Epilogue #3
Simone makes a sound that isn’t quite a laugh, isn’t quite a cry. Then she leans back into me like she needs me to hold her upright. And I do just that. Because I always will.
I look over to the fridge that’s covered in artwork from the boys, pictures of Simone and me, and…
the handwritten note from my mom that we keep there.
The one she wrote for my wedding day. The one I love re-reading all the time because of how perfectly she predicted the future I didn’t believe would be possible for me to have.
Mason,
If you’re reading this on your wedding day, then I truly couldn’t be happier.
You’ve found the kind of love I used to pray for you to find.
I wish I could see you standing there, probably an emotional wreck even though you’re trying so hard not to show it.
You’ve always carried your heart like it was something fragile, something that had to be protected. But you were never fragile, my sweet boy. You were tender. And the world confuses the two.
I knew you were different from the first time I laid my eyes on you. You looked at me like you were trying to understand everything already. You always were, way too soon in life.
You were always so in tune with how everyone around you felt growing up.
I remember when you were a baby, and I used to rock you at night and whisper the same prayer over you again and again.
Let him know love.
Let him become love.
Let him never doubt that he is worthy of it.
If you’re standing beside a woman today, a woman who sees you, who makes you want to be softer and more tender, who challenges you, who makes you laugh in that deep way that comes from your stomach, then God answered me.
Love her loudly, Mason.
Love her in the quiet ways too. In the dishes done without being asked, in the way you listen when she talks about something that doesn’t matter to anyone else but matters to her, in the way you hold her when she breaks.
Be the man you needed when you were little. Not perfect, just present, okay?
You will be tempted to shut down sometimes with her, to go quiet, to protect your heart by building walls instead of bridges. You learned that from watching the wrong example.
But you are not him.
You are the boy who used to bring me dandelions like they were bouquets. You are the boy who cried when a bird hit our window. You are the boy who would crawl into my bed after a nightmare and pretend you weren’t scared…just “checking on me.”
Don’t lose that boy.
He is the best part of you.
You know, we don’t ever outgrow the child inside of us. Most people just push that part of themselves down and tuck it away. But we’re meant to keep that spirit alive. It’s a part of what keeps us truly happy in life.
Protect that boy inside of you. Don’t hide him away.
And when you have children of your own one day, hold them tighter than you think you need to. Tell them you love them every single day. Get on the floor and play with them. Apologize when you’re wrong. Let them see you feel.
Break the cycle, Mason.
That will be your greatest legacy.
Not a degree, not a job, not any amount of money you can make.
How you love the people around you will be what sticks with a person long after you’re gone.
I don’t know what your life will look like when you open this. But I need you to know this:
You were my light when I thought I had none left.
And the woman standing across from you today? She is not there to fix you. She is there to walk beside you.
Choose her every day. Even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.
And if you ever look up and see a butterfly land nearby on a day you need reassurance, just smile at me.
I will always be so unbelievably proud of you.
Go build the life you deserve.
All my love,
Mom.
Simone’s phone rings on the counter, breaking the moment.
She reaches for it and answers, putting it on speakerphone and placing it back on the counter.
Lydia’s voice fills the room instantly. “We’re bringing the kids over. Please tell me you have something edible because I’m not cooking tonight.”
I lean over, getting closer to the phone. “Please, come ruin our peace.”
“Peace?” she repeats, almost scandalized. “You have four boys and a newborn baby. That word doesn’t exist in your house.”
“Is that Aunt Lyd?” Nash shouts, propping himself up on the back of the couch.
“Yeah,” I shout back over to him. “Tell her y’all wanna go to her place, not them come here. I’m tryna get some alone time with ya mama.”
“Gross,” Easton says flatly, walking by to grab a drink from the fridge.
I hit him lightly on the back of the head, and he laughs.
“Yeah,” Simone says into the phone. “Come on over, bring the crew. I know Paisley and Noah have been asking all week to come play with the boys.”
I walk over, checking the bottle and then taking Nichole from Simone so I can feed her.
“Oh,” Simone says, still talking to Lydia on the phone. “Go knock on Lani’s door, tell them to come over too.”
“Man, what a dream it is that Lani got the third house in the cul-de-sac as soon as it went up for sale,” Lydia says. “God was really working in our favor with that one.”
I groan, bouncing Nichole as she eats. “He must not have been thinking about me, and all the time I now don’t get with my wife because we live next door to both of her best friends.”
“Amen to that,” Bash pipes in from the background of the call.
An hour later, my house is packed, with love, with people I couldn’t imagine not being a part of my life, with people who shaped me into who I am today.
Simone laughs with the girls, pressed against me on the couch, and I just watch her as she attempts to relax into the night, even when she’s constantly looking around, trying to make sure everyone else is okay.
I pull her closer and press a kiss to her hair. “I love you. Thank you for everything you do.”
She looks up at me with her bright, beautiful brown eyes that hold such a powerful light in them, and then kisses my cheek. “I love you more. Thank you for being you, for loving me, and…for taking on this chaos with me.”
“You remember that day up in the press box in college? When you asked me to describe my perfect day in the future?”
She nods.
“This is better than anything I could have pictured.”
She smiles up at me, and I can see the way her eyes are getting glassy.
“This is all I’ve ever wanted,” she tells me.
There’s a tenderness behind her words that makes my throat burn. Because this is what enough looks like.
Not perfection.
Not quiet.
Not control.
Just…love.
Messy, loud, and alive.
And it’s in this moment that I know I wouldn’t change a single thing in my life that has led me here.
The End.
Stay tuned after the author’s notes for a sneak peek into book three.