36. Epilogue
Epilogue
Cher
Two years later...
“You’re stunning,” Lydia tells me, smiling at me in the full-length mirror. “Jude will be in tears over you. I just know it.”
I nervously wring my hands in front of me, taking in the floor length white gown. “What if he changes his mind? What if he decides that he doesn’t want to marry me?”
Lydia laughs as Emma enters the room. “There’s no way Jude is going to change his mind. He’s obsessively in love with you. He’d have married you a long time ago.”
Taking a deep breath, I nod. “Yeah, he’s nuts.”
“So are you,” Emma jokes, flipping her red waves over her shoulders. “And it’s a beautiful, chaotic mess. I can’t imagine you being with anyone else. I dig it.”
“I think Jude would murder anyone else. Or maybe I would,” I reason, letting out a nervous giggle. My mind is at peace, and even amidst the anxiety of my wedding day, there’s no voices. They died with Nile.
And it’s only been up from there.
I smooth my hands over the white lace, my black nails a stark contrast. The Black Widow has long gone into retirement, and I’ve never felt freer—or happier. The material of my dress drapes off my shoulders and I take one last look at myself. “We should’ve just eloped. I look too much like a princess.”
“Oh come on,” Lydia grabs my arm and tugs me toward the door. “That wouldn’t have been any fun at all. I’d hate to miss this. It’s like our fucked-up family is whole now.”
“I agree,” Emma adds, her hand on her slightly pregnant stomach. “I’m tired enough as it is.” She catches me eying her hand, and she laughs. “Are you two already talking kids?”
I shrug. “Maybe eventually after we move to Oregon. Right now, I just want to focus on not passing out as I make the walk to Jude.”
“Fair enough,” Emma laughs. “Let’s go then.”
Nervously, I follow them out of the dressing room to the hallway of the wedding cathedral. I chose it for the woods surrounding the massive ceiling length windows, and of course, Jude went with it. He’d marry me anywhere, including the same dark alley he first fucked me in.
That’s how romantic my soon-to-be husband is.
I meet Luca and Henry outside of the large doors, and they both smile at me.
“Ready?” Henry offers his arm. “Because if not, you can still call this whole fucking thing off, and I’ll deal with Jude.”
I roll my eyes. “No thanks.”
“Good.” Henry nods, and the music starts. Luca pairs off with Emma, and Lydia walks with Cash down the aisle, leaving Henry and I to enter when the song changes. My brother guides me forward, and the doors swing open for us.
My eyes lock with Jude’s, the nerves washing away under his gaze. Tears brim his lids, and he swats them away as he waits for me, looking fucking drop dead gorgeous in his black and white suit.
I break into a smile, my own tears slipping down my cheeks. If I had known years ago that a happy ending wasn’t out of my reach, maybe I’d have never lost myself in the darkness, tortured and grieving in solidarity.
But had I not taken that journey, this moment might not feel as sweet as it does right now—and I’d go through it all over again, just to be right here with him. My rock, my best friend, and...
My hound.
Henry passes me to Jude, and I take his hand, letting him help me to stand in front of him. I never thought I’d vow to spend the rest of my life loving someone, and the overwhelming sense of gratitude nearly brings me to my knees.
Unable to resist, I grab Jude, pulling his lips to mine.
“My wife,” he murmurs and then chuckles with surprise as I deepen the kiss. However, he doesn’t pull away, falling into me like we’re not standing in a room in front of people. His hands drag my waist into him, and I giggle into his mouth.
Luca clears his throat. “I think you’re supposed to do that after...”
I give them all the middle finger. This is my wedding.
And it’s fucking perfect.
***