Epilogue #3
“I promise that no matter what the world throws at us, you will always get to be yourself with me,” I said. “You will never have to pretend. You will never have to shrink to make someone comfortable. My job in this life is to make sure you feel safe enough to be exactly who you are.”
I lifted our joined hands slightly.
“I promise to stand beside you when things are easy and when they’re hard. I promise to build a life that feels warm and honest and full of the little things that make you happy. I promise to keep choosing you, every day, for the rest of my life.”
My chest felt tight when I finished, but the words came out steady.
“And I promise that I will only ever want you,” I said quietly. “Forever. I am so damn lucky that I get to be your wife.”
Silence settled over the room for a moment before the officiant smiled softly and stepped forward to continue the ceremony.
The rings were passed forward and slipped onto fingers that already felt like they belonged together. The officiant looked between us with a warm expression before speaking again.
“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you married,” she said.
Addison let out a small laugh that sounded half like relief and half like joy. The officiant nodded toward us.
“You can kiss the bride.”
I stepped closer and kissed her.
The moment wasn’t rushed, and it wasn’t careful. It felt exactly like the life we had built together.
When we pulled back, Addison rested her forehead briefly against mine and whispered that I had done it.
I shook my head slightly and told her that we had done it together.
Then we turned toward the aisle side by side and started walking forward, our hands still joined as we stepped into the rest of our life.
* * *
Addison
The reception felt like stepping into a version of my life I hadn’t dared to imagine a few years ago.
The venue sat at the edge of a stretch of rolling land that had turned deep gold and copper with autumn.
A huge white tent had been set up across the grass, its high peaks glowing softly under strands of warm string lights that zigzagged overhead.
Tables were arranged in loose circles beneath the fabric canopy, each one set with simple flowers and candles that flickered every time the breeze moved through the open sides of the tent.
The dance floor stretched across the center, polished wood reflecting the glow of the lights and the slow shifting colors of the sunset beyond it.
Outside the tent the air was cool in that perfect early-fall way that made everything feel crisp and alive.
Trees surrounded the property, their leaves bright with color, and every time I stepped out toward the edge of the lawn the scent of dry leaves and distant woodsmoke drifted through the evening.
It was elegant.
It was relaxed.
It felt exactly like us.
Someone had started music almost immediately after dinner ended, and now the dance floor was already crowded with people who had clearly decided they were done pretending to be dignified guests.
Benji was in the middle of it, of course, dancing with a level of enthusiasm that made the rest of the groomsmen look embarrassed by association. Vic had joined him, laughing while Jay tried to keep up with whatever chaotic rhythm they had invented.
I stood near the edge of the floor with a glass of champagne in my hand, watching it all with a kind of quiet disbelief.
For so long I had imagined this moment as something tense. Something complicated.
Instead it felt easy.
A warm presence settled beside me, and I glanced over to see Lilly sliding into the empty chair at the table.
She looked tired in the particular way that only came with being the parent of a one-year-old, but she was smiling at me with the same steady affection she always had.
“Well,” she said, lifting her glass toward me, “you did it.”
I laughed softly and clinked my glass against hers. “I did.”
Her eyes softened as she studied my face. “I’m really proud of you,” she said quietly.
The words hit me deeper than I expected. Two years ago I had sat across from Lilly at a coffee shop and tried to explain something that felt impossible to say out loud. I had been so afraid of losing her that my hands had shaken the entire time.
Now she was sitting beside me at my wedding. Nothing about that felt small. I followed her gaze across the dance floor.
Sawyer stood near the far edge of the tent, one arm wrapped securely around a small bundle of pink tulle and curls. Rose—Rosie, as Lilly insisted on calling her—was tucked against Sawyer’s chest while Sawyer bounced gently in time with the music.
Rosie clutched the lapel of Sawyer’s suit with determined little fingers while Sawyer swayed carefully so she wouldn’t drop her.
Lilly let out a soft laugh beside me. “That,” she said, nodding toward them, “is not something I ever expected to see.”
I watched Sawyer grin down at the baby while Rosie squealed and smacked one hand against her shoulder like she had discovered the greatest toy in the world.
My chest warmed. “It’s a pretty amazing sight,” I admitted.
Sawyer shifted Rosie onto her hip and started spinning slowly in a circle while Benji cheered from the dance floor.
Rosie squealed louder.
Lilly smiled as she watched them. “She likes her,” she said.