Epilogue #2
— You were like those Highland castles—imposing, impressive from a distance, but terribly cold and unwelcoming up close. Or at least, that’s what I thought.
I tighten my grip on his hands, drawing courage from his steady gaze.
— What I didn’t know then was that there was so much more beneath the surface. That behind that facade of the perfect boss and responsible heir was a man who is deeply loyal, incredibly caring, and capable of a love so intense it could warm all of Scotland through the harshest winter.
I pause to breathe, trying to steady the emotion threatening to break my voice.
— Our story didn’t begin like a fairy tale. It was a contract. An arrangement. A business transaction. But somewhere between our arguments over the ideal temperature for the castle, your lessons on McGregor history, and that storm that trapped us in a certain cabin…
I let the sentence trail off and see Callum’s eyes darken at the memory. Ewan nudges him with a knowing grin, drawing a few amused chuckles from the crowd.
— Somewhere in the middle of all that, I fell hopelessly in love with you. And today, I promise not to be the perfect Scottish wife—let’s be honest, that battle was lost from the start—but to be perfectly myself, with you and for you.
I take a deep breath.
— I promise to keep shaking up your well-ordered life—but in a way that makes it richer, brighter, more alive.
I promise to love you in your strength and in your doubts, to celebrate your successes and lighten your burdens.
I promise to laugh with you, dream with you, and even learn to appreciate haggis for you…
although I may need a little more time on that last one.
Laughter rings out again, and even Isobel—once so cold—smiles.
— I love you, Callum James McGregor. And unlike most roles I’ve played, being your wife is one I want for the rest of my life.
A tear slides down his cheek, and he doesn’t even try to hide it. It might be the most moving thing I’ve ever seen—this proud man, usually so controlled, letting himself feel everything in front of the people he loves.
The pastor then guides us through the exchange of rings—new bands engraved inside with a Gaelic phrase Callum chose, meaning “Together in every storm.” It couldn’t be more fitting for us.
— By the power vested in me, the pastor declares joyfully, I now affirm your union before God and this assembly. Callum, you may kiss your wife.
Callum doesn’t need to be told twice. He pulls me into his arms and kisses me with a passion that draws a few appreciative whistles—definitely Ewan—and a few embarrassed coughs—almost certainly Isobel. I kiss him back just as fiercely, not caring in the slightest about the audience or propriety.
When we finally pull apart, to the applause of our guests, I catch a glimpse of Hamish out of the corner of my eye. Even he seems to approve, calmly chewing on part of the floral arrangement as if celebrating in his own way.
The reception that follows is exactly what we wanted: relaxed, joyful, intimate. Tables have been set under the marquee, laden with delicious dishes prepared by Mrs. Finley and her team. A small band plays traditional Scottish tunes with a modern twist, and a space has been cleared for dancing.
After our first dance—a waltz, because I flat-out refused to attempt Scottish dancing again after the incident we all remember—Callum taps his glass with a spoon to get everyone’s attention.
— My friends, my family, he begins, Jane and I want to thank you for being here today for this important moment in our lives. It’s not every day you get to marry the same person twice—and genuinely want to both times.
Laughter greets the remark, and he shoots me a playful look.
— There are many people I should thank today, but I’d like to start with those without whom none of this would have happened. My grandmother, Margaret McGregor, and my mother, Isobel McGregor.
All eyes turn to Maggie and Isobel. Maggie raises her glass with a satisfied smile.
— Without their benevolent manipulation, Jane and I never would have met. At the time, I thought it was the ultimate intrusion into my private life. Today, I can only acknowledge their wisdom—and their vision.
He lifts his glass toward them.
— To Maggie and Isobel—the most formidable strategists the Highlands have ever known.
— To Maggie and Isobel! the guests echo.
The woman in question inclines her head gracefully, clearly delighted by the public recognition of her matchmaking skills.
Then it’s my turn. I stand, a little nervous but excited about what I’m about to announce.
— When I first met Callum, I was an actress whose career was on the decline. Today, I stand before you not only as a wife and a member of the McGregor family, but as someone who has found a new professional path.
I pause, savoring the anticipation on the faces around me.
— I’m thrilled to announce that my first production, Highland Heart—a film written, produced, and shot entirely in Scotland, with both local and international talent—has secured full funding! Filming will begin this fall, right here in the Highlands.
Excited exclamations ripple through the crowd. Callum, who already knew but kept the secret, looks at me with unmistakable pride.
— The film tells the story of an unlikely romance between an American woman and a stubborn Scotsman. Any resemblance to real people is, of course, purely coincidental.
That earns knowing laughter.
— My goal is to capture the magic of this country, the depth of its traditions, and maybe also to show the world through the eyes of someone who fell in love with Scotland almost as deeply as she fell in love with her Scottish husband.
I raise my glass.
— To new adventures, second chances, and the kind of love that finds us exactly when we’re not looking for it.
— To new adventures! the crowd echoes enthusiastically.
The celebration continues—dancing, laughter, and that warm atmosphere that now defines our life at the castle.
I step away for a moment to take it all in: Callum deep in conversation with Ewan and his new girlfriend, an Irish photographer he met while covering local distilleries; Keira openly flirting with the village’s new veterinarian; Isobel and Maggie side by side, clearly plotting something—as they often do now; Savannah going wild on the dance floor with her loyal partner-in-crime, Lachlan.
I’m surprised to see Alistair McKenzie approaching me, a drink in hand and a surprisingly humble expression on his face—a far cry from our first meeting.
— Congratulations, Jane. You and Callum make a perfect couple.
— Thank you, Alistair, I reply cautiously. That’s… unexpected coming from you.
He shrugs lightly.
— Let’s just say I’ve had time to think these past few months. And maybe grow up a little. Your film project is impressive, by the way. If you ever need a consultant for anything related to the whisky industry…
— I’ll keep that in mind, I promise, surprised by the sincerity of the offer.
He nods, then adds with a faintly nostalgic smile:
— You know, I always knew Callum was a lucky man. But I don’t think I realized just how lucky until today.
With that, he walks away, leaving me slightly stunned. It seems people really can change—even manipulative business rivals.
My phone buzzes in the small pocket Keira insisted on adding to my dress (“Even a bride needs her phone in 2025, Jane”).
Max
Congrats on your big day, sweetheart! PS: Ryan finally landed that role in the sitcom about aliens living in a laundromat.
He plays the lead alien. The reviews are…
creative. You dodged a bullet, babe! PPS: I’ve already received three offers for your project after the funding announcement. Talk Monday?
I smile as I tuck my phone away. Ryan in an alien costume in a mediocre sitcom… there’s a certain poetic justice in that. As for Heather, I recently learned from Keira that she left the Highlands for London, where she apparently found a wealthy banker to charm. Good luck to him.
Callum joins me, sliding an arm around my waist.
— Everything okay? he asks softly. You looked lost in thought.
— Everything’s perfect, I reply, leaning into him. I was just thinking about how life can take unexpected turns. A year ago, I was a desperate actress signing a marriage contract with a man I barely knew—for purely practical reasons.
— And now?
— And now, I’m a film producer married to the man I love more than anything, living in a Scottish castle with a mother-in-law who has finally admitted that the way I make tea is not a crime against humanity.
He lets out a soft laugh and presses a kiss to my forehead.
— That is quite the evolution.
— The funny thing is, our story—the one that started as a cold business arrangement—ended up becoming more romantic than any Hollywood script I’ve ever read.
— Maybe because it’s real, he suggests.
— Maybe, I agree, tilting my face up toward his. Or maybe it’s because you’re secretly a hopeless romantic beneath that pragmatic businessman exterior.
— Don’t spread that rumor, Jane McGregor, or I’ll lose all credibility in business negotiations.
I laugh, rising onto my toes to kiss him.
— Your secret’s safe with me. One of the many things I’ve learned in Scotland—McGregors know how to keep family secrets.
— And you’re a McGregor now, he reminds me gently. Truly.
— Truly—and forever, I confirm, finally feeling exactly where I belong.
The music shifts to something more upbeat, and guests begin drifting back to the dance floor.
— Mrs. McGregor, may I have this dance? Callum asks formally, a playful glint in his eyes.
— With pleasure, Mr. McGregor, I reply, taking his hand. But I’m warning you—I’m still terrible at your Scottish dances. This could be dangerous for your toes.
— I’ll take the risk, he assures me, leading me onto the dance floor. Some things are worth a little pain.
And as we begin to dance, surrounded by our family and friends beneath the ever-changing Highland sky, I can’t help but think that sometimes, the best love stories are the ones we never would’ve dared to write ourselves.