Exclusive Bonus Chapter
Greyson
Two Years Later
“Can you pour me another whiskey over ice?” I asked Landon as he stood in front of me and fixed my bowtie.
My nerves were shot, and it would’ve been the fourth whiskey on the rocks within the past hour.
Even though I knew I was about to partake in one of the greatest moments of my life, that didn’t change the fact that I was a nervous wreck.
“Sorry, buddy. We have a strict three-whiskey limit.” Landon patted me on the shoulder with a wide smirk. “As your best man, it is my duty to make sure you don’t slur your way through your vows.”
Vows.
I was about to deliver my vows.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t start writing my vows over two years ago when Eleanor said yes to the proposal, yes to me and my girls.
I’d probably gone through a million different drafts of said vows, and I’d probably overthought them a billion times, but I knew the final landing point was the right placement.
I knew this for a fact because when Karla asked me to read them to her and Lorelai, both girls started to cry.
I got teary-eyed, too, thinking about how much they adored Eleanor.
The past few years weren’t easy. We’d still had our struggles, and getting Karla to a place where she felt comfortable with her mental health took a lot of time.
She’d spent a year at a wellness clinic working on herself, and I’d spent a year on my knees as a praying man hoping that whoever was looking over the universe would take care of my daughter.
I went to the clinic each morning to check in on her. Eleanor went every single night.
The day Karla came home from the clinic, she told me she wanted to keep trying at life because she felt as if there was some kind of happiness waiting for her around the corner.
Those were the happiest words I’d ever heard in my life. Nothing about her journey had been easy. She still struggled physically, mentally, and emotionally, but she kept showing up each day trying. I learned that trying was the best thing we could do in life.
Each day since that terrifying time over two years ago, that was my main life goal—to try. I wanted to be a better father and a better partner.
My three girls made that easy.
Today was just a new start to my already happily ever after.
Over the past few decades, I’d learned about life in ways I’d never thought I would.
I learned about love and grief and how they can exist within the same space.
I learned that the two went hand in hand most of the time.
Without love, grief did not exist. Grief was a feeling that existed as a sign that love once existed.
In a way, that was a beautiful concept to me.
That even with loss, love could still murmur in the wind.
And I also learned that love didn’t have an end point.
There were many ways to fall in love day in and day out, and somehow our hearts would always make space for more love.
I was grateful for that and how Eleanor came into my life and helped me realize that truth when I truly felt as if all I had left was darkness.
She was the shining light that brought me back to life, brought me back to my girls, and I knew I’d be forever grateful for her love.
Love came at a person quickly at times, but at other times, it crept in slowly. Eleanor Gable was the whisper of love that my heart needed to heal. She not only healed me, but she did it so patiently. So calmly. So effortlessly.
I loved her.
Not because of what she did for me and my family, though.
No. I loved her because of who she was. I loved her comforting personality, her love of cardigans, her vibrant joy when she talked about a book she loved.
I loved her for her heart and how it beat for others.
I loved how she sang in the shower and hummed during car rides.
I loved how her nose scrunched up when she fell into deep thought and how she always had to talk to every dog that crossed her path.
I loved how she called each dog a puppy, too, regardless of their age.
I loved how she loved my girls.
I loved how they loved her back.
I loved her eyes.
Her smile.
Her laughter.
Her.
I loved her fully, completely, and wholly.
When I stood in front of her that afternoon and in front of all our family and friends, I knew without a doubt, it would be one of the greatest days of my life.
“Ten-minute warning!” the wedding coordinator said as she tapped on our door. She grinned my way and nodded once. “Greyson, wait until you see that bride of yours.” She then headed off, leaving me with a wave of peace.
My bride was waiting.
Landon was right—I didn’t need any more whiskey.
I was ready for her, ready for us, and ready for “I do.”
“You good?” Landon asked.
I nodded. “I’m good.”
There was another knock at the door, and I looked up to see Karla and Lorelai standing there in their bridesmaids’ dresses. They looked beautiful, but that wasn’t shocking. My ladies always looked beautiful.
“Dad, we just wanted to see you before, you know,” Karla shyly shrugged, “everything.”
Landon smiled at me before patting my shoulder one last time. “I’ll give you three a minute alone.” He walked in the direction of the girls and kissed each of their foreheads before walking out of the room. He closed the door behind him.
I smiled at the girls and then held my arms out toward them.
They walked over and allowed me to pull them into a hug.
I held them tight, because I needed their grip.
I held them tight because I swore I’d hold them just as tightly as I could after almost losing Karla.
For the rest of my life, I’d hug my daughters as if they were the greatest gift I’d ever received, because they were.
I kissed the sides of both of their heads. “You look beautiful, girls.”
Lorelai twirled in her dress, grinning ear to ear.
“I know!” she exclaimed with the same confidence she’d had her whole life.
“I saw Eric, and he said I was beautiful too.” Lorelai and this new seven-year-old “boyfriend” of hers was going to be the end of me.
Since when did seven-year-olds have boyfriends?
The other day, I forbade her to date until she was fifty, and she replied, “Don’t worry.
I’ll only date him when you’re not around, Dad.
” As if that gave me any kind of comfort.
She’d been boy crazy for the past year or so, and I was not ready for that.
I swore she was seven going on seventeen.
Karla had never been boy crazy. The closest thing she had to a boyfriend was a kid named Ashton from the wellness clinic she attended.
She didn’t mention him a lot, and his family moved shortly after his stay at the clinic, but he was just that—a boy who was a friend. Nothing more, nothing less.
There was no denying how different my two daughters were. I had no doubt that Lorelai’s teen years would keep my hands full.
“I’m not used to dresses,” Karla flatly stated as she tugged on the fabric of the lavender gown. Her dark-black hair that always used to hang in front of her face for quite a few years was now pulled up into a tight bun. I loved it like that, it made it easier for me to see her beautiful face.
“It looks great on you,” I commented. “You look remarkable. Just like your mother.”
She frowned slightly. We were still working on her confidence, but we were moving in the right direction. “Even with the scars?” she quietly asked.
“When I see you . . .” I placed my hands against her cheeks and kissed every scar that rested against her face.
“I see her.” That was true in every way possible.
Both girls looked just like their mother, which made it as if Nicole had somehow managed to cheat death.
She lived on within their eyes, their smiles, and their spirits.
Karla smiled. “I love you, Dad.”
“Love you always,” I replied.
“I don’t hate the dress,” she mentioned. “Even though it isn’t black.”
I laughed. “We all know how you love your black outfits.”
“I think I’m going to slowly start to add a little more color, like Lorelai.”
“I love color!” Lorelai exclaimed as she went back to spinning. “Eric likes me in every color!”
Oh, hell.
I was screwed.
As my seven-year-old kept spinning in circles, it felt as if time slowed down as I locked eyes with Karla.
My chest tightened for a second. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t worry about my beautiful teenage girl.
My heart skipped a few beats as I stared her way.
Sometimes, even with my love for Eleanor, I worried that we were moving too fast with the marriage.
After everything Karla had been through, I worried that it was too much.
That it might damage her healing process. That it might be too . . . soon.
I cleared my throat and fiddled with my cuff links. “Karla, are you sure—”
“Yes, Dad,” she said, cutting me off. She smiled. Her real smile. The smile she used to always give me each night when I’d tuck her into bed as a kid. “She’s family now,” she stated, speaking of Eleanor. “So yes. I’m sure of this.”
I kissed her cheek and thanked her again.
“For what?” she asked.
“Your existence.”