I hold out my hand to him, but he pulls me in for a hug.
“Welcome to the family, Silas.”
EPILOGUE
SEVEN MONTHS LATER
BROOKE
Oklahoma sunsets don’t believein subtlety.
They show up loud and unapologetic, stretching across the sky in streaks of gold and fire reds and purple, like they’re daring you to pretend this moment isn’t important.
Like they know this is our second wedding and it deserves a little drama.
The ceremony is set up in an open field, where an arbor is decorated in a mixture of white flowers and drapes, giving it an elegant but rustic feel.
It’s perfect in the most Oklahoma way possible.
Simple. Honest. Unpretentious.
“You ready for this, baby girl?” My dad tucks my arm in his and kisses the top of my head.
“So ready.” I look up at my dad’s face, my smile wide.
His eyes are a little glassy, and I can see his composure slipping. “You’re so beautiful.”
“Dad, don’t make me cry. I actually made up my face for this.” I laugh lightly.
He sniffs and pulls out a white hankie. “I’m so proud of the woman you’re becoming. And I know I was hesitant about you and Silas, but I think you bring out the best in each other. You make each other better. And I’m not sure I could have picked a better man for my little girl. I wish you both a long, happy, and healthy marriage.”
I take the hankie and dab my eyes because of course I’m crying now. “Thank you, Dad. I love you.” I sniff. “I know we did this a little … unconventionally, but he makes me so happy, and I hope I make him just as happy.”
“Oh, sweetheart, that boy can’t keep his hands or eyes off of you. He glows whenever you’re around. I think it’s safe to say he’s a very happy and lucky man.” He kisses my cheek this time and wipes a rogue tear.
I suck in a deep breath and tilt my head back to stave off more tears threatening to fall. “Okay.” I exhale. “I’m ready. Take me to my husband.”
Instead of answering, the music starts, and we make our way to the aisle around the guest chairs.
I can see Silas as I turn the corner. Waiting. Looking devastatingly handsome.
Jacket off. Sleeves rolled. Tie loose, like he made it halfway through tying it and decided that was good enough. His cowboy boots peek out from his pants. Buffed and shined.
This man faces roaring stadiums, last-second drives, and entire offensive lines hell-bent on breaking him in half. He’s calm under pressure. Focused. Built for chaos.
But the second he sees me?
His jaw tightens. His shoulders tense. His hands curl into fists at his sides, like he needs to ground himself.
I’ve never loved anything or anyone more.
I start walking toward him, the prairie stretching wide around us, the wind tugging at my dress and hair, like it wants in on the moment. Folding chairs creak as people shift. Friends smile knowingly. Family leans forward.
Someone near the back mutters, “About damn time. I’m ready to party.” Probably a Griffith.
Charlie is already waiting as my matron of honor, and Silas’s oldest brother, Keith, stands next to him.
This might not be our first time promising forever. But it is the first time we’re doing it without illusions.
