s barefoot, her shoes dangling from the other hand. She looks half amused, half concerned.
“Sorry!” she says, skidding to a stop beside us. “I wouldn’t interrupt, but your phone hasn’t stopped going off.”
She thrusts it toward me, the screen glowing with three back-to-back missed calls from the same number.
“They left a message,” Sunny explains quickly, her words tumbling out. “I figured if someone’s that persistent, it’s probably important.”
A pinch of unease coils low in my stomach.
“Thank you,” I say, forcing my voice even.
Sunny nods once, her usual brightness dimmed by curiosity she doesn’t voice, and then she disappears back into the crowd.
Leo studies my face. “Want to take it inside?”
“Yes,” I nod, my throat tight.
We step off the dance floor together. The music fades as we cross the lawn and push through the wide doors into the lodge.
The quiet inside is immediate, the thick wood beams and glass soaking up the sounds of celebration.
Twinkle lights from outside filter faintly through the windows, casting fractured patterns across the floor.
I lift the phone to my ear and press play.
“Hello, Mrs. Victoria Martin. This is Grant Medical Center. We have you listed as Chase Martin’s emergency contact. Mr. Martin has been admitted following a serious accident. He is unconscious but stable. Please give us a call at this number and head to the hospital as soon as possible.”
The words echo inside me, dull at first, then sharper with every repeat in my head. My knees weaken. Leo’s hand finds my elbow instantly, steadying me.
The second voicemail begins without warning.
“Hello again, Mrs. Martin. This is Grant Medical Center, calling again. If you could please return our call as soon as possible and please head this way immediately. Mr. Martin’s blood alcohol concentration was more than twice the legal limit.
He was not the only vehicle involved in the accident and police are present—”
A sob wrenches free before I can stop it. My hand clamps over my mouth, but the sound breaks anyway. My chest caves; my lungs burn; my vision swims.
Not the only vehicle involved.
The phrase carves itself into me, merciless.
I lift my eyes to Leo. Terror floods me, spilling over as tears streak hot down my cheeks. His gaze holds mine, steady, unwavering, even as I fall apart.
Without hesitation, he slides his hand up my arm, over my trembling fingers still clutching the phone. His palm is warm, firm. Gently, he eases the device from my grip and ends the message before it can go further.
Then he pulls me into his chest, wrapping me tight in his arms. I break against him, the sob tearing out louder this time, muffled by the fabric of his suit. He doesn’t flinch. He just holds me, solid and sure, while the world tilts on its axis.
His voice rumbles low against my hair, calm and deliberate.
“Here’s what’s going to happen. You can step into the bathroom if you need a minute, or sit right here.
I’ll grab your clutch and let Dexter and Alis know we have to leave.
If I see Skye, I’ll ask her to collect the rest of your things from upstairs.
If not, I’ll text her in a bit. I’m going to come right back here for you, and then we’ll go straight to the hospital, together.
I am driving. You don’t need to think about anything except breathing.
We’ll be there as soon as possible. We’ll make sure he’s alright. ”
He eases back just enough to cup my face in his hands, tilting it so I can’t look anywhere but at him. His thumbs brush away tears even as more spill over.
“Did you get all that?” he asks softly.
I nod, though the motion feels fragile, breakable.
“Good.” He presses his lips to my forehead, lingering there for one quiet beat. Then he lets go.
“I’ll be right back.”
The loss of his embrace leaves me unsteady. I sink into the nearest chair, my hands gripping the edge of the seat as if it might keep me from unraveling.
The reception hums faintly beyond the walls, muffled and distant. Out there, life goes on: laughter, music, joy. In here, everything feels fractured, like the air itself is too heavy to breathe.
I bury my face in my hands, but there’s no shutting it out. The words replay mercilessly: serious accident… unconscious but stable… over twice the legal limit… not the only vehicle involved.
Images slam into me—Chase behind the wheel, his jaw set in reckless defiance; headlights screaming across the dark road; the sickening crunch of impact.
My stomach twists so violently I think I might be sick.
I’m devastated. That he was drinking. That he drove. That he’s lying in a hospital bed, unconscious and broken.
Despite everything—despite all the nights I cried alone beside him, despite the verbal abuse and the neglect—I will always love him, and my heart aches at the thought of him like this. I never wanted any of this for him.
And I’m terrified. Terrified of what he’s done, of who else he might have hurt. Whoever was out there on that road tonight didn’t ask to be tethered to his spiral, to become collateral damage in his wreckage.
Tears burn tracks down my cheeks, my chest clenching tight with grief and guilt and fury and fear all tangled together.
Skye’s voice echoes in my mind. He’ll have to hit rock bottom before any lasting changes take effect. She was always so sure he’d have to completely fall apart if there was any hope of him being pieced back together.
Maybe she’s right. Maybe this is what it will take for him to heal.
I just never thought rock bottom would look like this.