Epilogue 1 - Elliot
Standing at the altar beneath a sprawling canopy of white wisteria and twinkling fairy lights, I couldn’t stop fidgeting with my cufflinks.
Only this time, I wasn’t nervous. I wasn’t looking for anyone’s approval, and I certainly wasn’t trying to convince myself I didn’t need the woman walking toward me.
I just needed her to get down this aisle before my heart burst right out of my chest.
The vineyard was intimate, and bathed in the soft, honeyed glow of the late afternoon sun.
It was the land Alexander, Oliver, and I had invested in together, a venture that had bloomed into something far greater than business.
Surrounding us were only the people who truly mattered: my brothers and their loved ones, Oliver and his parents, Alexander, and the small circle of allies who had stood by us through the storm.
When my parents had attempted to slide back into my life the moment the press caught wind of my engagement to the Montgomery heir, Harper hadn’t even let them reach my orbit.
She’d stepped in with that lethal Montgomery authority and shut them down permanently.
For the first time in my life, I felt completely protected.
That contented feeling, of this is how it should be.
In the months leading up to today, our lives had shifted into a rhythm I wouldn’t trade for the world.
My penthouse was long gone, sold to the highest bidder without a single regret.
In its place was a brick-and-stone house we’d found together on a quiet, tree-lined street in Chicago.
A home filled with sunlight, soft rugs, my suit jackets draped over her chairs, and her books stacked on my nightstand.
And then there was Sophie’s Will.
We’d spent months laying the groundwork for the foundation.
The name had come to us one night while reading through Will’s journals by the fire.
It was a tribute to both of the people the Montgomerys had lost; a nod to Sophie’s ferocious fight to protect her children, and to Will’s protective heart.
Through independent media reviews, journalism ethics scholarships, and legal defense funds for victims of press harassment, Sophie’s Will was already beginning to reshape the landscape.
Stepping down as CEO of Northwell Holdings to run it alongside Harper was the single best decision I’d ever made.
A soft acoustic guitar chord hummed through the quiet air, and the entire world narrowed to a single point.
Harper.
My throat tightened so fast I could barely breathe.
She looked like a dream, a vision of pure light moving toward me.
Her dress was a delicate off-the-shoulder lace that hugged every curve I’d spent countless nights worshipping, trailing into a soft train that brushed over the stone path.
Her golden-blonde curls were pinned back loosely, framing a face flushed with soft color, her blue eyes sparkling with a warmth that was entirely mine.
The guarded "Harper Lane" mask was gone forever. This was Harper. My Harper.
The ceremony passed in a surreal blur. I barely heard the officiant’s words, barely felt the breeze. My entire universe was bound by the warmth of her hand in mine, the tremble in her fingers, and the silent vows passing between us.
"...and now," the officiant’s voice broke through my daze, resonating across the quiet vineyard, "it is my absolute honor to present to you for the very first time... Mr. and Mrs. Elliot and Harper Montgomery."
A sudden, stunned hush fell over the crowd.
We hadn’t told a single soul. It was a choice we had made privately, a decision to take her name, to carry forward the Montgomery line for the lives lost, for Sophie and Will, and for the future children we would bring into a family built on love instead of legacy.
A new generation of Montgomerys, free from toxic traditions, starting fresh right here.
I looked out at our guests. Rowan’s jaw dropped slightly before a rare, genuine smile broke across his face. Lucy gasped, and Caleb let out a low laugh, shaking his head.
Then my eyes landed on Alexander. The formidable titan of industry was openly crying. Tears tracked down his cheeks as he stared at us, his hand pressed over his heart.
Harper squeezed my fingers, and as we took our first steps down the aisle as husband and wife, we stopped right in front of her father.
Alexander reached out, his hands trembling as he took both of ours. "My angel…" he choked out, looking between us with unbridled emotion.
Harper smiled, her voice thick with happy tears as she leaned in. "It was Elliot's idea, Dad."
Alexander looked at me, the traces of lingering grief in his eyes replaced by profound, overwhelming gratitude. He stepped forward, pulling me into a fierce, bone-crushing hug.
"Thank you," Alexander whispered in my ear, his voice breaking. "My son."
The words settled deep into the hollow spaces of my chest, healing wounds I had carried since childhood.
As the sun dipped beneath the horizon, the vineyard transformed into a fairyland of string lights, soft laughter, and clinking glasses. Wine flowed, music echoed through the rows of grapevines, and the night stretched out endlessly.
I pulled Harper toward the edge of the dance floor, wrapping my arms tightly around her waist. She rested her chin against my chest, her wedding ring glittering under the lights, her body pressed flush against mine.
"So, Mr. Montgomery," she murmured, a wicked, playful tilt to her lips as her nails lightly scratched the nape of my neck. "How does it feel to be officially off the market?"
I dropped my head, my lips brushing the sensitive shell of her ear, and lowered my voice to a gravelly whisper.
"It feels brilliant, baby. Though if you keep moving your hips against me like that under this dress, I’m going to drag my wife into the wine cellar and show her exactly what I learned about logistics in the front seat of my SUV. "
Harper let out a loud laugh masked by a gasp, her cheeks flushing a delicious pink as she swatted my chest. "Elliot! My father is standing twenty feet away!"
I chuckled, pulling her closer until there wasn't a whisper of air between us, my hand resting possessively on the curve of her hip. "You love my brand of crazy, Mrs. Montgomery."
She looked up at me, her blue eyes shining with everything we’d fought for, everything we’d built, and everything waiting for us. "I do," she whispered softly, her hand pressing over my heart. "I really, really do."
Looking around at our family, holding the woman who had rewritten my entire world, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that life would never get better than this.