Epilogue #3
We sway slowly, his hands relaxed at my waist, my cheek against his shoulder, homing in on his heartbeat against mine.
“I meant every word,” he murmurs.
“I know,” I say and look back up at him. He kisses me softly. The clapping and cheering around us makes us laugh.
And when I glance over, Landon’s watching us from my mom’s arms, eyes busy, binky in his mouth.
And for the first time all day, it really hits me.
We did it.
We’re married. We’re a family. Even In the middle of all this noise and the laughter and the music, everything feels exactly right.
* * *
The dance floor is where I spend most of the night.
All of us out there together, the whole bridal party, sweat and laughter and sore feet.
Brad clearly tipped the DJ, because nearly every song that comes on feels like it was pulled straight from his soul.
When John Mellencamp starts playing, I don’t even have to look at him to know.
Brad and Macy end up paired together for most of the night.
The only two without dates, technically, though it never feels awkward between them.
They’ve always been the default duo, the leftover pair, just like Mitch and I used to be before everything shifted.
When siblings are involved, the options tend to run out fast. They move together easily, laughing, comfortable, like it’s nothing new.
Luke and Maddie are wrapped up in each other like the rest of us don’t exist. He can’t stop looking at her, like he’s afraid she might disappear if he blinks.
She’s glowing tonight, confident, soft in a way I haven’t seen in a while.
Watching them, I almost believe they’ve finally crossed that line, grown past the petty fights and sharp edges.
I wouldn’t be surprised if the next wedding we attend is theirs.
Tanner and Josie sway a little off rhythm, struggling to slow dance with her belly rounding everything out, keeping him just far enough away to frustrate them both. She’s due next month, more than ready for their daughter’s arrival. Tanner keeps adjusting his grip, keeping her as close as possible.
Mitch snags Landon for a few songs, and just like that, the dance floor belongs to him. Everyone wants a turn, and Landon loves every second of it.
* * *
It’s eleven p.m. when Mitch pulls into a parking spot at the hotel. We’ll drive the rest of the way to the resort tomorrow.
The car ride here was peaceful, perfect. Just us reminiscing about the day, laughing, teasing. Needed.
We didn’t really talk about Landon, but knowing he’s back at the house with my mom for the next few nights isn’t unsettling. It’s just…weird. Because it’s the first time since he was born I feel like I can clock out. It’s strange, and freeing, and a little overwhelming, all at once.
Inside, the lobby smells like cleaner and coffee. The woman at the desk congratulates us and slides the key cards across the counter with a smile that says she knew we were coming.
“Checkout’s at eleven,” she says.
Mitch squeezes my hand. “Perfect.”
The room is simple. White sheets. Soft lighting. A little sitting area by the window. Nothing fancy, but it feels like ours the second the door shuts behind us.
I take a lap before I sink onto the edge of the bed, finally letting the weight of the day settle into my bones. Mitch loosens his tie and unbuttons his jacket, all while watching me. He looks good. Really good.
“You okay?” he asks.
I laugh. “I will be. My mind is playing catch-up, I think.”
He comes to me slowly, kneeling in front of me while reaching for my feet.
“Surprised you lasted all night in these,” he jokes, pulling the first boot off.
“I know. Me too.”
He removes the other and then stands, leaning in to kiss me. My hands hold his cheeks, and I’m quick to deepen the kiss. He pulls back then, grinning, pressing his forehead to mine.
“We got married,” he whispers with a small laugh.
“Yeah.” I laugh. “We did.”
I’m still sitting on the edge of the bed, the fabric of my dress heavy on my legs. Mitch’s thumb brushes a slow circle against my cheek, like he’s memorizing me.
“Please tell me you know how beautiful you look.”
I smile and shrug playfully. “I tried.”
He laughs more than I thought he would and kisses me again. I reach for him now, fingers curling into the front of his shirt, and gently tug him down over me. He follows without hesitation. My back meets the mattress, the bed dipping beneath us.
The kiss grows hungrier. Charged in such a familiar way.
He braces his arms beside my head, hovering. His forehead rests against mine again, his voice low and quiet.
“You know,” he murmurs, “this time’s gonna be different than—”
I nod. “I know.” My hands slide up his chest, over his shoulders.
The kiss that follows is slow and consuming, all heat. We kiss like we have nowhere else to be, because this moment has been waiting for us for way too long to rush.
There’s no nerves. No second-guessing. Just the safety of him, the warmth, the certainty. And we let the heat of the moment take over without guilt this time.
The end.