Epilogue
We did it
Brooklyn
“I, Brooklyn Briggs, take you, Marco Adrian Deluca, to be my husband. I promise to be faithful to you, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love you and to honor you all the days of my life,” I said, swallowing around the cue ball of emotion clogging my throat.
Never would I have imagined that I’d be so lucky to not only find true love but get to keep it for all eternity.
Turning, Marco held Giada in one arm, and with his other hand, he retrieved my ring from Dom. I already had his in my hand, Capri having slipped it to me over my shoulder when it became obvious I couldn’t peel my eyes off the most amazing man I knew and my daughter. Our daughter.
She was almost a year old and dressed in the sweetest white mass of tulle and satin, not unlike my own dress.
At first, I wasn’t sure how I felt about having her wear a tiny replica of my ceremony gown because I liked that she had her own personality and never wanted her to be tainted by my decisions.
But I quickly realized if that ever had happened, then this decision wasn’t my worst but rather, my best.
We set our rings on the priest’s Bible, and he blessed them before we exchanged them—our never-ending signs of love and fidelity as we placed them on each other’s fingers.
The priest said a blessing and declared it was time for our first kiss as husband and wife. The moment I’d been waiting for.
Marco shifted Giada in his arms and leaned in just as I tilted my head.
There was less urgency to our first kiss as a married couple.
Part of me thought it was because we had our entire lives to be needy and desperate for each other.
Part of me thought it was because we were finally both at peace, having found each other, someone who understood and respected the other with no judgment or ulterior motives, with unconditional love.
A concept that hadn’t always been familiar to either of us.
He brushed his tongue over my lower lip, and I knew how easy it would be to turn greedy, wanting more. However, we showed great restraint, Marco stepping back as I placed my hand on his chest.
Everything after Marco pulled his lips from mine felt like a dream until we got to the oasis that was the bridal suite, waiting for us to share our first private moments as Mr. and Mrs. Deluca.
“We did it, wife,” Marco said.
Me…a wife. That fact alone made me euphoric.
He snaked his arm around my waist and pulled me close after he set Giada down in the playpen we had set up for her.
We certainly had our options for childcare, but neither of us wanted to be separated from Giada. Truly, she was an integral part of the day, and we wanted to include her as much as possible, which meant keeping her close by.
He brushed feather-light kisses along my jawline, and it felt good to be in his arms. I rubbed my hands over his shoulders and down his back, delighting in the way he looked in his high-end made-to-measure black tuxedo.
“I know, husband,” I said, letting the word roll off my tongue, appreciating the way it sounded.
His eyes searched mine until he moved swiftly, his mouth crashing against my lips. I braced my hands on his shoulders, running them down the length of his arms as I moaned my desire. Parting my lips, I didn’t have to wait long for his hot tongue to tease the tip of mine.
Threading his hands through my hair, I paused my movements as he seemed stuck in the midst of the hairspray. I had a multitude of bobby pins in my hair and a decent amount of spray to hold it all together.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t the most accommodating for wild hands and hungry kisses.
After we broke apart, I wiped my lipstick from his mouth, allowing my finger to linger there for a brief moment, reveling in his luscious lips. Lips that were all mine. Now and forever. Until the end of time.
Clearing my throat, I forced myself to turn away, holding up my finger as I did so. There was something very important I had kept in this room for this exact moment, and Marco needed to know about it. Rummaging through my bag, I pulled out the envelope I’d been holding onto for far too long.
Curious, Marco closed the gap between us. “What do you have there?”
I let my eyes roam over the envelope. There was hardly an appropriate way to describe it to him.
This was one of those things he had to see for himself.
“My wedding present for you,” I said and handed it over, the artificial light striking my three-stone toi et moi engagement ring.
Marco had upgraded it to a three diamond ring after Giada was born.
The pear, oval, and emerald-cut stones in a platinum setting were a stunning symbol of the addition of our little girl and everything she brought to our lives.
Although, for as captivating as my diamonds were, the thing that held my gaze for a beat longer than it should have was my wedding ring.
The custom curved diamond pavé eternity band was made for me in more ways than one.
It was made for my heart. The heart of a girl who would not only spend the rest of her life cherishing jewelry, but also the family she was creating for herself.
I knew firsthand that girl had come a long way, and the pressure she’d once felt finally left her a diamond in her own right.
Shaking my head, though, I pushed all of those thoughts aside.
Today was a day to celebrate, to love, and to cherish.
I wanted to make sure Marco felt all of that and more because he’d certainly made me feel those things, but he was obviously waiting for my go-ahead.
“Open it,” I coaxed, anticipation mounting in me.
Slipping his index finger into the fold of the envelope, he ripped at the glue before pulling out the heavy-weight safety paper first. I watched closely as his eyes scanned the document, and slowly he beamed, recognition blooming across his expression as he smiled as bright as the morning sun.
“Kiki,” he said, and I could hear the crack in his husky voice through even the one word.
I blinked back tears. This moment was for Marco, but it was just as much for me. “She’s yours. She’s always been yours. This paper confirms that,” I said of Giada’s updated birth certificate.
He shook his head. “I knew you had me sign an acknowledgment of paternity, but I didn’t know you ever did anything with it. I thought it was just a safety net in case of anything.”
I shrugged. “It was, but then I decided to file it.”
“Why?”
“It made sense.”
“But what about—”
I knew he was thinking about Robert. While he had made his position clear, we could never be too safe.
Luckily for me, though, Robert was a man of action, even if it was wholly unnecessary.
I tapped the envelope with my manicured fingernail.
“He never needed to sign away his rights because paternity was never established, but in the event it ever came up, he wanted it to be known that he wanted nothing to do with her.”
“Stronzo,”12 Marco muttered under his breath.
I nodded my agreement with the fact that Robert Lyons was indeed an asshole.
“Anyway, his legal team prepared something, and it’s all in there.”
Marco put the birth certificate back in the envelope and slipped it back into my bag for safe keeping. “You’ve made me the happiest man in the world today. Twice over.” A raw, guttural sound rose from his throat before cupping my cheek, his thumb brushing over the side of my mouth.
Stepping closer so we were flush with one another, I ran my hands over his back, his strong back that was carved by the burdens of his life, displaying strength and resilience in equal measure to his gentleness and compassion.
“Imagine how happy you’ve made me,” I said, a hairsbreadth away from his mouth, before placing a chaste kiss there.
Gripping me by my bare shoulders, Marco pushed back slightly and grinned.
“I think it’s time I give you your wedding present.
” As I came to stand on my own two feet, he unbuttoned his jacket and removed his bow tie, and my mind went to all of the places it shouldn’t have inside a church with our daughter present.
But that was just the kind of spell this man had over me.
“Marco,” I pleaded as I took his bow tie in my hand, wondering what he was doing and why he was teasing me.
Laughing, he continued to undress, removing his white shirt. “Hold on.” He turned around so his back was facing me. “What do you think?” he asked as my eyes locked on his right shoulder blade and the new ink that marked the spot.
“When did you get that?” I asked, realizing it had to be new because he still wore the clear adhesive bandage and I hadn’t seen it before. I reached out, my finger dancing around the skin that edged it, itching to trace it. It was beautiful.
He looked over his shoulder at me. “Yesterday. Do you like it?”
The heart design that incorporated his name and my nickname was not only one of the sweetest things another person had done for me but also one of the sexiest. “You got yourself tattooed with our names. Of course I love it. I love your tattoos.”
“I know,” he said, drawing out the last word and laughing as he did.
Locking my hand around his shoulder, I spun him to face me. “I love you, Marco Deluca. Thank you. Thank you for loving me.”
I could feel the smile that tugged at his lips, the adoration that no words could express as he focused solely on me. “Until the day I die.”
The End