Six Months Later
Epilogue II
Wesley
If I thought Dahlia was thriving on stage doing burlesque, that pales in comparison to watching her run this program and learning the ins and outs of the farm.
She works unbelievably hard, so we’re definitely still working out the kinks of work-life balance.
For now, we work in tandem on the Sanctuary side of things—I’ve actually been able to start a small art group once a month.
Sometimes we have a topic to work on, sometimes we draw for the hell of it.
Sitting outside with the horses and painting or sketching… there’s nothing like it.
A lot of these kids are experiencing the same solace I got all those years ago. The heaviness on their faces when they come their first day versus the day they open up, it makes all the stress worth it.
Dahlia even encouraged me to start posting some of my drawings online, particularly the pinup succubi, and people are eating that shit up. It’s crazy to think this was something I hid for so long, when art speaks to so many people.
I’ve even been approached by a few authors to bring their characters to life, blowing my mind.
This line of work never even crossed my mind, but sure enough there’s an entire community of authors and readers who blow up my inbox with requests for commissions.
We’ll see where it goes, but for now, it’s a lot of fun.
Tonight though, Dahlia and I both have the night off and tickets to see Fata Morgana at the Liberty Arena—the same place we met. What she doesn’t know is our concert tickets are special this time around.
I wait in the living room of the cabin while Dahlia finishes getting ready.
Daphne showed me the perfect dress to buy for Dahlia—a black, western-style button down dress with flowers embroidered under the collar and around the chest. It’s the perfect mix of cowgirl and alternative, like my Dahlia.
She bounds down the stairs, every glorious inch of her glowing as she twirls to show me her outfit.
“Wes! It’s so perfect, look how cute!” She cheers.
Daphne gives her a huge hug and a kiss on the cheek before wishing us well.
“Have fun, you fuckers. Wish I could come, but you know. I’ve got some pretty big stuff to work on tonight.
” She pouts, though she didn’t elaborate on what she was busy with.
I’m dressed in a black flannel and boots, picked specifically to match the love of my life for a night we’ll never forget.
We pull into the parking lot of the arena and Dahlia’s fixes her makeup in the mirror.
That same sharp as hell eyeliner, the one with the staying power ultimately leading to our first kiss.
I can’t stop staring at her. I’m in awe of her beauty, inside and out.
She looks over at me with a smile. “You ready to go in?”
Fuck. I’m nervous now. “Um, yeah. Can you grab the tickets? Daphne said she left them in the glove box.” Can she tell I’m shaking? I wipe my sweaty hands on my jeans and I hop out of the cab to quickly get to her side.
When I open her door, she’s still rummaging through the glove box. “Why would we have paper tickets? They’re usually online for these bigger shows, no?” she questions.
“I’m not sure, I was told these were special access. Maybe a congratulations present from Jade?” I’m lying through my teeth.
“Oh! How thoughtful of her. Hopefully we’ll see her tonight, or maybe she can come by the house soon.
Okay, here they are, two tickets for—” She cuts herself off.
“Wes, what is this?” Dahlia looks to me with wide eyes as she sees the tickets are the old school rectangle paper ones. “Wes,” she breathes out.
“Dahlia, baby. You want to read me what it says?” My voice is shaking. Fuck, I’m ready to cry already. I am never going to get rid of the “Lover Boy” nickname.
Tears in her eyes, she starts. “VIP Ticket, admit two to forever. No refunds.” She sobs as she watches me sink down on one knee, right here in the parking lot.
“Dahlia, you are the greatest thing to ever happen to me. I would have waited a million years for you, even if I could only be your friend. You are so easy to love and there is not a single thing about you I don’t cherish.
I’m ready to spend the rest of this life and the next one, loving you and building a life with you.
You’ll be my friend always, but I’d really love to be your husband too. Will you marry me?”
I’m definitely crying at this point, but it doesn’t matter because Dahlia tackles me to the ground, straddling my hips and kissing me frantically.
“Wes.” Kiss. “I fucking.” Kiss. “Love you.” Kiss. “Hell yes, I’ll marry you.”
I sit up taking her face in my hands and I press a gentle kiss to her mouth.
“You are everything to me, Princess, everything I could have ever dreamed of in one beautiful soul. Be my wife, Dahlia.” I slip the black onyx ring onto her delicate finger, and it doesn’t even matter we’re on the ground in the parking lot, truck doors open, passerbys cheering.
This is a moment I’ll cherish until the end of time, and it’s all because I fell in love with my friend.
THE MOTHERFUCKING END!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!