Epilogue
SUNNY
I’ve never been so hot in my life.
And that’s saying something, considering I spent my last summer in Chicago in a two-hundred-year-old apartment with a broken AC.
But this? This is something else. I’m being slowly suffocated by a hundred layers of fabric and lace.
I know I’m supposed to be feeling excited, but all I feel is hot and stressed. The dress, though beautiful, feels like it was made for someone who actually has a waist, not for someone carrying two very enthusiastic babies who are currently performing synchronized kicks.
“You okay in there?” Marjorie’s voice floats through the door, and I take a deep breath.
“I’m fine,” I say, trying to sound convincing.
But I’m not fine. I’m sweltering. I’m sweaty. I’m nervous. And I can’t even tie the back of this damn dress.
“You’re glowing, girl,” Claire chimes in from somewhere outside the door. “It’s the pregnancy. Makes everyone look radiant.”
“Yeah… thanks.”
I’m not sure how much I’m glowing when I’m about to melt into a puddle of tulle and exhaustion.
I lean back against the chair, trying to catch my breath. The twins are moving again. A little too enthusiastically for my taste.
“I’m just, ugh, getting a little frustrated,” I confess. “It’s the dress, I think. I feel like I’m in a balloon.”
The door creaks open, and Marjorie’s head pops in first, followed by Claire, both of them with expressions of sympathy.
“Oh, sweetie.” Marjorie chuckles. “You look like a beautiful, glowing balloon, though.”
I shoot her a half-hearted glare. “Not funny.”
“Okay, okay, maybe not,” Claire adds, stepping fully into the room with a knowing smile. “But seriously, you’re carrying twins, Sunny. No one expects you to look like a perfect, wrinkle-free princess right now.”
That makes me feel a little better. “Yeah, well, the twins didn’t get the memo about looking perfect. They’re practicing their gymnastics routine in there.”
Marjorie laughs, walking over to me with a bottle of water in hand. “Here. Take a drink and breathe. Hydrate. You can do this.”
I gratefully take the water, the coolness instantly soothing my parched throat. “Thanks. I swear, I think I’m having more cravings right now than I did when I first found out.”
Claire raises an eyebrow. “Cravings? What kind of cravings?”
“Pickles,” I say flatly. “And chocolate. And don’t ask me how they’re going to come together in a reasonable way, but I need both.”
She and Marjorie exchange a look that’s equal parts horror and fascination. “Pickles and chocolate? That’s a bold combo.”
I laugh, my shoulders relaxing just a little. “I swear, I’m going to be the weirdest mom ever.”
“Hey, you know what? You’re going to be the coolest mom,” Claire says firmly, sitting on the edge of the bed. “And if anyone tries to judge you, I’ll fight them for you.”
“Promise?” I ask, looking at her with a grateful smile.
“I’m serious. I’m ready to throw down for my favorite pregnant lady,” she says with mock seriousness, her hand on her chest.
“Well, I do have some news that will make you feel better,” Marjorie declares, flashing her phone in my direction. “You’ll never guess what just happened!”
“What now?”
“Vincent,” she starts, her eyes wide with glee. “He’s pled guilty. To everything. Fraud, embezzlement, all of it. They’re setting the date for sentencing soon.”
My heart skips a beat as she shows me her screen, and I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. All this time, I’ve been waiting for justice to come, and now it’s finally here.
“Marjorie! That’s… wow.” I laugh in disbelief. “I honestly didn’t think this would ever happen. It’s felt like it’s been going on for ages.”
“Well, it’s happening.” She grins. “He’s going down, and we don’t have to worry about him anymore.”
A sense of closure settles over me. All the stress, all the months of uncertainty… it’s finally over.
Vincent is being held accountable for everything he tried to do to us, to the hotel, to Evie’s legacy. To everyone else, he’s hurt over the years.
“That’s a huge relief,” I murmur, leaning back in the chair again, letting the moment sink in. “I can finally breathe a little easier.”
Claire pats my hand. “Exactly. And now, you can focus on the important stuff. Like keeping those two little troublemakers inside you from turning into acrobats before their debut.”
Marjorie rolls her eyes but can’t hide the affection in her smile. “You guys are ridiculous. But you know what, I think we can make you feel less… suffocated.”
Claire jumps up and starts rummaging through the bags of beauty products I brought with me. “I’ve got an idea.”
“Are you going to try to make me look like a glam goddess while I’m over here about to burst out of this dress?” I ask, half-joking.
“Well, that’s the plan,” Marjorie says, eyes gleaming. “You’re going to look amazing. You deserve to feel beautiful today.”
I start to argue, but the tired, frustrated, slightly suffocated version of me is already fading as they work. I’m still hot, sure, but their presence is a cool balm to my nerves.
Claire pulls out a few makeup items —mostly tinted moisturizers, a little highlighter, and mascara —and gets to work.
And somehow, amidst the laughter, the teasing, and the conversation about how much Marjorie hates the word “moisturizer,” I find myself smiling.
It’s not just the makeup, though it definitely helps. It’s that I’m surrounded by the people who love me, people who get it.
People who get me.
And even though the dress is still a bit tight, and even though the twins are still kicking, auditioning for a boxing match, I suddenly feel like maybe I’ve got this.
“Okay,” Claire says, stepping back with a pleased look on her face. “Done. You look stunning, Sunny. Like, movie-star stunning.”
I blink at her, taking in the reflection in the mirror.
Holy crap.
The woman looking back at me is glowing, not from the pregnancy, not from the sweat, but from something else. Something that’s not about feeling overwhelmed or unsure, but about being seen, and loved, and ready.
I almost don’t recognize myself.
“I can’t believe this,” I breathe, a grin spreading across my face. “Thank you.”
“Now, let’s get you to your wedding,” Marjorie says, putting her hands on my shoulders. “You’re going to knock him out when he sees you.”
“Right,” I say, feeling a surge of excitement. “Let’s do this.”
By the time we reach the ceremony, I can almost pretend I’m not still slightly freaking out on the inside.
Almost.
But as I walk down the aisle, everything falls away. The heat. The tightness of the dress. The overwhelming anticipation of being seen.
There’s only Ryder. His eyes are locked on me, and I see a flicker of surprise when he takes me all in. This woman he’s marrying, with her crazy curls, her flushed cheeks, her too-tight dress, and her slightly too-big belly.
He doesn’t care about any of it. He only cares about me. The woman standing in front of him, ready to start this wild, messy, beautiful life together.
When it’s time to exchange vows, I take a deep breath, trying to focus on the moment instead of my racing heart.
“Ryder,” I begin, shaking just a little, “when I first met you, I thought you were just some grumpy, silver-fox businessman who didn’t have time for anyone.
But then I got to know you, and I saw all the layers.
The real you. And that person… well, I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m not letting you go. ”
His eyes soften, and his lips twitch upward, but he doesn’t break his gaze.
“I vow to love you through everything. Through the madness, through the moments where we’re both struggling to breathe.
I vow to be your partner, your equal, and the woman who will always stand beside you.
And I vow to give you my heart, fully and completely, because I know you’ll cherish it like no one else could. ”
Ryder takes a deep breath. “Sunny,” he says, and I can hear everything he’s feeling in just my name.
“You’ve changed my life in ways I never thought possible.
I didn’t think I had the capacity for this.
For real, true love. But with you? I would move mountains.
I would give you anything. And I promise, in this life and the next, I will love you in every way that matters. ”
The officiant smiles at us both. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Ryder, you may kiss your bride.”
And Ryder does. His kiss is everything I could ever want. Full of promise, full of love, full of everything that we’ve built together.
The crowd cheers, but I’m lost in him. In this moment. In us.
The rest of the world fades away, and all that matters is that this crazy, beautiful, chaotic ride we’re on is just beginning.
The reception was a blur of sparkles and laughter, and now, I’m here. In a gleaming, newly decorated suite at The Garland Rose, one that looks like it came straight out of a Pinterest board for “luxury romance on a budget.”
The whole place smells of roses and vanilla, and there’s a soft hum of music in the background. The space looks magical —not in the “oh, it’s too perfect” way, but in the “this is where dreams come true, so it must be real” way.
“So,” I say, lifting an eyebrow, “how do we like the decor? Does it say ‘newlywed bliss,’ or more like ‘help me, I’m about to pass out from champagne and the two-inch waist of my dress’?”
He gives me a slow grin, but I can see the humor in his eyes, the way he’s trying to hold back a laugh. “You look perfect, Sunny. Even if you did nearly kill someone on the dance floor with that dress.”
I gasp, pointing a finger at him. “That was one incident. I almost slipped on my own heels!”
He laughs, but his eyes soften. “Even if you did, I wouldn’t have minded. But I’m happy to report that you didn’t take anyone down with you.”
He gives me that look. The look that makes my heart do flip-flops.