Epilogue
Crystalize
Ten months later
desiree
Summertime
The crowd waiting beyond is quietly chatting, and Dylan takes my arm as I rub the small bump of my belly, the pale pink dress I’m wearing stretching out over with just enough room to spare. Not exactly the plan we had, to get pregnant so soon. On the other hand, Taven and I have rarely done things according to plan.
I look up at my big brother as he prepares to walk me down the aisle. He was the obvious choice to have by my side for this moment, as my father is not someone I wanted to give this honor to. I talk to him now and then, a decision I made after initially feeling disgusted by him, thinking I’d never want to see him again.
But when I thought about it, I thought of my mother. She loved him and chose to stay by his side. She was fiercely loyal like that, and I’ve chosen not to hold unnecessary hatred in my heart for him. Not worth the energy.
Thankfully, he’s off living a new life in Europe, and that’s just fine by me. I’ll see him for a quick coffee when he’s in town, but for the most part, that’s about where we stand. And no, he was not invited to the wedding. With Melissa as my maid-of-honor, and Jacqui as a bridesmaid, their comfort and ability to let loose in today’s festivities was far more important to me.
The three of us enjoyed a fun-filled weekend holed away in a mountain cabin for a makeshift bachelorette celebration. I watched as they shared a bottle of wine, laughing and crying and forming their own beautiful friendship. Eventually sharing some tales of good old Frank Hatson, then looking at me, startled at their drunken loose lips, worried I would be uncomfortable or offended. I waved them off, ensuring them the only thing that would make me uncomfortable was them holding back. We need to be able to speak up and share our honest and ugly stories now and then. Through those connections, we heal.
Dylan looks down at me and smiles. “You look beautiful,” he says as he kisses my cheek. “You ready?”
I nod and tell him I was born ready. Not exactly the truth, but it’s not a lie either. We make our first steps down the makeshift aisle in Taven’s backyard, the home we now share together. I’ve opened my own practice just down the street in town, and I like the quiet of our secluded home, with plenty of space for our future kids to roam around one day. We plan on having more little Carlisle cuties. For now though, I’m happy to be starting with just the one.
We walk down and I see old friends and new, some colleagues and some faces that I don’t recognize. I think they are friends of Lynda and Bill’s, and I loved seeing how excited Taven’s mom was to be inviting people from her world to show off her son and his new bride. I have a feeling it’s part of her love of control, but I have a better understanding of why she is the way she is. I can respect it .
When Dylan passes me off to Taven before taking his place on the groomsmen side, I smile at my handsome soon-to-be husband, eyes tearing up as he sucks in a deep breath. He’s giving me that look that I love. The one that tells me I’m the woman of his dreams, like he can’t believe I’m real. That I chose him.
I’m not sure he’ll ever quite understand that from the moment I saw him at that first concert so many years ago, he was it for me.
In the reception that follows , under the protection of a white tent and a gentle breeze that offers reprieve from the June heat, Melissa stands up to give her toast. Taven reaches over to squeeze my hand, then reaches in his suit jacket to pull out a small pack of tissues, just in case. I laugh and pull one out, emotional already and my best friend hasn’t even said a thing. Taven takes the tissue from me, dabbing at my eyes and then pushing a glass of water over to me.
Melissa stands up tall, ever the performer in front of a crowd. Her cream-colored dress clings to her curves, making her look like the star that she is. Dark curls spill down her back, and I can’t help but look over to Dylan to see if he has any kind of reaction to her. I still hold out hope for the two of them being together one day. The football star and the actress, how appropriate. His face is unreadable, but when the guy next to him reaches over to whisper something in his ear, and Dylan doesn’t even acknowledge him, I have a feeling my brother might be just the tiniest bit smitten.
Melissa clears her throat, mic in hand, and the guests quiet. “You should all know that I’m Melissa Belle, and I was Desiree’s first crush, and she mine,” she says, and the crowd politely laughs.
“It’s true!” I yell out.
“See?” she says with a winning grin. “Taven, watch out. Your wife always has a backup.”
“Not on my life,” he shouts back .
Melissa’s face turns serious, and she raises the mic once again. “I don’t know about you all, but I’m not always the easiest of people to be around. I can be loud, I can speak my mind when no one asks, I can have a temper. In fact, Desiree and I first became friends after she watched me punch a kid that was hurling insults at me. And my darling Desiree called me her hero. Meanwhile, my hand was sore, and I was worried that I just embarrassed myself in front of this cute girl that I had secretly been desperately hoping to make my friend, because Desiree always seemed so cool and unaffected by everything. But damn, my temper got me again.” I glance over at Dylan, and see him grinning and nodding his head. “Yet Desiree called me her hero, and that was that.
“Truth be told, it was Desiree that became mine. As I got to know her, I learned that she had this unique ability to do the right thing, even if it was keeping her mouth shut on my violence.” I laugh and dab at a tear that manages to escape. “I loved the way she’d have these wildly deep conversations with me about life and what gives it meaning, then in the next breath, say she was craving ice cream. Desiree is the type of person to write me a sweet card, just because. Then dare me to do something wild, just so she could watch, and I’d fall for it every time,” she laughs. “Some of those dares I’ll just go ahead and keep to myself.”
She shifts her weight from one foot to the other and sighs. Her voice holds emotion in it as she says, “Desiree has an incredible ability to love. It’s one of her best qualities, and she can hold onto love through thick and thin, something that’s not easy to do. She’s stood by me when I was making terrible decisions, of which there were many,” she laughs. “I’ve also watched her stand by Taven over the years when he’s…” she trails off, then tilts her head side-to-side with a mischievous smile, debating how to say it, I imagine.
Taven fills it in for her. “Just say it, Mel! When I was a terrible drunk,” he laughs, and our friends and loved ones laugh too, all well aware of his road to sobriety .
Melissa smiles. “Alright, fine. You heard it from him, not me.
“But the real reason I even bring that up is because of something so important, something we could all learn from looking at this couple before us here today. Because one of the most admirable qualities about Desiree is how she also knew when to choose herself.” I watch as she slowly nods, letting that last statement settle. The space is quiet, hanging on her words. “Desiree once had to make the difficult decision to walk away from Taven, a man I know she fiercely loved, but realized he needed to learn how to love himself as well. And that could not have been easy.”
I hear Taven quietly laugh beside me. “Oh shit, she’s good,” he says, and I see him do a few rapid blinks, before giving me a kiss on the cheek. “Smart woman,” he whispers to me.
I lay my head on his shoulder and wait for Melissa to continue. “That takes real courage to do that, which makes her my hero.”
She looks over to my husband now— my husband! —and addresses him. “Taven. Despite me dragging you through the mud a little right now?—”
“It’s alright, I can handle it,” he calls out. I look over to Lynda, wondering how she’s liking this hanging-out-the-laundry toast, but her mouth is curved up into a small smile.
“You can handle a lot,” Melissa agrees. “You’ve been a hero right back to Desiree in so many ways. I’ve seen you push her out of her comfort zone. I’ve seen you help her break a couple rules now and then. I’ve seen you protect her from things that would hurt her, and seen you help her heal when she was temporarily bruised or broken. Last year when Desiree was struck by lightning—did you all realize that?” she asks everyone. “Yeah. This girl was actually struck by lightning!”
“Indirectly!” I clarify.
“Potato, pot-ah-to, it still counts,” she says. “But when that happened, Taven dropped everything to scoop her up, insisting that when she was released from the hospital, he’d take her back to his place, adamant that he was going to be the one to take care of her. And I actually let him, because that’s the kind of guy he is.” She looks over to him. “I have no doubt you’d go to hell and back just to keep our girl safe and happy, just as she deserves. And I know you’ll continue being that hero to the baby you guys will soon be welcoming. That baby doesn’t even know how lucky he or she is to have the two best goddamn superheroes as parents in the world.
“So, raise a glass,” she says, and Taven and I raise our sparkling waters. “To the childhood sweethearts turned husband and wife. The heroes every one of us are lucky to have in our lives. Here’s to less lightning strikes and crazy drama in the years to come. Salut!”
“Hear hear, salut!” Taven says beside me as I giggle my way through wiping my tears.
I watch as Dylan rises to a stand when Melissa passes his table, heading to me, but my brother stops her. He gives her a kiss on the cheek and whispers something in her ear. She throws her head back and laughs. I can’t help but watch the exchange with a new hope blooming in my chest. This one for them.
I look down at my arm, the graceful black lettering of my “times ten” tattoo, and I say a silent prayer of gratitude to my mom. I wish she was here today, of course, but I’m thankful to have a new mother figure officially in my life. A woman I never even realized had meant more to my mom than I could ever understand. A sister. A friend. A keeper of promises and—as Taven and I suspect—shared secrets that we’ll never be privy to. Lynda’s a good step-in, and I’m learning to love her, just like my mom would want me to.
I think about the letter I read from my mom earlier today. Given to me right before her death, she instructed me to read it the morning of my future wedding day, if I had one. I was with Parker back then, the surgeon my mom was thrilled to have by my side. I had worried her letter would be referring to him, but thankfully, it wasn’t .
Instead, she told me if there was any ounce of doubt in my mind about whether or not to take this plunge, to marry this man, that I shouldn’t do it. That I could be a runaway bride, and she’d figure out how to take care of the rest from wherever she’d be. I had laughed and showed it to Taven, watching him put on his suit jacket and giving it a quick tug. “See? Even your mom knew Parker wasn’t it for you,” he grins. “Think she was hoping it’d be me?”
I shrugged, looking down at her handwriting. “I like to think so.”
I reach for my purse now and pull out the letter, reading the rest of it yet again while Melissa is still busy flirting with my brother. I skim down to the part I’m looking for.
You have your whole life ahead of you, and there will be countless decisions to make. Some you’ll make the right way, some the wrong way, and some you’ll have to live with the questions of what might have happened if you had done things differently.
I’ve always admired your ability to face things, Desiree. I’ve always been more of a hand-waver, content to ignore while telling myself I’d let be what will be. In some ways that can be good, in other ways, not so much. So if there’s one thing I want for you, it’s to make this choice wisely. A husband is not just a security blanket you hope to be able to hide under when needed. He’s not a convenient friend or even a guaranteed lover.
Instead, a husband needs to be a perfectly imperfect human, just as you are, and completely willing to understand and acknowledge his own weaknesses, right along with his strengths. When a person can do that, they can live with integrity and authenticity, free from an internal hunger to self-serve. A self-aware man has the emotional intelligence to approach life with enthusiasm, honesty, and curiosity, even when something is not going his way. That’s the key, that’s the real test of character. When someone has this, they approach relationships with a faith and courage that allows them to be vulnerable, which is the only way to make truly meaningful connections.
So. If there is any doubt in your mind in your chosen husband’s ability to do this, then run, my darling. Run as fast as you can, because you are worth so much more than “good enough.”
Don’t sacrifice your ultimate peace and happiness just because. Even if you never find the right man, it doesn’t matter. Because as I lie here now, it’s not your father I’m thinking about the most. It’s my children, and it’s the other women I’ve had in my life that I’ll be missing. That’s what I’m most thankful for. That’s what’s worth grieving.
If you read this and decide the man you’ve chosen does exhibit all these qualities that I insist you have, well then, happy wedding day, my darling. May you live out many years together. Have children, or don’t. Buy a beautiful home, or not. Travel, or stay put, dream big or dream small, whatever is right for you.
As long as you’re courageously loving yourself and living true to yourself, that’s all that matters.
P.S—If you ever decide to have children, and you have a girl, would you consider giving her Hope as a middle name?
You should know that once upon a time, it was my first name.
Love always, Mom
Taven looks at me holding my letter. I point out the line at the end and his eyes scan her words. “Think she’d be upset to know we’re having a boy?” he asks.
“Nah,” I say. “She’d get over it. The hand-waver, never letting anything get to her.”
He places his palm on my belly and tells me we should keep trying for a girl. That he’s committed to however many kids it takes until we can give my mom her dying wish, even if that means having ten.
I laugh and put my hand on his. I tell him thank you for being a good sport, but that I want to concentrate on the one we’re having, feeling lucky that I get even one chance to become someone’s mom. “How many times can lightning strike in one person’s lifetime?” I ask, looking up at him.
Taven smiles and replies, “Dazzle.” He pushes a strand of hair away from my face, dragging his touch down my cheek. “Every single day with you is like lightning. ”
The End