Epilogue
One Month Later
The wedding was everything they’d wanted: small, intimate, but full of love.
Just family and close friends gathered in their backyard, where Pastor Bradshaw married them in a ceremony full of promises they both made before each other, family, and God.
Blake wore a simple white dress that made Emon’s heart stop, and he wore a classic black tuxedo that could get a couple of babies out of Blake.
The day had been perfect, about as perfect as their time together.
No drama, just love and encouragement from those around her, especially Emon.
Looking at her now, Emon couldn’t help but think about the day that changed his life.
How God had led him to the wrong apartment but the right woman.
Every choice, every moment since then, had confirmed what his heart knew.
He’d been feeling blessed all day, waiting for the moment to put what he really felt into action. She was the one. His only. His forever.
Blake caught herself thinking about her father throughout the day, knowing he would’ve loved this, loved seeing his baby girl marry a man who cherished her the way Emon did.
A man who saw her completely and loved her anyway.
He would have happily given her away, trusting in Emon fully.
Because Emon was everything Soulja Bishop had taught his daughter to look for.
A provider, a protector, but most importantly, a man who’d let his woman shine and chase her dreams.
“Ready to get out of here yet?” Emon whispered in her ear as she smiled at the small crowd of family sitting down for dinner. They’d been known to leave a party early. They never gave a damn about choosing them. It was always them over everybody.
“We can’t leave our own reception. At least not yet.”
“Watch us. I got plans for you in that dress.”
“You have been eyeing me all day.”
“And? You my wife now. I’m supposed to.”
Blake smiled, thinking about how this man could still make her heart race with just a look. Some things never changed.
“Yeah, well, we at least need to make our announcement, and then we can get the hell out of here.” Emon nodded, appreciating her seeing things his way.
For dinner, they’d settled into a tent they’d set up outside. The string lights twinkled like stars above them, and white and light orange flowers adorning every corner. Blake squeezed Emon’s hand under the table. They’d planned this moment carefully.
“Before everybody leaves,” she stood, a champagne glass of ginger ale in hand, “we got one more thing to celebrate.”
The way ViceAnne’s eyes lit up told Blake she already knew. A mother’s intuition was something else.
“Our family’s about to get a little bigger, again,” Blake announced, looking at Jacques and his sisters, who she loved and would always be there for. She enjoyed watching joy spread across the faces of their loved ones.
“We’re pregnant,” she screamed. Brooks teared up. He’d been in his feelings all day about his sister. He’d deny it later, but he was wrong about Emon and appreciated how he’d come into his sister’s life, bringing value and not heartache.
Emon pulled his wife, his wife, closer, his hand resting protectively over her barely there baby bump.
From that bleeding stranger to this moment, they’d built something real.
Something that started with trust and grew into everything.
Through doubts and growth, celebrations and quiet moments, they’d chosen each other every day.
Life was perfect, they’d never give this up.