Epilogue 1
MADDOX
TWO MONTHS LATER
There are moments in your life that you never forget. I have a bucketload of those memories, and most of them feature my best friend.
From our first meeting outside of a busy kindergarten to the time I found her struggling to paint the nails on her right hand in the yard at recess and offered to help regardless of how it might damage my badass, eleven-year-old reputation, Braxton is a living entity in my mind.
She’s in my past, present, and sure as hell my future.
Everything that I am today, she’s played a part in moulding.
And as I watch that short, frizzy-haired little girl with the electric-blue eyes from my memories become my wife fifteen years later, I know that I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. Every wrong path I took, every mistake along the way, all led me right back here. To my other half.
To my soulmate.
I dreamed of seeing her in a white dress and veil someday, but Braxton is beyond dreaming. She’s a goddess, and somehow, I’m lucky enough to call her mine. My wife.
A white silk dress hugs her curves and spills at her feet.
It trails behind her on the deep blue carpet in the aisle of the chairs and over the grass in my parents’ backyard.
Sparkling, sheer sleeves cover her arms, and the material carries over to the dipped neckline, hiding the swell of her breasts.
Her waist is cinched, and I want nothing more than to place my hands on her hips and pull her the rest of the way.
A veil is clipped to the back of an intricate-looking updo, and it shines the way her sleeves and chest do.
There are daisies in her hair, matching the bouquets tied to the backs of the guests’ chairs and hung by the aisles and from the tree house behind me.
I swallow when my eyes finally reach hers, and I find them waiting, so warm and familiar.
Her eyelashes are long and thick and make the blue in her eyes sharper, more defined. With each step she takes, the sheen across them becomes clearer, and I know she can tell the same about mine because I can feel the tears on my cheeks, and I don’t care to wipe them away just yet.
She’s so beautiful it hurts, and when she smiles at me, my heart skips a beat—or five. My lungs fold in on themselves, and I force a breath out, grinning at her and fighting back the urge to steal her from my dad and pull her close.
Speaking of the old man, I watch as he places a hand over the arm she has threaded through his and gives it a squeeze. It’s a touch that says a million words, and when he looks at me and dips his chin, I know what he’s trying to say.
I love you both. I’m so proud of you.
A ball lodges in my throat as I nod back, swiping a hand across my cheeks.
When Braxton reaches me, the minister says a few words that I don’t register before Dad is placing her hand in mine and patting me on the shoulder before moving to his seat beside Mom.
My next inhale is shaky as I bring our joined hands to my lips and grab her other one, moving it to rest against my chest and the thundering beat inside of it.
I want to kiss her already, want to sweep her up and take her away from here, but I focus on the zaps where we touch and remind myself that she’s not going anywhere. There isn’t any need to rush.
“You are breathtaking,” I whisper, lowering our hands to rest between us while gliding my thumbs over her knuckles.
“So are you.”
And I believe her, because when she trails her eyes over my face and down the front of my suit, she looks as taken by me as I imagine I do as I stare at her.
The minister starts to welcome everyone, but his voice is nothing more than a whisper as I stare at Braxton.
At her wobbly chin, the loose curls left out of her updo to frame her face, and the frantic fluttering of her eyelashes as she tries not to cry.
The crowd fades, and she becomes my focus, like she has been for my entire life.
Time moves fast, the ceremony speeding by, and I don’t take my eyes off my bride once.
Not as I recite my vows and not as she speaks hers.
Even as Noah hands me our rings and I slide the band onto her finger, my eyes don’t waver.
It’s not until she pushes a silver band up my finger and over my knuckle that I drop my gaze to our hands.
Fuck, I already love wearing this ring. I make a promise to myself right here and now that I will never take it off. It will become a part of me.
As soon as the words “kiss the bride” fall from the minister’s mouth, I’m diving toward my wife. With her cheeks in my hands, I press my thumbs to her chin and press our lips together. She meets my kiss with the same urgency, and it takes everything in me not to groan in approval.
The crowd hollers, and someone claps me on the back, but as I drop a hand to Braxton’s waist and pull her into me, I don’t give a shit who’s around. I continue to kiss my wife until she pushes away, a furious type of love in her eyes.
“Save some for later, husband,” she teases.
I squeeze her hip and bump her nose with mine. “Be careful what you ask for, wife.”
And fucking hell, if finally calling her my wife doesn’t sound like the most beautiful thing on this earth.
brAXTON
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to calling you my sister-in-law!” Addie squeals, carefully brushing a few hairs out of my face.
We’re taking a minute to hide in one of the bathrooms in Oakley and Ava’s house after the past few hours of absolute insanity that is a big wedding.
She’s helped me change out of my wedding dress and into a looser, knee-length white dress with thin straps and a modest neckline.
For the first time since this morning, I can take a full breath without the corset crushing my lungs.
“I know. I don’t think it’s fully hit me yet,” I breathe, glancing down at the wedding ring on my left hand. Flutters fill my stomach as I twirl the band.
“How does it feel to be Mrs. Braxton Hutton?”
My cheeks warm. “Like it was meant to be?”
“God, you two are adorable,” she sighs.
I smooth my hands down my sides and lean over the counter, taking in my red cheeks and slightly swollen lips in the bathroom mirror. There’s a red mark on the side of my throat, and I think my cheeks flush an even deeper shade of red as I remember how that mark got there.
“I just feel really lucky, you know?”
“I can. But remember that he’s lucky too. Dox might be my brother, but you’re amazing too. You deserve the best kind of love, and I’m so glad that you’ve found that with my brother.”
I look at Addie and smile, pulling her into my arms. “For someone so young, you’re incredibly wise.”
She laughs. “I think that’s because I had all of you guys to watch growing up. I always wanted to be one of you, and I think that made me grow up a bit faster.”
“You were always perfect the way you were, Addie. And you’re perfect now.”
“Thank you,” she says softly, squeezing me once before letting go. “How do you feel now? Ready to go back out there? I know we can be a little crazy and overwhelming.”
“I’ll take a little crazy over whatever the hell is going on with my family,” I say, bitterness burning my tongue.
Addie scowls, and it looks wrong. Her soft features and bubble-gum-pink lips aren’t meant to twist that way.
“Have you spoken to your dad yet today? I was surprised when I saw him in the crowd at the ceremony,” she says.
I turn my back to the mirror and fiddle with the dainty tennis bracelet on my wrist. A gift from the Hutton family for my wedding day.
“He caught Dox and me right after the ceremony finished. Wished us a rushed congratulations and then left. I don’t know whether I should be grateful that he showed up or annoyed that he couldn’t get past his issues with your family to stay for the entire thing,” I admit.
My relationship with my father hasn’t changed all that much in the past couple of months besides him not being out to get my husband.
He seemed to take my threat seriously the day I told him to leave his past with Maddox alone, and while he hasn’t made much of an effort to build on the weak foundation of a relationship that we have, he hasn’t broken it further.
It’s really the bare minimum, but as long as he leaves my family alone, I’ll continue to try and encourage a relationship with him. He is still my father at the end of the day, even if he’s not the greatest one.
My mother, on the other hand, she’s flourishing.
Her boyfriend is here with her today, and while our initial meeting was fifty shades of awkward, he seems like a nice guy.
He treats my mother well, and as far as I’m concerned, that’s all that matters.
How and when they met doesn’t change anything in my eyes.
We’re closer than we were months ago, and when Maddox and I decided to get married before moving to Ottawa for his first preseason on his new team, Mom was so excited to be included in the planning.
I’m so, so happy to be able to see her smile again.
“I think you’re allowed to be both. Happy that he showed up and annoyed that he couldn’t put you first again and stay,” Addie says.
“Either way, I refuse to let it affect my day. Today has been perfect.”
More than, actually, but I’m not sure how to put it all into words.
I jump when a knock sounds on the door, and Addie flies toward it, slowly peeling it open to peek at who’s on the other side.
“Stop hogging my wife, Adalyn,” Maddox orders, voice gruff and commanding.
I fight back a shiver in anticipation of seeing him again and move behind her. She rolls her eyes at her brother before giving me a quick side hug and a knowing grin and slipping out. As soon as she’s gone, Maddox is pushing his way inside, eyes nearly glowing as he takes me in and locks the door.
“Fucking hell, baby girl. You expect me to keep my hands to myself tonight when you look like this?”