She smiles up at me with tears in her eyes.
“Wow. That’s going to be hard to top,” she murmurs.
“You’ve got this, honey.”
She looks up at me with those eyes I’ve never been able to lie to, and when she speaks, it’s soft. But every word hits me like a storm wrapped in sunlight.
“You didn’t say ‘I love you’ the first time I needed to hear it. But you showed up the moment it really mattered. You let me walk away. Not because you didn’t care, but because you didn’t know how to hold on yet. And still, somehow… I knew you would find your way back.” She smiles. “I loved you when you were impossible. And I loved you even when I hated you a little. But ittook me leaving to see just how much I needed to come back to this life. To this love. To you.”
Someone sniffles, and, god, I know the feeling.
She continues.
“You are the most stubborn, infuriating, soft-hearted man I’ve ever known. You build fences like a damn pro and break them down just as easily. Especially the ones around your heart. And now that I know what’s inside that heart I’m never letting go of it.” A tear rolls down her cheek. “I promise to forgive you when you mess up. To laugh with you when we’re exhausted and covered in spit-up. To love you through every storm, every drought, and every miracle we get to raise. You are my best friend. And I choose you, Liam Stone, again and again and again.”
She smiles through tears, and I’m wrecked. And when the officiant says you may now kiss the bride, I do without hesitation, without fear. Because this time? I know exactly what I have to lose. And I’ll never take her for granted again.
EPILOGUE # 2
Will
Liam and Olive’s reception is at my bar, and it’s packed to the rafters. Practically the whole damn town showed up and for once, I don’t even mind the crowd. The place is lit up soft, string lights casting a warm glow over old wood and full hearts. Mason jars clink, boots scuff the floor, laughter spills like whiskey.
But I’m not drinking it in.
I’m scanning the room. Again.
Not for trouble.
Forher.
Liam and Olive are dancing like there’s nobody else in the room. They move like they’ve waited years for this moment. Hell, maybe they have. Sam and Charlie join them, both of them grinning like fools, and the whole damn floor swells with happiness.
Still, my gaze keeps drifting.
And then I spot her.
She’s standing along the edge of the wall, one hand curled around a lemonade, her dress soft and summery, her eyeslocked on the dance floor but she’s not really watching. Not with her eyes, anyway. There’s something wistful there. Like she’s remembering something she never got to have. Or maybe something she let go of too soon.
I’m moving before I can stop myself.
“Hey,” I say, bumping my shoulder gently against hers.
She startles slightly, then blinks up at me with that half-smile that’s always a little guarded.
“Phern?”
“Sorry,” she says, shaking her head. “Got lost in my thoughts.” She pauses, then nods toward the room. “You did a good job decorating the bar.”
Her voice is light, but there’s something under it, like maybe she’s been putting on an act all night.
I glance at her, and my mouth tilts.
“You make it sound like I hung every strand of lights myself.”
“Well, didn’t you?”
“Maybe,” I shrug. “Doesn’t matter. Still didn’t get your attention until now.”
