Epilogue 2
Fairview was bustling with wedding guests, and I couldn’t wipe the goofy grin off my face as Cassandra fussed with my boutonnière.
My brother was getting married to his soulmate today, and I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.
“You nervous?” Cass asked. Her crimson lips curled as she moved on from the boutonnière to fluff the bow tie on my tux.
We were standing in the living room while guests milled about, waiting for the ceremony to start, and I was suddenly brought back to the day I stood here, moments before marrying my own soulmate.
“Not nearly as nervous as I was for our wedding,” I joked, and she raised a surprised eyebrow.
“You were nervous?” she asked, looking surprised. She was beautiful as ever, in a floral Gucci dress that flowed down to her ankles. The dress was covered in a bright lily print, making her look like a whimsical garden fairy.
“I almost puked trying to give you that ring. I thought you were going to fucking hate it,” I admitted, and her brows pinched together in confusion.
“I could never hate anything you give to me, Theo. I want it all,” she said softly, glancing down at the blood red stone she religiously wore with pride on her ring finger.
“Well, I know that now, baby girl. At the time, I thought the whole thing was fake for you.”
Her frown deepened. “You thought it was fake for me, and you still wrote those vows?”
I chuckled, leaning forward to brush a kiss on her cheek, being careful not to smudge her makeup.
“As I said… It was never fake for me. I think I fell in love with you the second I saw you,” I purred. Taking her hand, I kissed her fingers, enjoying the way the ruby on her engagement ring sparkled in the afternoon sunlight.
“Even though I assaulted you?” she asked coyly, smiling up at me with those warm chocolate eyes that I still found myself getting lost in every time she turned them on me.
“Especially because you assaulted me. I think we’ve already established I’m a slut for pain, baby girl. The second you stuck your finger in my cut, I was a goner.”
Cass laughed, her eyes shining with mirth.
“Well, as long as you remember I’m the only one that’s allowed to hurt you, I suppose the masochism is one of your more manageable vices.”
She was right about that.
After we’d killed Samwell, I’d thought it would be smooth sailing, but it turns out that’s not how trauma works.
I’d had two more backslides with alcohol in the first few weeks following his death.
Both of them had happened after having a few casual drinks with friends.
The second one had been particularly bad, as I’d been slightly buzzed at a bar with Callum when a news segment about Samwell had popped up on the TV screens.
The reporter detailed that the police had found a series of emails between Samwell and his benefactors, informing them that he was fleeing to some indiscriminate location in an effort to evade authorities, and I immediately spiraled.
It killed me that all the survivors of his recent crimes would never know that he was dead and couldn’t ever hurt them again, and I’d been overcome with so much guilt and fury, I hadn’t known how to manage it.
After waking up in our condo again, unable to remember how I’d gotten there, I’d finally decided it was time for me to go to that meeting Jerry wanted me to attend with him.
I was also in weekly therapy now with the lady that Cass’s therapist had recommended.
While I quickly learned the AA meetings really weren’t for me, it turned out the therapy was.
It was rough at first, and I’d felt so awkward and ashamed just dumping all my trauma on some random stranger, but I kept going, and after a while, it really started to help.
Apparently, trauma is something people can recover from, even if it feels like an impossible mountain to climb at the beginning of the journey.
But the first step is getting all that darkness out of your head and into the world.
I was now eight months sober, and honestly, I didn’t miss alcohol at all. Not like I thought I would.
“You’re right about that,” I hummed. “I definitely have worse vices… but, thanks to you, I think the worst of it is behind me now.”
Being careful not to smudge her lipstick, I leaned in to kiss my wife, breathing in her warm, vanilla perfume.
“I’m so proud of you, baby,” she whispered, and I smiled.
“Thanks, princess. I’m proud of you, too.”
“Yooo, Theo!” I turned away from my wife to find Logan, Ronan, and Dakota striding toward us. They were all looking handsome in suits for the occasion, though Ronan seemed uncomfortable in his.
He kept messing with his tie, and Dakota batted at his hands, shaking his head with an amused smile.
“Leave it alone, you’re gonna fuck it all up.”
“This thing is suffocating me!” Ronan complained. He continued to tug at it in frustration, a grumpy scowl darkening his expression. “I don’t know why people insist on wearing this shit.”
“Relax, Shorty. You look hot.” Logan grinned, brushing an easy kiss across Ronan’s mouth, which only seemed to make him scowl harder.
“Whatever. I’m gonna go get a drink,” he muttered, but Dakota grabbed him and tugged him in for a kiss, too.
“Be good, it’s going to be a long night,” he scolded, and Ronan rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, yeah. I know,” he muttered, disappearing into the crowd, still tugging at his collar.
Dakota chuckled and turned to face me.
“Hey, Theo, how’s the gym?”
I beamed, feeling the excited flutter I always got whenever someone asked me about my pride and joy. “It’s fucking awesome, man. The kids are so great. They learn so quick… just a bunch of little lethal sponges.”
Logan smiled and took a sip of his beer. “It’s pretty fucking awesome that you’re teaching those kids to defend themselves, man. It’s admirable.”
I blushed, shrugging off the compliment, even though his words meant more to me than he probably knew.
My desire to help these kids learn self-defense came from some of the darkest moments of my life… But my therapist told me what I’d done with the gym was incredible. Not only was it healing for me, but I was helping other people potentially avoid finding themselves in a similar situation.
I was taking this awful, horrible thing that had happened to me, and turning it into something that helped people, and that felt powerful within its own right.
Just then, Callum exploded into the room, and we all turned in unison to find him barrelling through crowds of people to get to us.
“I’m getting maaaarrrieddd!!!!” he bellowed, slamming into me hard enough that I let out an abrupt ‘oof.’
Laughing, I wrapped an arm around his shoulders and roughly patted him on the bicep.
“Sure are, rock star, you excited?’
“Excited!? I feel like I’m going to fucking explode.” He jittered, rocking nervously on his heels.
“I miss Ryan. Have you seen him? I know I’m not supposed to see him until the ceremony, but I’m kind of freaking out a bit.”
Cal had slept at our place the night before, saying that Ryan wanted to keep it traditional and spend the first night apart, which I knew Cal hated.
He always got a little manic if he was separated from my brother for too long, which, as co-dependent as that was, still warmed my heart a little bit.
I understood.
I didn’t like being separated from Cass for too long either.
“Ugh, I can’t deal with him when he’s like this,” Cass complained, causing me to chuckle softly. “I’m going to go find Nolan. I think he and Tom are at the same table as us.” She leaned in and brushed a quick kiss on my lips before heading out into the kitchen to find our friends.
I stared at her ass as she left, biting my knuckle and imagining all the fucked up shit I was going to do to her when we got home later.
With Cal staying over the night before, we’d kept it PG-13, and I already felt like I was going through withdrawals after just one night without the taste of her on my tongue.
“Have you seen Voxy?” Cal was yammering nervously. “He’s supposed to come stand up there with me.”
“Uhh, yeah,” I said, pointing across the hall to the room Cal and Ryan usually used for viewings. “I saw him go in there with Naomi a few minutes ago.”
“Oh, thanks. I’m gonna go get him. I think we should head out there now. I don’t want to fuck everything up by being late or something.” He rubbed his hands nervously down his tuxedo jacket as he stalked out of the room to find Vox.
Logan and Dakota watched him go, both of them sporting amused smiles on their faces.
“Damn. Never thought I’d see that guy nervous about anything.”
I shrugged, unable to keep the grin off my own face.
“Something about weddings, man. Makes people anxious.”
“No doubt,” Logan agreed. I was just about to ask them what table they were at when Cal’s voice exploded through the entrance way of the funeral parlor.
My eyebrows shot up in concern. I couldn’t see him, but he sounded furious.
“Voxy! What the FUCK! That’s my fucking sister!” he snarled, and the blood drained from my face.
“Get your tongue out of her mouth! What the fuck is wrong with you!”
“Cal, wait! Let me explain–” Naomi’s voice floated down the hall as the entire house suddenly fell silent.
I glanced at Logan and Dakota, my eyes so wide they felt like they were going to pop out of my head.
“Oh shit,” I muttered.
Dakota’s hand had flown up to cover his mouth, and Logan’s eyes were just as wide as mine were.
“Oh shit is right…”
Ronan bounded into the room, a soda in hand and a wild smile on his face.
“Did you guys hear that?!” he chirped, and we all nodded at him dumbly, still stricken with shock at what we’d heard.
Ronan’s eyes were alight with an evil sort of mischief, and he took a swig of his soda, chuckling softly.
“This wedding just got a hell of a lot more interesting.” He grinned, and I scrubbed a hand down my face anxiously.
“Wait here. I’ll go see if I can diffuse whatever the fuck is going on in there,” I grumbled before setting off to hopefully stop Callum from murdering his best man minutes before he was supposed to say his vows.