Epilogue
Mila
“Are you sure this is what you want?” Dominic asks me for the hundredth time. We are sitting at the back of the limo, and our friends are packed into the side seats. That was another thing I told him I wanted: to ride with our friends and not take our own limo to the reception.
“Yes,” I smile, taking his hand in mine as we dodge yet another confetti bomb as it sprays right in front of us. “This is what I want.”
“Alright,” he says, shielding me from a balloon that makes its way back to us after bouncing from Lainey to Andrew and back. “Because you can just say the word and I’ll tell my guys to pack everything up and haul it over to a hotel lobby or even your studio.”
“She wants the reception at the Cockpit, Dom! Jesus!” Lainey lets out.
She is on her third drink already, and I laugh.
I can’t believe limos actually let people drink in them, but I also don’t hate it.
I am six months postpartum, and I can’t say much because I haven’t turned down a drink since Joanna was born.
“Alright, alright! Punch me for wanting to make sure my wife has the wedding of her dreams! Damn,” Dominic says, and I laugh, attempting to flatten down my dress.
I might have gone overboard with the poof, but Lainey told the woman at the bridal shop that I needed a dress to match the ring.
The ring could be the center of a solar system, so I guess a princess dress is fitting.
I look like Cinderella, but in white, and I love it.
The limousine pulls up to the back door of the Cockpit, and I wait for everyone else to get out before I try. My dress takes up half the car. It’s a bit ridiculous, but I don’t care.
“You look like a birthday cake,” Lainey giggles as she helps me straighten it out once I am standing on solid ground.
“A birthday cake or a wedding cake?” I ask, holding Dominic’s hand so I don’t fall over.
“Well, I haven’t seen your cake yet, so I’m not sure,” Lainey says.
“Oh, just you wait,” Amanda smiles. “It’s gorgeous.”
Life has been a whirlwind of new, wonderful things since Dominic proposed.
We planned the wedding while I was pregnant and even some after.
I was making Pinterest boards while Dominic dealt with the new Golden Rule deal.
Lainey and Amanda were at the house constantly, helping me cook and clean while also spoiling Jo to death.
After going back and forth and around and around about the name, we finally decided to name her after our mothers, Josephine and Anna. When we saw her face, bright and vibrant with steely blue eyes and thick, dark brown curls, we knew it was perfect.
Now that she’s six months old, I spend most of my time at the studio, finally fit enough to teach classes.
“So how has it been without Brynn?” I ask Lainey and Amanda as we walk inside. “I keep expecting her to walk over and say something snarky.”
“Listen, Niko kicking her to the curb is the best thing that’s ever happened at the Cockpit,” Lainey says.
“You just think that because you’re the lead ring girl now,” I tease her, but she just smiles and shrugs.
“Maybe, maybe not. Either way, I don’t hate it. And I don’t miss her.”
“Neither do I,” Amanda says. “I’m just glad she took Rachel with her.”
“Are you really?” I ask. “I thought they were your best friends.”
“Not really by choice,” she admits as we walk inside, making our way to the ring room for the celebration. “They were just manipulative. Things have been amazing since they left. And between you and me, I like you much better.”
We all smile and link arms. It is kind of wild having Amanda at our side.
I think I could always tell she didn’t quite fit the vibe of the other two.
If anything, she reminded me of a younger me.
So when Brynn got fired for being Rafe’s accomplice and Rachel followed on jaded principal, Amanda had a shot at turning over a new leaf.
And she did. In fact, she pretty much planted a whole new tree, metaphorically speaking.
Amanda is a really great dancer and an even better teacher.
When she came to the studio one day and recommended opening a program for underprivileged girls, my heart exploded.
Little did I know, Amanda was in the foster system when she was younger.
Our lives were very similar actually; she just lost her parents at a younger age.
But we both turned to dance, and now, girls like us have a place to go.
As we walk into the main room, I stop. “How is this the same room?” I ask gawking at the disco ball, colorful lighting, white and gold streamers, cloth-covered tables, and the killer buffet.
It boasts everything from charcuterie spreads to a seafood feast to mini desserts.
Of course, there is also a three-tiered cake.
Friends and family are already standing around, and as we walk in, they raise their glasses of champagne and cheer as the announcer calls out our names. One of the usual bartenders hands us each a glass, and we raise them along with everyone else. And honestly? I wouldn’t change any of this.
I wouldn’t change the fact that we got married at the same church my parents got married at, a tiny chapel east of here with stained glass windows and a real organ.
I wouldn’t change the fact that the reception is at the Cockpit.
For one, this is where it all began. Everyone we love is, in one way or another, linked to this place.
And the people we don’t need in our lives anymore are gone.
It’s where I found dance again and where Dominic has always come for boxing. It’s home.
After the cake is cut and speeches are made, we are called to the center of the ring for the first dance. All the lights dim except for a couple overhead, and Dom holds out a hand. I take it and he pulls me towards him.
“This is wild,” I smile up at him, my hands on his shoulders.
“Are you happy?” he asks.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I ask. “We’re married. And not for money, or to make other people happy, or blackmail, or anything else,” I say, and he chuckles. “Really, truly married.”
“We are,” he nods with a warm smile. “Would you change anything about it?”
“Hmm, let’s see,” I say, squinting my eyes.
“I’d change the day I cleaned up the whisky bottle you threw across the room.
I’d change wearing the wig the first time we had sex.
It was hot and itchy, and things might have been a lot easier if you’d known who I was back then.
I absolutely would have jumped into the ring on the night Rafe was wearing the brass knuckles and—”
“Okay, okay,” he laughs. “So it’s been a bit unorthodox.”
“A bit?” I ask, and he gives me a look. I laugh. “Okay fine. To answer your question seriously…no. I wouldn’t change anything. Not how we met. Not our crazy little ruse. And definitely not the way things turned out. I love our simple, small church wedding and pretty much free reception.”
“Yeah?” he asks. “Because we could have spent a lot more. We could have had a destination wedding in Tahiti.”
“I don’t need to go to Tahiti,” I tell him, tugging on his tie to pull his face closer to mine. “All I need is you, Dominic Wolfe.”
He smiles and our mouths close in on each other. But just as his lips brush mine, he says. “Alright. So I’ll cancel the Tahitian honeymoon.”
I pull back, my jaw unhinged.
“We’re going to Tahiti for our honeymoon?” I ask.
Dom smiles. “Yeah. Our flight leaves first thing in the morning. Unless you don’t want–”
“Oh, my god!” I squeal, and he laughs, pulling me closer.
“I know you don’t care about my money, Mila. You never have. But it doesn’t mean I can’t spoil you a little,” he says in a low, gravelly tone that is enough to make my nerves tingle.
“No, it doesn’t,” I whisper back, and our lips make contact, sending the room into a frenzy and my heart to the moon.