Epilogue
brANDON
NOVEMBER . . .
It only felt right.
The time. That hour when the sky is golden just before sunset.
The place. A field where flowers bloom into early fall and many picnics took place.
The couple. Autumn and I.
Ours wasn’t the fastest love story despite rumors saying otherwise.
We’re only months on the surface, a superficial marker for others to understand.
We’re not months. We’re years, lifetimes in the making.
Every event, memory, and chance we took put us on the path to get us here.
And now that we are, we’ll never let anything detour us again.
Our love story won’t always make sense to everyone.
For her, I was a sworn enemy for a long time.
For me, I was born to love her.
We’re the only ones who need to understand, and now that we’re on the same page, sharing our lives, we’re more aligned than ever.
And deep down, I like to think she was in love with me all those years and just couldn’t admit it. I am, scratch that, I was the most eligible bachelor for four counties. She says three, but the title clearly states four. Anyway, only one title matters to me now. Husband.
Tucker tried to warn me that I’d want to skip town on the wedding day, but those feelings are normal and temporary.
But he also made sure to mention that my truck has a full tank of gas and is parked in the driveway.
Nerves haven’t gotten the best of me, though.
The opposite has happened. I can’t wait to marry Autumn.
What do I have to fear by getting married?
Waking up every morning with someone who gives life meaning?
Having sex anytime we feel like it.
Eating dinner on the couch while watching movies together.
Seeing your best friend every day and getting to hang out all the time.
Having someone to confide in that always has your back.
Getting a text in the middle of a random Tuesday and knowing that’s code for sex and to get home fast.
I chuckle. I don’t know how we’ll endure such torture.
Sign me up. I’m all in.
So on a crisp fall day just before winter sets in, and the water lapping behind me as the musical guest, we’re doing just that, and starting our lives together sooner rather than later. We’ve waited long enough.
My heart is in my throat, and tears fill the corners of my eyes.
I’m not an overly emotional guy, but seeing the love of my life on the arm of her grandmother, dressed in a creamy-white dress with her hair pulled back on one side and a small bouquet in her hands, walking to marry me—luckiest guy in the world.
With the first heavy snowfall expected later tonight, we kept our wedding small, only immediate family and a few friends. We love our town and the community, but this is for us. Neither of us needed the pomp nor circumstance, so I am watching my bride walk down a makeshift aisle.
I kiss Dolly on the cheek before taking Autumn’s hands in mine.
It will be hard to speak over my heart wanting to choke me up, but all it takes is one look into those eyes that hold love and kindness and the future I want to share with her to know that angels do exist on earth. “You’re so beautiful.”
It’s cold, but there’s no shivering when we have each other to keep us warm.
“You look handsome, my love.” And when she turns to glance out into the cove where the sun is setting, I catch a preview of the stars before they come out.
The constellation of freckles that have become guideposts on the map of memorizing her body draw me in to want to kiss each and every one.
I don’t, but I wonder why this has to be done using someone else’s traditions.
Why can’t we be ourselves and love each other openly like we do at home?
While vows are exchanged, I reach over, holding her neck and running my thumb over them. She doesn’t shy away. My girl leans into it, giving me a smile—soft and sweet and full of the love that she shows me on a daily basis—that she surely knows is going to lead me to want to hold her.
So when it’s time to kiss, I bring her in and tip my head to the side, and kiss her with the love I’ve had for her my entire life. Our lips part, but we don’t go far, and I whisper, “I will always love you in this lifetime and the next, and forever after that.”
She runs her hands into my hair, and brings me to her this time, kissing me with her heart, soul, and all that she is. And when our lips unwillingly separate again this time, she says, “You made me whole again. I will spend my life making sure you always feel the same.”
And when we kiss again, we know we will always be forever.
We don’t need dancing.
Or fancy hotel ballrooms.
The Season house and their dining room were perfect for the occasion.
Sitting at one end of a long table of our guests, while my mom’s lasagna is passed around family-style, is exactly how we wanted to celebrate.
Great food, wine, and beer keep the spirits high.
And I get to sit next to my wife for the first time.
Life is good with laughter and toasts, and it’s the perfect soundtrack for our reception.
Rubbing my stomach, I lean over and say, “I’m stuffed.”
“Is that code for you want to get out of here so we can consummate our marriage?” Is this a trick question? I can’t tell with hope arching her brows while she’s only halfway through eating cake.
“Do you want it to mean we leave to consummate our marriage?” Holding my hands up in surrender. “I’m happy to do what my wifey wants. If you need me, I’ll have you in that truck before they realize we’re gone. What do you want?”
When she laughs, she leans her head on my shoulder, keeping her gaze on the loved ones before her. She lifts to kiss me on the lips, and whispers, “I’d rather show you.”