Epilogue
Worth the Wait
Damien
Three years later
There are moments in life when time seems to slow down. Not because anything dramatic is happening. Not because the world suddenly stops turning. But because your brain realizes that the moment unfolding in front of you is one you’re going to remember forever.
Right now is one of those moments.
I’m standing at the front of a small white chapel on the edge of Franklinton with my hands clasped in front of me, trying very hard not to look like I’m about to pass out.
“You look like you’re about to pass out,” Laine murmurs beside me.
I don’t look at him. “I’m fine.”
“You’re pale.”
“It’s the lighting.”
“It’s not the lighting.”
Across the aisle Alistair snorts quietly. “Relax,” he says. “You already got the girl.”
“That’s not the point.”
“That’s literally the point,” Skye whispers from the front row.
Everyone laughs softly which only makes my nerves worse.
The chapel is filled with people. Friends. Family. Half the town of Franklinton. The crew from House of Ink. My brothers. Her friends. Even Adam from the bar is sitting near the back looking suspiciously emotional.
And at the center of it all is the long aisle leading to the chapel doors. The doors Quinn is going to walk through any second now.
I exhale slowly. Three years.
Three years ago, I was standing in a gravel driveway outside a party watching the girl I liked cry after catching her boyfriend cheating.
Three years ago, I told her I’d been waiting.
And today ... today I’m about to marry her.
“Still breathing?” Laine asks.
“Barely.”
“You’ll survive.”
“I hope so.”
The music starts softly. A quiet piano melody drifting through the chapel and suddenly every conversation fades into silence. The doors at the back of the chapel open and for a second no one moves.
Then Quinn steps inside and the world stops. She’s wearing a simple white dress that moves softly as she walks. Not overly fancy. Not dramatic. Just beautiful. Just Quinn.
Her blonde hair falls in loose waves over her shoulders. And her smile...
God. That smile is the same one that lit up the tattoo shop the first time she walked in with cupcakes. The same one that made me fall for her long before I admitted it to myself and keeps me falling for her every day.
Except today it’s brighter, happier, and it’s directed straight at me.
My chest tightens. Three years. Three years of late-night diners, picnics by the lake, and movie nights on the couch. Arguments about pineapple on pizza, her baking experiments, and my terrible attempts at helping.
Three years of watching her slowly realize she never had to change who she was for someone else.
And now she’s walking toward me.
Laine nudges my arm. “Breathe,” he whispers.
Right. Breathing. I forgot about that.
Quinn walks down the aisle slowly, her eyes never leaving mine. Her father walks beside her looking both proud and slightly emotional. The chapel is completely silent except for the music and the soft sound of her steps.
Every memory flashes through my mind all at once. The grocery store. The picnic. Our first kiss on the dock. The first time she held my hand in the shop. The moment I realized I wasn’t just waiting anymore and suddenly I understand something very clearly. Every second of waiting was worth it.
She reaches the front of the aisle and her father squeezes her hand before placing it in mine.
“Take care of her,” he says quietly.
“I will,” I promise.
Then he steps back and takes his seat.
For a moment Quinn and I just stand there looking at each other. “You look nervous,” she whispers.
“You look stunning.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
“I forgot the question.”
She laughs softly, and the sound instantly relaxes something inside my chest.
“Still the observant one,” she says.
“Still the girl who makes everything better.” The officiant clears his throat politely and we both turn forward.
The ceremony begins, and I hear every word. Love. Commitment. Partnership. But most of my attention stays on Quinn. The way her fingers curl around mine, the warmth of her hand, and the quiet excitement in her eyes. And when it’s finally my turn to speak, the room fades away completely.
“Quinn,” I say. My voice is steady even though my heart is racing. “I spent a long time thinking patience meant standing still.” She tilts her head slightly. “But loving you taught me something different.”
“What’s that?” she whispers.
“That waiting doesn’t mean doing nothing.
It means believing something wonderful is worth the time it takes to find.
” Her eyes soften. “I watched you light up every room you walked into. I watched you bring cupcakes to people just because it made them smile. And I realized something very important.”
“What?”
“You were already everything I’d been hoping for.”
A tear slips down her cheek and I brush it away gently with my thumb.
“So I waited. And I would have waited longer if I had to but I’m very grateful I didn’t.
” A few people laugh quietly. “I promise to keep noticing the small things. I promise always to make room for your laughter. And I promise that no matter how many years pass I will never stop feeling lucky that you chose me.”
By the time I finish, there’s not a dry eye in the chapel. Especially not Quinn’s.
“Damien,” she says softly. “You’re the calm in every storm I didn’t know I was walking through.
You’re the man who showed up when I needed someone most. And you’re the reason I finally learned what love is supposed to feel like.
” Her voice wavers slightly. “You didn’t try to change me.
You didn’t rush me. You just waited. And somewhere along the way I realized something, too. ”
“What?” I ask quietly.
“That the man I’d been looking for was standing in front of me the whole time.”
The officiant smiles warmly. “Rings.”
Laine hands them over and I slide the ring onto Quinn’s finger. It fits perfectly. She does the same for me.
Then the officiant looks at both of us. “By the power vested in me I now pronounce you husband and wife.” He smiles. “You may kiss your bride.”
Finally. I pull Quinn closer and kiss her. The chapel erupts into applause, cheers, and laughter. Skye whistles loudly from the front row. Luke shouts something inappropriate that Laine immediately smacks him for. But I barely hear any of it.
Because Quinn’s arms are wrapped around my neck and she’s smiling against my lips like the happiest woman in the world.
When we finally pull apart she whispers something only I can hear. “You were right.”
“About what?”
“Waiting.”
I smile. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
She kisses me again quickly. “Definitely worth it.”
And standing there in the middle of the chapel surrounded by everyone we love I know one thing for certain. Sometimes the best love stories don’t start with fireworks. Sometimes they start with patience, a quiet promise, and the belief that the right person is worth waiting for.
The End