Epilogue
HUDSON
Valentine’s Day
I jerk the tie off for the third time, my hands refusing to quit shaking. I curse, closing my eyes and filling my lungs deeply, slowly.
“For fuck’s sake, Wilder,” I whisper to myself.
Violet’s already my wife. We’ve already stood in front of each other and said vows. There’s no reason for me to feel jitters skittering up and down my back, choking my airway.
I’m full of shit.
This is nothing like the first time at that courthouse back in December.
This time, every intimate detail was planned together with our girls in mind.
Our girls. Violet was born to be a mother.
I’m in awe of my beautiful wife every day, but especially those quiet moments where she and the girls, individually or all together, share special moments.
The judge moved quickly, and three weeks after CPS dropped off my daughters for good, it became official.
I was given sole custody of all three. Kristy is currently getting the rehabilitation she needs, but lost her rights after what they found.
How she reacted and handled the entire case afterward got her more severe punishment and a stained record.
When she is sober for an extended period of time, the judge will allow sporadic supervised visits. Only because our daughters, deep down, in their own complicated way, still love their mother. I will give them that.
Thankfully, they don’t lack a mother’s love.
A light shines brightly in each of them as I’ve never seen since Vi stepped fully into the role as their step-mom.
They adore her with all their hearts, and the way her eyes can’t hide the fierce love she has for them, for all of us, humbles me every day.
Opening my eyes, I stare in the mirror and calmly try to tie this stupid gray tie again.
I know every detail for our wedding except for one, the dress.
She refused to let me know anything about it.
I teased and placed my guesses, but she’d just throw over her shoulder that cheeky smile that took everything in me not to do something about…
like throw her over my shoulder and bend her over the side of our bed.
Sex with three little ones full time at home has been a challenge, to say the least, but every secret spot with my hand over her mouth gets my love wetter, tighter…
Shit. “Don’t you fucking dare,” I growl down at my pants, willing the swell to ease before I walk out and embarrass myself.
Three soft knocks.
I turn, facing the door as it cracks open and a familiar face pokes through.
I’m stunned, staring at a woman I haven’t seen in person in more years than I care to count. “Ma?” I choke.
Her black hair is streaked with silver now. The lines around her eyes are more pronounced, but my mother looks elegant and strong.
“Hud, baby,” she whispers, walking in, stunned, gazing up and down my frame. “Oh my God,” she sobs, covering her mouth.
I charge toward her and take her in my arms.
Holy hell. I forgot what this felt like. A hug from my own mother. I forgot that even at my age, I’m never too old to need this.
“Don’t cry,” I quietly speak into the top of her head, even though my own emotions threaten to spill over.
Pulling back, she smiles up through the tears. “Look how handsome you look.”
I chuckle, half sob, “Ma.”
“That stunning wife of yours, she wouldn’t rest until I managed my schedule to be here this week.”
I stare at the woman who worked tirelessly at three jobs, never complained, even when I saw the exhaustion that clung to her bones, the woman I grew up loving immensely, but kept at a distance the moment I joined the MC.
Of course, my wife planned this. That gorgeous little minx.
“Sneaky,” my voice is husky with emotion. “I’m sorry. I should’ve been the one to offer–”
“Shh,” she shakes her head. “I understand you chose a path you felt was what you needed. I didn’t like it.
I feared for you every day. But as you’ll learn more with each day your beautiful little angels grow, as a parent, you have to allow them to live their own lives and figure things out.
We can steer them the best we can, but in the end, it’s their journey to make.
Just gotta always be there when they come back home. ”
I wiped the rogue tear from my cheek. “I love you. I wanted to protect you from–”
She caresses my cheek. “I know, baby. I know. I wish I could’ve been in the girls' lives, but you had to allow that at your own pace. And theirs.”
Guilt gnaws and twists my organs. When Silvie was born, I was too deep in the MC.
I left home behind, and eventually, when things got ugly there, I couldn’t face her.
I kept tabs from a distance. Eventually, when investments started paying off, I bought her a home.
On occasion, we talked briefly on the phone.
I’ve gotten so used to not reaching out and making her a part of our lives, I just shrugged off Violet’s questions about bringing my mother over for the wedding.
But this has all been a new beginning. It’s time my mother knew her granddaughters, and our girls know the love of their grandmother, along with their new step-grandfather. Almost two months sober, Violet’s dad is spoiling our girls every chance he gets.
“Thank you,” I grunt. “For everything. I love you and I’m really glad you’re here.”
Smiling wide, my mother hugs me. “Me too, Hud, baby. Me too. Forever my little boy.”
Overwhelmed, I stand still gathering my shit as my mother insists on tying the gray tie that matches the suit.
“Walk me down the aisle to wait for my bride?” I ask when we’re ready.
Her brown eyes shine with love, pride, and tears. “My greatest honor today.”
I hook her delicate fingers around my forearm, and we leave the small shed I converted for today while Vi and the girls are getting ready in the guesthouse.
The walk is about fifteen minutes from here.
Vi will be driven, but I wanted to walk.
Take in this property and town, I have made a home for my family.
Ma and I catch up, and the pang from keeping her at a distance still stings, but her eternal love as a mother soothes some of the ache.
There’s a plateau where two tall evergreens stand, and in between, an opening with a view of large, snowcapped mountains.
The ground is dry, but the air still holds that bite of late winter.
Grayson, my boss, saw me weeks ago carting scrap wood and branches one night after work, and was curious.
I told him I was building an arch for my wedding, and he offered to help.
No further questions, just grabbed materials and huffed it onto the bed of my truck with me.
That evening, there was a silent understanding that connected us.
I couldn’t even tell you what. But, from that day forth, he went from becoming not just my boss, but a friend.
I hadn’t really had one of those in a long time.
I’ve kept myself so locked away, my only purpose and focus was getting my girls back.
Violet encouraged this, of course, with utter glee.
My boss’s brother was her best friend’s guy, so I saw what those two were plotting.
It’s simple, our wedding today. Intimate. Just us, the bride and groom, the girls, Ivy, her guy, Nash Hunter, Grayson and his girl with the striking red hair who used to live in the city, Vi’s dad…and now, my mom.
I text Violet.
Hudson: Hey Goldie. Someone’s been busy plotting, I see.
Two seconds later, she’s already responding.
Goldie: What ever do you mean?
Smiling, I have to hold myself back from marching to the guesthouse and stealing her away to our honeymoon already.
Hudson: I love you. No words are sufficient.
Goldie: You happy?
Hudson: More than I deserve, I might explode from it.
Goldie: We deserve all the happiness. I can’t wait to see you.
Hudson: Might want to send the girls over first. Gotta introduce them to their grandma.
My chest is heavy, wondering if the girls won’t be happy. Will they be uncomfortable, needing to adjust to this new family member? Will their reaction hurt my mother?
Goldie: I hear you thinking over there. Remember that night we showed them a picture and told them stories about how brave and strong your mom was and still is? I knew they’d come face-to-face with her today. And they’re going to love her.
I chuckle, shaking my head.
Hudson: You never cease to amaze me, Goldie. Hurry up so I can remarry you.
She sends a laughing and kissing emoji.
Goldie: Ivy’s driving them over. See you soon, Husband.
Ten minutes later, all worries evaporate as the girls spot Ma immediately. I know my wife prepared them beforehand. Lucy squeals, “Gran-gran!” as all three hurry to run into my mother’s arms. Her face is astonished, but bleeds immediately to maternal love as she envelopes my daughters in her arms.
Damn tears.
I harshly rub my eyes, begging the emotions to calm the fuck down, then clear my throat.
I’m in awe watching them create an instant bond, and I must have stood watching longer than I thought because music begins to softly play from the cello player. I straighten up and face the aisle. My breath stutters as my heart stops.
The wind blows lightly her veil, hooked in her intricate updo of braids, no doubt Angie had a hand in doing.
She’s wearing her golden hair longer now.
Soft, curled tendrils dance around her angelic face on this Valentine’s Day afternoon.
I didn’t want to wait long to have our proper wedding with our entire family, as one.
She joked next Valentine’s. I convinced her this coming February in ways we both thoroughly enjoyed that night.
Her off-white dress hugs her generous curves perfectly. Long lace sleeves, shoulders bare for my lips, and a long train follows behind as her father walks her down to me. I get to be that enchanting, loving, strong, smart, and amazing woman’s husband. How the hell did I get this lucky?