Epilogue
VIVI
Five minutes until I marry the man I love.
The bridal suite is bathed in gold from the afternoon sun streaming through wide-open French doors.
A breeze carries the scent of peonies, garden roses, and lilac—the bouquet I chose, in my colors, with my florist. Outside, laughter drifts in from the lawn where guests sip champagne under white parasols.
This isn’t Genevieve Holiday’s ballroom in February. It’s a sunlit villa in July. My day. My way.
The mirror reflects a woman in a sleek, form-fitting gown with a low back and a sweep of silk that hugs every curve. The kind of dress I always pictured, without layers of tulle to hide behind. My hair is loose, the way Trey likes it, and my veil is delicate lace that catches the light.
When I lift my hand, the diamond on my finger glitters, sending a shiver up my spine. Not a “disco ball of bad decisions.” This ring makes me feel alive every time I see it. Chosen by him. Worn for him.
“Much better,” my mom says from the doorway, her dark eyes warm as they roam over me. “You look like you.” Then, with a teasing smile, “I know I said there’s always a wedding number two, but I didn’t think you’d take me up on it so soon.”
I laugh, my chest light. “Well, you were right. Again.”
Behind her, Isla and Yvanne bustle in, both in soft champagne-colored dresses.
Isla’s cheeks are flushed from herding people, and Yvanne’s hair is pinned in a sleek twist that screams competence even at a wedding.
Adeline trails behind them in a dress that matches theirs, her bouquet of baby’s breath clutched in both hands.
She beams at me like she’s keeping the world’s best secret.
When they leave to join the procession, I turn to my mom. “I want to see Trey.”
Her brow lifts. “You know it’s bad luck.”
“I think we’ve had enough bad luck to last a lifetime.”
She chuckles and disappears, returning moments later with him—though his palms are slapped dramatically over his eyes. “I can’t look. I’ve got a superstition to uphold.”
My heart hammers. “Trey Hartley, get over here.”
He takes two steps, still covering his face. “You’re not getting cold feet, are you? Because if you are, just tell me. I’ll be the guy in the running SUV waiting in the parking lot. Your getaway driver for life.”
I cross the room, hook my fingers around his wrists, and tug his hands down.
His jaw goes slack. His throat works around a swallow like he’s forcing back tears. “Vivi… you look…” The words fail him.
“I just wanted to see you before we say I do.”
“I’m glad you did.” He steps closer, voice low. “Anything you want today, it’s yours.”
I take a breath. “Can I have John’s tags? I’d like to honor him today. After all, he’s the reason you’re here with me.”
He nods, pulls the chain from beneath his tux, and hands it to me. I wrap it carefully around the silk-bound stems of my bouquet, just like I told my florist I would. I planned it all along, but I wanted to ask him in this moment.
“There,” I say, looking up at him. “Now we’re ready to get married.”
“I love you, Vivi Ann Newport.”
“I love you too.”
The music swells outside, the signal it’s time. My father’s arm is warm and steady as I loop mine through his. He grins down at me, pride radiating from every line on his face.
As we step onto the sunlit aisle, the world narrows to one man waiting at the end. Trey’s broad shoulders square when he sees me, but it’s his eyes—shining with unshed tears—that hit me like the first time I realized I loved him.
Every step forward feels like a piece of the past falling away. No running. No doubts. Just the sun on my skin, the bouquet in my hand, and the man who makes our house a home waiting for me.
This is the healing all of us needed.
And this time, I’m walking straight into forever.