Epilogue
T hey did get married by the lake, Perry in a white dress that was reminiscent of the one she’d worn all those years ago with a mind to tempt him—and she did tempt him.
In ways that took his breath away. He understood, then, exactly what Jedediah Tanner had meant when he said that while he had made wedding vows once before; he didn’t really understand what they meant until the second time.
Carson was the same. Because this time, his heart belonged fully to the woman he was promising himself to.
This time, he understood the risk, the reward.
This time, he wasn’t rushing into something to run from what he really wanted. What he really needed. This was the first time, really. When he looked at Perry, he saw a hope for the future he had never even realized he could want.
When he looked at Perry, he understood love without fear. Because that was what they had both decided on. They had spent twenty-five years building up trust in each other, and it had taken all that time to transform that into the courage to love each other without walls.
But now that they did …
It made everything else small in comparison. Because it was no longer a hopeless world, not to him.
He didn’t need to be a hero. He only needed to be Perry Bramble’s husband.
When they kissed, and their friends and family clapped and cheered, he held her close. “I really did marry my best friend,” he whispered. “And I knew it.”
“What did you know?” she whispered.
“You were mine all along.”