It amazes me what she’s been through in her life and how she’s still come out on the other side as such a beautiful, kind, loving person. Despite all the tragedy, she put herself through college and chose a profession meant to make the world better. She’s literally brilliant.
She had the option to wait until the bigger graduation ceremony in December, like most students who finish in the summer semester do, but she didn’t want to wait. She said she didn’t need a big ceremony—just one with the people she loves. She wanted to walk across the stage, grab her diploma, and start her professional life.
When they call her name, Tessa Marlowe, she steps forward in her emerald-green cap and gown and walks across the stage. I can’t wait for the day she’s addressed as Tessa Wright, but fornow, just knowing she wears the promise of our forever on her finger is enough.
Her cheering section immediately erupts, hooting and hollering, standing and clapping without restraint. Tears prick at Joyce’s eyes as she applauds enthusiastically, with Bob’s arm wrapped around her shoulders. Layla screams so loud she’s practically hoarse, and Iris whistles through her fingers like she’s at a hockey game.
My chest tightens at the sight of all these people showing up for her, celebrating her. She deserves this. She deserves every bit of love and support in this room.
When I let myself think about everything she’s endured, it makes me sad, so I try not to linger there. Tessa doesn’t want me to. She says everything she’s been through led her here, and she can’t imagine having a life happier than the one she’s living now.
Still, I can’t help wondering about her biological family—the ones who couldn’t keep her when she was a baby. I wonder if they think about her. I wonder who they are, or if they’re even alive anymore.
Tessa says maybe someday she’ll look into it, see if there’s anyone to find. But right now, she just wants to live in the happiness she’s built.
And I don’t blame her at all.
She reaches the end of the stage and stops, turning to face the crowd. The diploma is clutched proudly against her chest, and even from here, I can see her hands trembling slightly. Then her eyes find mine in the audience, and everything else falls away.
Her smile widens, radiant and genuine, and I see it all at that moment—the girl who survived foster care, the woman who escaped abuse, the graduate who refused to let her past define her future. Pride swells in my chest so intensely it almost hurts.
I mouth the words, “I’m so proud of you.”
Her eyes glisten with unshed tears, and she mouths back, “I love you.”
My throat tightens, and I have to blink back my own emotion.
She gives a small wave to the crowd—toourcrowd—and then walks off the stage, her emerald-green gown swishing behind her.
The second the ceremony ends, and the graduates are dismissed, chaos erupts. Everyone rushes toward the front of the auditorium where the graduates file out, diplomas in hand and caps askew.
I spot Tessa immediately—she’s already been ambushed by Joyce, who’s pulled her into a bone-crushing hug while openly crying. Bob is patting her shoulder, his own eyes suspiciously shiny. Layla is jumping up and down beside them, waiting her turn.
I hang back for a moment, letting them have their time with her. They’ve earned it. They were there for her long before I was.
But then Tessa looks up over Joyce’s shoulder, her eyes searching the crowd until they land on me. Her face lights up, and she gently extracts herself from Joyce’s embrace.
She weaves through the crowd, clutching her diploma, her cap slightly crooked on her head. The moment she reaches me, I pull her into my arms and crush my mouth to hers.
She kisses me back, her free hand fisting in my shirt, and I pour everything I can’t say into it.
When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard. “Congratulations, baby,” I murmur against her forehead. “You did it.”
We take loads of pictures, making sure to snag all the different combos of people with Tessa.
When we’re finished, Bash’s voice booms across the crowd. “All right, people! Celebration time! Everyone to the Firehouse! We’re celebrating our girl Tessa!”
A cheer goes up from the Cranes contingent, and suddenly we’re being swept along by the crowd—teammates clapping me on the back, their wives hugging Tessa, everyone talking over each other in excitement.
“Did you seriously plan a party?” Tessa asks me, her eyes wide.
“Did you really think we wouldn’t?” Penny appears beside us, grinning. “Come on, graduate. If this group goes all out on anything, it’s parties.”
As we make our way to the cars, Tessa’s hand finds mine, lacing our fingers together. She looks up at me, her emerald cap still slightly crooked, her diploma clutched in her other hand, and she’s never looked more beautiful.
“Thank you,” she says softly, just for me.
“For what?”
