Epilogue
MANDY
Ipractically bounced in the back of the car, unable to contain my excitement.
A spa day. An actual, honest-to-God spa day with Elizabeth and Bernadette.
When Elizabeth had texted the group chat three days ago suggesting we all needed some pampering, I’d nearly cried with relief.
The past few weeks had been a whirlwind of unpacking, setting up my new office, and diving headfirst into wedding season in New York.
I loved every second of it, but I was exhausted.
“Someone’s excited,” Bernadette said from beside me, smiling at my obvious enthusiasm.
“Are you kidding? I haven’t had a spa day in months. Maybe years. I can’t even remember the last time I did something like this.”
Elizabeth laughed from the front seat. “Same. Bucky is amazing, but I desperately needed to remember what it feels like to be a person instead of just a milk machine.”
“Mimi is watching him?” I asked.
“Yes, and she was thrilled about it. Practically pushed me out the door.” Elizabeth turned to look at us. “She said, and I quote, ‘Go be young and pretty. The baby will be fine.’”
“Mimi knows what’s up,” Bernadette said. “Self-care isn’t selfish.”
The spa was incredible. Very LA. It was a different world from the city street we walked in from.
It was like an oasis. You would never think the busy city was just outside the doors.
Soft lighting, the scent of eucalyptus and lavender and the sound of the ocean being pumped through speakers.
Not loud. Just there. It made me a little homesick. Just a little.
We were led to a private suite where we changed into plush robes and slippers. I caught sight of myself in the mirror and had to laugh. This was so far removed from my usual life of running around in heels and putting out wedding fires that it felt almost surreal.
“Okay, so we’re doing facials first,” Elizabeth said, consulting the itinerary someone had printed out. “Then massages, then we’re getting our hair done.”
“This is incredible,” I said. “Thank you for inviting me.”
“Of course we invited you,” Bernadette said, looking at me like I’d said something ridiculous. “You’re family now. We’re sisters.”
Family. The word still gave me a little thrill every time someone said it. I’d gone from having basically no family to being part of this huge, overwhelming, wonderful Blackwell clan. It was still taking some getting used to.
The facialist came in and got to work on my face, and I let myself relax completely. This was heaven. Absolute heaven.
“So,” Elizabeth said from the chair next to mine, her voice slightly muffled by whatever mask was being applied to her face. “How are you settling in? Really?”
“It’s been good,” I said honestly. “Better than good. Briggs has been amazing. The closet he had made for me? I still can’t get over it.”
“He showed us pictures,” Bernadette said. “It’s gorgeous. Sebastian got all kinds of ideas from it. We’re looking for a new apartment and closet space is at the top of the list of must-haves.”
“Where are you guys looking?” I asked.
“Tribeca, maybe. Or the Upper West Side. Somewhere with good schools for when we eventually have kids.” She paused. “Which is terrifying to think about, but also kind of exciting?”
“It’s definitely exciting,” Elizabeth said. “And terrifying. Mostly terrifying at three in the morning when the baby won’t stop crying and you’re so tired you can barely remember your own name.”
“But you love it,” I said.
“I do. God help me, I really do.” I heard the smile in her voice. “Even the hard parts are worth it.”
We fell into comfortable silence as the facials continued. This was nice. Cleo and I used to do spa days, but then we both got so busy it was impossible to get more than a couple of hours off. I worked weekends and she worked during the week.
After the facials, we moved to the massage room. I nearly fell asleep on the table, the combination of skilled hands and lavender oil working magic on my perpetually tense shoulders.
“I could do this every day,” I mumbled into the face cradle.
“Right?” Elizabeth’s voice came from somewhere to my left. “This is the most relaxed I’ve been in weeks.”
By the time we finished with massages and moved on to getting our nails done, I felt like a completely different person. Loose and relaxed in a way I hadn’t been since Vegas, probably. Though that had been tequila-induced relaxation, which didn’t really count.
We got manis and pedis. I went with a deep purple color that made me feel like a royal.
“Hair time,” Elizabeth said.
We moved to the salon section of the spa. I was pretty sure I saw an A-lister sitting in the chair. I had to remember I was sitting with Blackwell women. They were famous in their own right. And then I remembered I was a Blackwell woman. Even I was still trying to get my head around that idea.
The hairstylist worked on my hair, blow-drying and curling until I had these perfect, bouncy waves that looked effortlessly chic.
I watched in the mirror as Elizabeth and Bernadette got similar treatments, all of us transforming from tired, stressed women into polished, glamorous versions of ourselves.
“We look good,” Bernadette said, admiring her reflection.
“We look amazing,” I corrected. “Like we’re about to conquer the world or walk a red carpet. I feel all dressed up with nowhere to go.”
“Actually, we aren’t done yet. We are going somewhere fancy for dinner.”
“Yeah?”
My first thought was I should text Briggs and let him know. I didn’t want to stand him up if he was making dinner for us.
“Yep, I made reservations,” Elizabeth said. “Don’t worry, Briggs knows you’ll be out late.”
I looked between her and Bernadette. I felt like there was something more, but they weren’t saying anything.
We piled into the hired car. The driver seemed to know exactly where he was going without anyone giving him an address.
“Seriously, what’s happening?” I asked.
“You’ll see,” was all Elizabeth would say.
We pulled up in front of a restaurant I recognized. It was one of those places that required reservations months in advance and had a Michelin star. Or maybe three. I’d looked into it once for a client’s rehearsal dinner and nearly choked on the prices.
“This is fancy,” I said.
“Only the best,” Bernadette said, linking her arm through mine. “Come on.”
Inside, we were led through the main dining room, all white tablecloths and soft lighting. We were led back to a private room. My heart started beating faster. Something was definitely happening.
The door opened, and I saw them all. Adrian, Sebastian, Dash, and Callum. Cleo. Mimi was there.
And Briggs.
He stood in the center of the room looking nervous in a way I’d never seen him look nervous before. He was holding something out. A small box.
A turquoise ring box that every woman knew was Tiffany’s.
“Oh my God,” I breathed.
He smiled. “Hi.”
“Hi.” I looked around the room with all these people I’d come to love, then back at him. “What’s happening?”
“Can you come here?” he asked.
I walked toward him on shaky legs. I crossed the space between us until I was standing right in front of him.
“So,” he said, and I could hear the nerves in his voice. “I know this is going to sound ridiculous.”
“Okay.”
“We’re already married.”
“We are,” I agreed, confused.
“But we got married drunk in Vegas. Neither of us remember it. And while I don’t regret a single second of what happened that night—because it brought us together—I do regret that I don’t remember asking you to be my wife.”
My throat tightened. I knew what was coming, but I couldn’t believe it.
“I don’t remember you saying yes. I don’t remember putting a ring on your finger. I don’t remember promising to love you for the rest of my life, even though I meant every word of those vows I apparently said.” He took a breath. “So I want to do it again. The right way. The way you deserve.”
He dropped to one knee. I pressed my hand over my mouth, tears already streaming down my face.
“Mandy Carter-Blackwell,” he said, opening the ring box to reveal the most stunning diamond I’d ever seen.
It caught the light and threw rainbows across his face.
There were pretty blue sapphires around the diamond.
It was unique and gorgeous. “I love you. You’ve made me happier than I ever thought possible.
You’ve given me a life I didn’t even know I wanted.
And I know we’re already married, but I’m asking anyway. ”
He looked up at me with those blue eyes that had captivated me from the first moment I saw them, even when I wanted to strangle him.
“Will you marry me?” he asked. “Again?”
I laughed through my tears, nodding before I could even get the words out. “Yes. Yes, of course I’ll marry you again.”
He stood up and slipped the ring onto my finger. It fit perfectly, sitting just above the simple band from Vegas that I’d never taken off. The contrast was almost funny—the pawn shop ring and the Tiffany diamond, side by side. Past and present. Drunk and sober. Accidental and intentional.
I looked up at him, this man who’d somehow become my entire world in such a short time.
“I love you,” I said.
“I love you too.”
Then he was kissing me, and everyone was cheering. I was crying and laughing at the same time. When we finally broke apart, I was immediately swarmed by Elizabeth and Bernadette, both of them squealing and grabbing my hand to look at the ring.
“It’s gorgeous,” Elizabeth said.
“Briggs has good taste,” Bernadette added. “For a lawyer.”
“Hey,” Briggs protested, but he was grinning too.
Mimi came over and pulled me into a hug. “Welcome to the family, sweetheart. Officially. Again.”
“Thank you.”
“My son is lucky to have you.”
“I’m pretty lucky to have him too. All of you.”
Adrian clapped Briggs on the back. “Took you long enough.”
“The spa day was a setup,” I realized, looking at Elizabeth and Bernadette. “You two were in on this the whole time.”
“Obviously,” Bernadette said. “We had to get you looking fabulous for your second proposal.”
“First real proposal,” Elizabeth corrected.
“Right, first real proposal.”
Dinner was incredible, with course after course of mouthwatering food. I kept looking at the ring on my finger, still not quite believing this was real.
Briggs kept his hand on my knee under the table, his thumb rubbing small circles that grounded me. This was real. This was my life now.
“Speech!” Dash called out as dessert was being served. “Briggs, you have to make a speech.”
“I already made a speech,” he said. “Any additional speeches will be made at home. To my wife and my wife alone.”
“Chicken,” Dash joked.
“Says the guy that doesn’t have a girlfriend,” Briggs retorted.
Dash groaned. “Not that again.”
I loved listening to them tease each other. Their love for one another was so obvious. Respect and loyalty. They would always have one another’s backs. And now, mine.
It seemed the next wedding I needed to plan was my own.
***