Epilogue
Gretchen
My life has become an honest-to-goodness fairy tale, complete with a knight in shining armor.
Okay, my life is not a literal fairy tale.
But I feel like a princess who lived in a musty tower for years, until a Scottish knight showed me what real, soul-deep love really means.
Kirk Balfour showed me I could be more than a virtual assistant with a goofy roommate and two loving parents. I'm a badass too, as it turns out.
And I learned that thanks to the man I'm about to marry this afternoon in precisely fifteen minutes and thirty-two seconds, according to my phone.
Have we chosen a normal, sweetly romantic wedding?
Yeah, right. After having sex with Kirk in his Porsche while he was driving like a maniac, I can no longer claim to be a normal person anymore.
I'm so damn glad for that.
Our nuptials are taking place atop Aonach Eagach, the mountain that nearly killed my true love months ago. I was the one who suggested we should tie the knot at this location, and I expected Kirk to be shocked by that fact. But he wasn't surprised at all.
"I wouldnae have it any other way, mo chridhe," Kirk had said. "That mountain tried to best me, and now I'll show it who's truly victorious by claiming my bride atop its peak."
The memory makes me smile as I adjust the simple white dress I've chosen for the occasion.
It's hardly traditional---nothing about this wedding is---but it's perfect for climbing a mountain.
The lightweight fabric falls just below my knees, with enough stretch to allow me to move freely.
My bouquet is a small cluster of purple heather and white thistle, tied with a piece of Balfour tartan.
"Are you ready, Gretchen?" my father asks, poking his head into the small tent where I've been preparing.
"Oh yes, I'm so ready." I take a deep breath feeling not even a twinge of anxiety. "I'm more ready than I've ever been for anything in my life, Dad."
Bert Carver's eyes grow dewy as he sees my ensemble for the first time. "You're the most beautiful girl in the world, sweetheart."
"Thank you for not freaking out about the whole mountaintop wedding thing," I say, straightening his tie. "I know it's not exactly what you and Mom pictured."
He chuckles, shaking his head. "Nothing about your relationship with Kirk has been conventional. Why start now? Besides, your mother and I just want you to be happy. And that Scotsman makes you happier than I've ever seen you."
"He really does, Dad," I whisper, my voice quavering a touch. "Kirk is the love of my life."
Dad offers me his arm. "Then let's not keep him waiting."
We march out of the tent and into the crisp Highland air.
The view is breathtaking---rolling mountains stretching to the horizon, their peaks disappearing into wisps of clouds.
The sun breaks through in golden shafts that illuminate the landscape like God's own spotlight.
Even with the slight wind whipping my hair, I feel perfectly calm.
Our wedding party is small and intimate, exactly how we wanted it.
My former roommate, Heather, got a free trip to Scotland thanks to Thane Buchanan, and she's here today.
I won't be shocked if Heather finds a new beau during the reception.
She did tell me yesterday that she hoped to snag her own Scottish hottie.
A handful of chairs have been arranged in a semicircle at the summit, facing the most spectacular view of Scotland. Kirk's family is already seated, along with my mother who keeps dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. Tam gives me a wink and a thumbs-up when he spots us.
And then I see Kirk.
My Highland warrior stands tall at the makeshift altar with the wind tousling his hair.
He's wearing his formal kilt with all the traditional accessories, and the sight of him stuns me.
Kirk is always attractive, but today---standing confidently on the mountain that once threatened to claim his life---he looks like something from another world entirely.
A Norse deity, maybe, or a Highland warrior from ancient times.
When our eyes meet, the entire world falls away. There's only Kirk, waiting for me.
As Dad and I begin our procession along the makeshift aisle---which is just a path cleared of rocks and lined with small white flowers---I can't take my eyes off Kirk.
His smile grows with every step I take toward him.
When we reach the altar, Dad places my hand in Kirk's, and I feel the familiar calluses on his palm.
The warmth of his touch grounds me and makes this surreal moment on top of a mountain feel absolutely right.
"You are breathtaking," Kirk says as I reach him. "Like a Highland enchantress come to life."
I smile but can't speak, too enthralled by the sight of him in his formal kilt to do anything but gaze at him, enraptured.
The Balfour tartan is proudly displayed on this peak thanks to Tam and Neil.
The wind whips around us, making Kirk seem even more magnificent against the backdrop of endless mountains.
The officiant, an older man with a weathered face who's known the Balfours for generations, smiles at us both before beginning the ceremony.
I barely hear his words. I think it's something about love enduring like the ancient mountains beneath our feet.
"I cannae believe we're here," Kirk says, squeezing my hands. "On this very mountain that tried to take me away from you." His words are meant only for my ears. "It failed then, and now we claim victory here, together."
I blink back tears of joy. This man, this wonderful, brave, stubborn Scotsman who crashed into my life and changed everything, is about to become my husband.
The officiant clears his throat gently, bringing us back to the ceremony. The Highland wind plays with my dress and Kirk's kilt, as if the mountain itself is acknowledging our presence, our defiance, and our love.
"And now, the vows," the officiant announces, his voice carrying across the summit. "Kirk and Gretchen have chosen to speak their own vows. Kirk, would you like to begin?"
Kirk clasps my hand as he takes a deep breath, steadying himself emotionally, just like I am.
"Gretchen Carver," he begins, "before I met you, I thought I knew what bravery was. I've jumped from buildings, crashed cars, and fought men twice my size. But true courage, I learned from you. The courage to open my heart and bare my soul, to be vulnerable, to love without reservation."
The wind whips around us, carrying his words across the mountaintop.
"On that mountain," Kirk continues, gesturing to the vast landscape around us, "I learned what it truly means to fight for something---for someone.
I promise to fight for you every day of our lives together.
To cherish you, support your dreams, and stand beside you through whatever challenges come our way.
I swear on the ancient stones beneath our feet that my heart belongs to you, now and forever.
Mo ghaol, mo chridhe, mo bheatha---my love, my heart, and my life. "
As tears tickle down my cheeks, I'm overwhelmed by his beautiful words and his loving gaze. When the officiant turns to me, I will my voice to remain steady.
"Kirk Balfour," I begin, "you once told me Scots don't believe in coincidences. And that we were meant to find each other. Now I know you were right."
The wind whips my hair around my face, but I don't care.
All that matters is the man standing before me, his eyes filled with love so intense it steals my breath away.
"I never believed in fairy tales until I met you, Kirk.
You showed me that I'm stronger than I ever knew and braver than I ever thought possible.
This mountain tried to steal you from me, but now I know nothing could sever our bond.
I promise to love you fiercely every day.
To challenge you, support you, and stand with you through whatever life throws our way. "
I need a moment to gather myself again. This day is too profound for words.
Finally, I finish my vows. "I promise to be your adventure partner, your staunchest ally, and the woman who loves you beyond reason and with no reservations.
With you, I've found my home, not in a place, but in the man who has become my hero and my best friend.
" I blink back tears, taking a shaky breath.
"I give you my heart, my soul, and my future---freely and completely. "
The wind seems to carry my words across the mountain peaks, a promise that echoes through the Highlands in my heart.
The officiant smiles at us both before continuing with the ceremony. "The rings, please."
Tam comes forward, producing two simple gold bands from his sporran. The metal gleams in the sunlight as Kirk accepts my ring from his brother.
"With this ring," Kirk says, his voice steady and sure as he slides the band onto my finger, "I thee wed. May it be a symbol of my endless love for you, Gretchen."
I can barely breathe as I accept his ring from Tam, feeling its weight in my palm.
"With this ring," I recite, sliding the band onto Kirk's finger, "I thee wed. May it remind you every day that you are loved beyond measure, beyond reason, beyond time."
The officiant beams at us both. "By the ancient powers of the Highland hills, the whispers of your ancestors, and the authority vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife." He turns to Kirk with a knowing smile. "You may kiss your bride."
Kirk cradles my face with his hands, pulling me close.
When our lips meet, it's more than a kiss---it's a promise, a declaration, a claiming.
The world falls away as Kirk kisses me with so much passion that I swear I'm no longer standing on a mountain but floating somewhere in the clouds.
The cheers of our families fade into background noise as Kirk flings his arms around me, lifting me slightly off the ground.
His kiss deepens, becoming almost scandalous for a wedding ceremony, but so perfectly us.
When we finally relinquish each other's lips, we're both glowing the way newlyweds should.
"My wife," Kirk whispers with his lips ghosting over mine, the two words rolling off his tongue like the most sacred prayer.
"My husband," I respond, testing the word and finding it suits me more than I expected. "I like the way those words feel on my tongue and in my heart."
The Highland wind whips around us as if celebrating our union, carrying the sound of bagpipes that suddenly fill the air. I turn to see one of Kirk's cousins playing a traditional Scottish wedding melody that soars across the mountaintop. It's hauntingly beautiful.
Kirk pulls me snugly into him. "Time for the jump, lass. Are ye ready?"
"Absolutely."
I gaze up at my new husband, knowing our lives will be jam-packed with adventure and love. The breeze whips around us, making his kilt flutter and my dress dance against my legs. Behind us, our families gasp as they realize what we're about to do.
"Wait, what jump?" my mother calls out, her voice rising with alarm. "Gretchen Carver---I mean, Balfour---what are you two planning?"
But Kirk and I are already hurrying toward the edge of the cliff, hand in hand, with matching grins on our faces. This is the culmination of our love story, defying death together on the very mountain that once tried to yank him away from me.
"Do ye trust me, luaidh mo chèile?" Kirk asks.
"Always," I reply without hesitation. And I've learned enough Gaelic now that I can affirmatively state that I know what those words mean---love of my life.
My father trots up to us with concern etched across his face. "Sweetheart, I don't think---"
"It's perfectly safe, I promise!" I shout over my shoulder, though I can tell from their expressions that our families aren't convinced.
Kirk turns to me. "On three, mo chridhe?"
"Let's do it."
"One..." Kirk begins, his grip on my hand tightening.
"Two..." I continue, stepping closer to the edge where I can see the verdant Highland valley stretching out below us.
"THREE!" we shout together as we leap off the edge.
The world becomes a blur of color and sensation.
Wind roars in my ears as we plummet, but I am not afraid.
Kirk's hand remains firmly clasped in mine even as we fall down, down, down, and our parachutes deploy flawlessly.
The rush of adrenaline is intoxicating, the sensation of free-falling with my new husband beside me more exhilarating than anything I've ever experienced before this moment.
Kirk grips my hand tightly as the ground races up to meet us.
Above us, I can hear the shocked screams of our families, particularly my mother's horrified shriek.
Kirk has planned this perfectly, though, like he does with all his stunts.
I am fearless because Kirk Balfour loves me, and he would never steer me wrong.
"I LOVE YOU!" I shout against the wind, though my words are immediately snatched away.
My husband wraps his arms around me as our parachutes billow above us. The ground rushes up to meet us, but he's timed it to perfection. We land with surprising gentleness, our feet touching down on the soft Highland grass with only a slight jolt.
"Holy shit!" I gasp, breathing hard from adrenaline and elation. "We just did that! Can you believe it?"
Kirk laughs, and a look of pure joy radiates from him as he quickly works to gather the parachute. "Aye, lass. Nothing like defying death with your new bride to start a marriage right."
No matter what else might happen in our lives, we will always remember two events---how we met, and our insanely wonderful wedding.
Now, we just need some kids as crazy as we are.