And Blake, texting right now when my life is better than ever, better not so much as even try to talk to her. Because he doesn’t understand I would burn the whole world to protect Ruth from him. I would stand in front and take every bullet if it meant she could keep smiling that smile, keep tucking her hair behind her ear, keep breathing the same air I do.
My jaw clenches as I reread his text. There is no reason for him to bother me now. He’d better stay away from me, and especially from Ruth and Noah.
I’d die for her.
Without hesitation.
Without regret.
thirty-six
Epilogue
The Wedding
Prelude music softly flows through closed double doors, and my heart feels like it’s keeping time with it. I stand in front of a tall mirror in the tiny anteroom at the back of the chapel, smoothing the lace on my new dress. Trying to uphold traditions, the dress is my something new, and it’s more money than I’ve ever spent on anything that wasn’t a car or a house, but Bill insisted I needed my dream dress. It’s soft, elegant, with a neckline that makes me blush a little. But it made Bill’s eyes go wide in that quiet, reverent way that told me I’d chosen right. Even if the choice was more about me than him, I’m happy that he’s happy.
The air smells faintly of wood polish that only old churches seem to carry. Behind me, I hear the shuffle of shoes and the deep sigh I’d know anywhere. “Mom,” Noah says, his voice low. I turn around, and for a moment, he’s five again—standing there with his tie crooked and big beautiful blue eyes. But then he blinks, and there’s this grown man—my son—who is standing tall in a navy suit.
“You look…beautiful.” He steps forward, taking the spot next to me in the mirror.
“Careful,” I say, voice wobbling, despite my best efforts to stay calm. “You’ll make me cry before I even get down the aisle, and I just reapplied my mascara.”
He chuckles as his hands go into his pants pockets, and he rocks back on his heels as if he’s struggling not to fidget. “Are you ready for this?”
“Not yet,” I say, then glance down at the bouquet trembling slightly in my hands. “I’ve got everything except something borrowed.”
He frowns as his eyes pace my face. “What do you mean?”
“You know—something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.”
I lift the hem of my dress slightly. “The dress is new. The old is, well, my earrings. Your dad actually gave them to me thenight before our wedding as they matched my ring.” I swallow, the memory catching me off guard. “It feels right to wear them today. I know we promised each other forever, but it didn’t happen, and I know he would have loved Bill.”
Noah steps closer. His eyes soften, the way they always do when his dad comes up. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “He would’ve given Bill the third degree.”
I laugh through a tear. “At least that would’ve taken the pressure off you, and Bill can hold his own.”
Noah smirks, but then his gaze falls on the bouquet in my hands, and something shifts. “You’re missing blue too?”
“Oh, no, I’ve got that.” I turn slightly, showing him the little sapphire pin at the base of my bouquet. It’s shaped like a hockey puck, naturally. “Granite Ice forever.”
Noah pushes out a surprised laugh, but I catch a glisten in the corner of his eye when he says, “Of course.”
“But I still don’t have anything borrowed.” I look around the small room, as if it might magically appear. “Maybe it’s silly, but I feel like I need it. Do you have something I can carry down the aisle? A lucky penny or something?”
“Hang on,” he says, already moving toward the back door that leads to the vestibule. He disappears for all of ten seconds and comes back holding a single pink rose.
“I pulled this out of the altar arrangement. No one will notice if I return it in a few moments, and it solves your problem,” he says, grinning as he tucks it gently into my hair that’s pulled back into a bubble braid. “Now it’s borrowed.”
I blink fast, because if I don’t, I’m going to ruin my makeup. “You are—” My voice cracks, and I press a hand to his cheek. I’m still taken back by the way my fingers meet the rough cheek of a grown man who needs to shave. I don’t care how old he is, he will always be my little boy. My voice cracks when I say, “You are the best thing I ever did. Do you know that?”
He smiles, but it trembles at the edges. “Yeah, well. You did okay if you ask me.”
I take a deep breath, steadying myself. “I can’t believe we made it through this life together,” I whisper. “All the moves, the games, the late nights, the losses, and now, here we are.”
“Here we are,” he echoes, offering his arm right as the background prelude music ends. My heart literally stops as I know what’s next. His eyes grow wide as he waits with his arm out for me. “Are you ready, Mom?”
My throat feels too tight to speak, and the music swells louder. I don’t even risk speaking as I just take his arm, and we start toward the aisle together. The small crowd stands when the usher opens the back door.
