Epilogue
Audrey Tripp
I push open the door to the gym and smile as happy memories wash over me. I hope this place never changes.
The bell over the door rings. Mr. Carter steps halfway out of his office, grunts in hello, then disappears back into the room.
I knock on his doorframe. He looks up.
“‘Bout time you came back,” he grumbles.
“It really is. I missed you, the girls, and this place. You know I always come here when I need to feel safe, yeah?”
A rare smile lifts his lips.
“It seems like you found another safe place. How’s that boy treating you?”
“Amazing. On that topic, I have something to give you,” I say.
After unzipping my gym duffel, I pull out the stack of envelopes, find the one with his name on it, and pass it to him.
“Please come to our wedding,” I say.
He grunts and nods.
“This ain’t the first invite I’ve gotten recently. Go see Brook. She’s worried.”
Alarm thrums through me. I rush down the hall and drop my duffel on the floor beside the wall and hurry to the group of women in the back corner.
Hilary Winthrop, a beautiful brunette with enviably long legs, notices me over Penelope’s head—our shortest attendee—and exclaims, “Audrey’s back!”
As they all drop their arms and turn to greet me, I tuck the envelopes behind my back and say hello.
“I’m so glad you’re okay. Where’ve you been? What happened?” Brook asks.
I shift and remind myself not to crumple the fancy invitations in my fist.
“What are you hiding behind your back?” she demands.
I sigh and move the stack of envelopes in front of me.
“I’m getting married, and I’d like you all as my bridesmaids.”
After a tense moment, the group exclaims in excitement and rushes to accept.
Brook nudges me with her elbow.
“You haven’t responded to anything I sent you for weeks, and this is how you say hi? I tried to send out a search party, but Liam stopped me,” she grumbles.
“You didn’t ask him why I was unavailable?” I say, totally tongue in cheek.
She tsks and rolls her eyes as she speaks.
“As if that tight-lipped man would let anything slip. Which reminds me… he kept a secret for me, too.”
Uncertainty roars through me. I can’t tell by her expression what it might be.
“What kind of secret?” I ask.
“Will you help my mom plan my baby shower?”
My brain screeches to a halt. I blink, uncertain whether I heard her correctly or imagined the entire exchange in my head.
“You’re pregnant?!”
She gives a sheepish nod.
“Oh my god, congratulations! I’d be honored!”
We squeal and hug and welcome the rest of the class in on the celebration.
With forgiveness from my friends for ghosting them for so long and my heart full of excitement from my best friend’s news, I jump into the self-defense class that’s taught me so much and helped me conquer so many fears.
Without the safety of this gym, I would’ve never survived long enough to reunite with Brennan. He would’ve never gotten the chance to eradicate my nightmares.
I can never repay Mr. Carter, Brook, and this group of women.
But I can include everyone in my bridal party.
***
I pace back and forth along the floor-to-ceiling windows. Still in my business suit from a busy day at the office, I delay changing into the casual dress hanging in the restroom.
I haven’t had the nervous sweats in years, but I’ve overthought the next few hours to exhaustion. The last thing I want to do is sweat through my clothes before the guests even arrive.
Brook calls a greeting from the hallway. I jump and squeak before pressing my palm to my sternum.
“Why are you still in work clothes?” she accuses.
I eye her attire and quirk a brow.
“To change with you, duh,” I joke.
She returns my raised brow and answers with an unconvinced, “Yeah, sure.”
With my best friend by my side, I change into the dress I chose to wear to our first wedding rehearsal.
All my nervousness melts away when Brennan greets me in the hall. We join Brook, Matteo, Carlos, and Liam in the dining room.
As the rest of the bridal party arrives, I ignore the first hints of a tension headache, but after a while, the crowd in the dining room is too much, so I wait until Brennan is in deep discussion with Mr. Sterling and step into the hall.
I lean against the wall, close my eyes, and drop my head back, hoping a few minutes of quiet will ease my headache. When the pain remains, I decide a glass of water is overdue, so I open my eyes and stand.
Penelope slips out of the side door, spots me, and joins me with uncertainty in every step.
“Can I talk to you?” she asks.
“Of course. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I just…”
She’s a terrible liar. The fear and worry in her eyes as she glances back toward the dining room heightens my awareness.
Heat prickles the back of my neck, and a band tightens around my skull.
“I don’t think I can be your bridesmaid,” she blurts and cringes.
“What? Why?”
Nausea rolls up from my toes, but I breathe through my nose and wait for it to pass.
She glances back toward the dining room and stiffens.
My stomach clenches as I turn. With barely a glimpse of the broadest shoulders I’ve ever seen—Mr. Sterling must be the one standing in the dining room doorway—I launch myself into the bathroom and make it to the toilet in the nick of time.
After I finish puking my guts out, I wipe my mouth with toilet paper and flush the toilet. Brook calls my name. I sigh and exit the stall on wobbly legs.
Brook stands by the sinks facing the walls. With concern in her eyes and her purse in her hands, she studies my face as she speaks.
“Penelope told me you weren’t feeling well. She also apologized and said to forget what she said.”
I nod, shuffle to the sink, wash my hands, and swish and spit, but the taste of vomit lingers in my mouth.
Brook offers me a piece of candy on her palm. I quirk a brow. I’ve never seen the brand before.
“It’s a ginger hard candy. Great for nausea. Funny enough, I had none in the beginning, but all these random little ailments keep popping up and disappearing every so often, so I’m always prepared now. I’ve even passed out a few times. The first trimester is so weird.”
“I’m not pregnant,” I say on reflex.
“Are you sure?” she asks.
The lack of judgement in her tone decimates my immediate denial.
Brennan and I have never used protection.
I had all the symptoms of my period three weeks ago but only light spotting.
That puts my last actual period the day after my apartment caught fire—which the investigators ruled as arson and confirmed Ms. Baker as the culprit—seven weeks ago.
My first time with Brennan was a week later at the charity ball.
We’ve been at it like rabbits ever since.
“Maybe? I don’t know,” I admit.
“Do you want me to get Brenn—”
“Audrey, where are you?” Brennan demands as he barges into the women’s restroom without knocking.
I scowl and hiss his name.
He continues deeper into the bathroom and grabs my shoulders without an ounce of remorse in his big body.
“I heard you were sick. What’s wrong?”
I shrug and say, “I don’t know. Maybe nothing.”
“What does that mean?” he demands.
“Throwing up might be a completely normal thing for me to do for a little while,” I say with another lame shrug.
He squints in confusion before understanding widens his eyes.
“You mean… you think you’re pregnant?”
“Maybe? A test would know better than me,” I admit.
After studying my face for a moment, he scoops me into a cradle hold and starts toward the door.
“Sorry, Mrs. Ricco, we’ll have to inconvenience you. Tell everyone we’ll see them at rehearsal tomorrow,” he calls over his shoulder as he carries me into the hall.
My stomach roils. I pop the candy into my mouth. When the unexpectedly sharp flavor hits my tongue, the urge to upchuck recedes. The tension headache and prickly nape return, but my emotional turmoil holds the worst at bay.
“Brennan,” I whisper as he sets me in the passenger seat of his car.
“Yes, Audrey?” he responds.
I grab his collar and flatten a hand against his cheek.
“Do you want a baby?”
He mentioned having daughters before, but maybe he was just addled after the fire.
“Baby doll, I want everything with you. Children, pets, adventures; everything we never got from our parents. I want a full, happy, and messy life with you.”
“I want that, too,” I manage through my thick throat.
I pull him down and kiss him with the force of my love for him. I don’t deserve him, but I’m never letting him go.
It isn’t until hours later, with the test results read and the initial wave of emotions settled, that I recall Penelope’s anxiety.
I don’t know what made her so pensive, but I vow to find out tomorrow during rehearsal.
In the meantime, I bask in my fiancé’s affection, delight in my monster’s praise, and revel in my lover’s worship.
Brennan is mine. My overbearing boss. My generous lover. The father of all my future children and my soon-to-be husband.
He’s my home and my family.
Forever.