Epilogue
Peter
One year later
Fucking hell.
I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous in my whole life.
I’ve met with Arthur countless times over the last two years I’ve known the man. But this meeting isn’t like any meeting.
Today, I’m asking for his daughter’s hand in marriage.
Marriage.
Not something I’ve really ever envisioned for myself until Molly. With her, everything changed. With her, I want it all.
The ring.
The wedding.
Hopefully a small one.
I’ll endure whatever she wants as I love her more than I can comprehend.
The kids.
Some day at least.
The house.
“Peter, didn’t expect you to invite me to a meeting just yet. The season is still three months away.”
He must be surprised that I’ve asked for a meeting like this in the first place. We usually meet up all the time, and these kinds of meetings are reserved for the season. Which is why he must find it surprising.
God.
These nerves.
“Yeah. I’ve got something to ask you,” I say, hoping I’ll be able to cut straight to the point.
I know Arthur prefers that, but again, this question is quite different from the ones I’ve asked in the past.
I’m not asking him to fire a mechanic or a suit.
I’m asking him if it’s okay to propose to Molly.
“You’re making me nervous,” Arthur chuckles.
You and me both.
“I was wondering if you’d be okay with me proposing to Molly.”
At first comes the shock as Arthur simply gapes at me, his eyes wide and mouth open.
For several seconds, he just stares at me, not quite believing what I just told him.
Then it seems to register as he hurries up from his chair to come around and pull me into a hug.
“Of course I’m okay with that.”
The weight lifts of my shoulders as I get his blessing.
It’s not like I thought I wouldn’t, but you can never know.
I consider him family, and I think he does too.
“Now my dear wife can finally start that scrapbook of hers for real.”
We chuckle.
Molly’s mom has been talking about marriage ever since she first saw us together at that gala.
It may be her work getting her excited, but I think she just knew, deep down.