Epilogue
NIA
“Auntie Nia, you better hurry,” Lyla's voice is urgent, her usual exuberance tinged with an almost comical sense of gravity as she pokes her head into the doorway. Her eyes, wide with excitement and a hint of mischief, sparkle like they’re holding on to some delicious secret. Standing beside her, Richard mirrors her expression, his usual calm demeanor replaced with a solemn nod, as if he’s been entrusted with the gravest of missions.
Their youthful energy contrasts sharply with the nerves that have been bubbling inside me all morning, and for a moment, I’m pulled out of my anxious reverie, focusing instead on the two little rascals who’ve brought so much light into my life.
“What’s wrong?” I raise an eyebrow, trying to keep the nervous tremor out of my voice, though my stomach flips as I ask.
Lyla, ever the dramatic, leans in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “He looks like he’s going to be sick. But that could just be the drink that Daddy made him take in one gulp. He coughed. A lot.”
Richard stifles a giggle, clearly trying to maintain his composure, but the corners of his mouth twitch upward, betraying his amusement. “He’s probably just nervous,” he adds, his voice small but wise beyond his years. “It’s a big day, after all.”
I glance between the two of them, trying not to let their words add to my own growing anxiety. “Go away, heathen,” I hiss playfully, reaching out to ruffle Lyla’s hair. She dodges with a practiced ease, her laughter ringing out like a bell, echoing off the walls and filling the room with warmth.
Richard gives me a small, supportive smile, the kind that’s far too mature for his age. “Don’t worry, Auntie Nia. Uncle Josh will be fine. He just needs a minute.”
I smile back, grateful for his reassurance, feeling a little bit of the tension in my shoulders ease. “Thanks, Richard. You’re right, as always.”
Lyla grins, grabbing Richard’s hand. “Come on, Richard. Let’s give Auntie Nia a minute to breathe. She’s gonna need it.”
They scamper off, their giggles echoing down the hallway as they disappear from view, leaving me with the heavy silence of the room and the fluttering butterflies in my stomach. I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly, trying to calm the racing thoughts in my head.
“You look gorgeous,” my dad’s voice comes from the doorway, and I turn to see him standing there, his eyes misting over as he takes in the sight of me. His presence is like a balm to my frayed nerves, grounding me in the moment. There’s a softness to his expression, a mix of pride and the kind of emotion that only a father can have when he sees his little girl all grown up.
He crosses the room with slow, deliberate steps, as if he’s savoring this moment, committing it to memory. When he reaches me, he cups my face gently in his hands, his thumbs brushing against my cheeks before he leans in to kiss me. The familiar scent of his aftershave, the one he’s worn for as long as I can remember, surrounds me, offering a sense of comfort and stability.
“You’re perfect,” he says, his voice thick with emotion as he takes a step back to admire me fully. “I wouldn’t have picked that color, but it’s not my choice.” His attempt at humor does the trick, and I find myself laughing, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep inside, loosening the knot of tension in my chest.
He winks, then offers me his arm. “Let’s go.”
“I’m so glad we’re only doing this once,” I mutter under my breath as we walk outside. The sound of the door clicking shut behind us echoes in my ears, amplifying the fluttering nerves in my stomach. My legs feel like they’re about to give out from under me, but Dad’s steady arm keeps me upright.
“You and me both, kiddo,” Dad replies with a chuckle, squeezing my arm gently. “Though I think you’re the one who’s gonna have to keep him in line. That’s a full-time job.”
I roll my eyes, but a small smile tugs at my lips. “Why did Josh send you to get me, anyway?” I ask, a touch of curiosity in my voice.
“He thought you’d chicken out,” Dad says with a shrug, his tone light but teasing. “He knows you too well, I suppose. He’s pretty sure you’re going to try and run away. Besides, I think he wanted to make sure I got one last moment with my little girl before he steals you away.”
I can’t help but smile at that. “Stealing me away? Sounds like you’re letting him off easy.”
“Oh, I’ll make him pay for it later,” Dad jokes, his voice warm with affection. “But for now, let’s get you out there.”
Music blares from the backyard of the house that Josh and I just closed on, and we step out on the back porch to a crowd of people.
“Happy birthday!” they shout at once.
Dad lets go of my arm and I fight the urge to bolt back inside. “Meanie,” I hiss.
And then he is giving me to Josh.
But when I turn to where Josh should be standing, ready to greet me, he’s not there. My heart skips a beat as I search for him, panic momentarily seizing me. Then I spot him—sitting on the ground, of all places, looking like he’s been knocked off his feet by some invisible force.
“What are you doing?” I ask, half laughing, half-panicked as I hurry over to him. The sight of him there, looking up at me with that mischievous grin, is both endearing and confusing.
He doesn’t answer right away, his eyes locking on mine as if he’s trying to commit this moment to memory, and suddenly, all the nerves come rushing back.
“Are you okay?” I hold out a hand, my concern growing as I try to help him up. But instead of taking it, he just stares at me, his eyes widening as he takes in my outfit.
“You’re wearing a bright-yellow dress? For your birthday party?” he asks, his tone incredulous but tinged with a hint of laughter. His gaze moves from the dress to my face, as if he’s trying to reconcile the image before him with the woman he knows.
I shift uncomfortably under his scrutiny, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “I lost a bet. With Lyla,” I admit mournfully, the memory of our deal still fresh in my mind. “I have to wear yellow. To match hers.”
As if on cue, Lyla waves exuberantly from her spot next to her parents, her own yellow dress practically glowing in the sunlight. Richard, ever the loyal sidekick, is wearing a pair of yellow shorts that match our dresses perfectly. His proud smile makes it clear that he’s as much a part of this mischief as Lyla is.
“She hates me,” I mutter.
Josh still isn’t getting up.
“What are you doing down there? People are going to start looking at us soon,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant, though I can feel my pulse quickening. The truth is, everyone is already looking. When I glance around, I see that every set of eyes in the yard is fixed on us, anticipation hanging in the air like a tangible thing.
“Nia,” Josh says softly, his voice pulling my attention back to him. There’s something in his tone that makes my breath catch in my throat, something that tells me this moment is about to change everything.
I look down to see him no longer on his ass. Now he is on a knee, but he still has my hand.
“What?”
“Marry me,” he says, his voice steady and sure, as if this is the most natural thing in the world. But there’s a vulnerability in his eyes, a quiet plea that makes my breath hitch.
“What?” My heart starts racing even faster, and I pull my hand away, thinking about running in the opposite direction. The intensity of the moment is overwhelming, and for a split second, I’m tempted to bolt back into the safety of the house.
Maybe I can make it back inside before anyone notices.
But then Josh’s hand tightens around mine, pulling me back into the present, grounding me in the reality of what’s happening.
“You’re going to marry me,” he says. There’s no hesitation, no doubt, just the quiet confidence of a man who knows exactly what he wants. And that’s me.
“You’re not asking?” I manage to choke out, the heat rising to my cheeks as I become acutely aware of everyone watching us. I’ve always hated being the center of attention, and right now, I feel like I’m under a spotlight, every eye in the yard on me, waiting for my reaction.
Josh shakes his head, smiling as he pulls a ring from his other pocket. “No,” he says simply, as if that’s all there is to it. “I’m not asking. I’m telling you. Because I know, deep down, that you’re just as sure about this as I am.”
“What if I say no?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper, but there’s a playful glint in my eyes. I lick my lips, suddenly aware of how dry they’ve become, as if the weight of this moment has stolen all the moisture from my mouth.
He gets up slowly, still holding my hand, and slides the ring onto my finger. The cool metal sends a shiver up my spine, and I can’t help but marvel at how perfectly it fits, as if it was made for me.
“I’ll just tie you to the bed until you say yes,” he replies, his voice low and teasing, but there’s an edge of seriousness in his tone that makes my breath catch. He’s not joking. This man would do anything to keep me, to make sure I’m his forever. “But first I’ll choke you on my dick until tears run down your face and you’re begging for me to fuck you.”
“Is that a promise?”
In the next second, I’m in his arms, lifted off the ground as easily as if I weigh nothing at all. He kisses me swiftly, his lips warm and firm against mine, sending a jolt of electricity through my body. When he pulls back, his eyes are sparkling with mischief, and he winks at me, making my heart flutter.
“I’ll be tying you to the bed no matter what you say. But we both know you’re going to marry me. You’re not running from us anymore.”
“Yes,” I tell him. “Now take me to bed.”
“Not a chance.” Josh laughs, the sound warm and full of love, as he pulls me closer and kisses me soundly. The crowd of people around us erupts into cheers and applause, their voices mingling with the music and the warm evening air, but all I can focus on is Josh—the way his eyes shine with love and desire, the way his hands feel on my skin, the way his heartbeat echoes in time with mine.
“This is your birthday party,” he reminds me, his voice full of that teasing tone I love so much. “You have to stay, enjoy it, and only after everyone leaves will I tie you to the bed. I even got a new set of ropes to use to celebrate.”
I laugh, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep inside, and nod, knowing that he’s right. This is a celebration, not just of my birthday, but of everything we’ve been through together—every challenge, every triumph, every moment of terror and darkness that guided me into his arms has brought us to this point.
“Auntie Nia’s getting married!” Lyla shouts at the top of her lungs.
Wolf whistles and more shouts and cheers meet our ears.
“You should have just taken me to bed.”
“Nah.” Josh wraps his arm around me, guiding me down into the fray of the party. “We’ve got the rest of our lives for that. Right now? Right now, I want to celebrate you with our friends and family.”
How can I say no to that?
This perfect man, bringing me to life when all I wanted was to run away from reality.
He’s everything I’ve ever wanted, and everything I didn’t know I needed.
“You know there’s no take backs, right?” I toss his words back at him. “You’re stuck with me forever.”
“Damn right.” He kisses me. “You’re mine.”