I nod against his chest, my hand flattening over the necklace.
“Sometimes you don’t realize what you had until it’s gone,” hesays, his voice soft and low. “And sometimes… you realize there was nothing there to lose.”
I wrap my arm around him, tightening my grip as I press a kiss to his chest.
A deep understanding settles over me.
Matt only lets go when something is broken beyond repair—his dad, business deals, his mom.
But he clings to the cross at his neck.
He stepped up for Cole.
And he waited. For twenty years, he waited for me.
Because when Matt loves someone, he holds on.
And damn, I’m lucky to be one of them.
Epilogue
MATT
Six Months Later
September
I takea sip of my whiskey, letting it sit on my tongue for a second before swallowing, then reach for my cuff links. A grin tugs at my lips as I look at the M and J monogrammed into the silver, a wedding gift from Jordan.
“You nervous?” Jensen asks from across the room, slipping his arms into his suit jacket.
I nod toward my glass. “This is my second, so…” I huff a quiet laugh. “Yeah. I’m a little nervous.”
Not about marrying her. I’ve already done that.
But about standing outside a Greek chapel, right in front of her grandfather, getting crowned like some ancient king, trying to remember all the things we’ve practiced over the past few months.
We’re in Spetses, in one of the villas I rented for the bridal party—me, Jensen, Kevin, and Jeff in this one. Jordan, Sabrina, Megan, and Roman and Alley in the other. The rest of the guests are staying at a boutique hotel nearby.
“Shit,” Kevin says. “I’m on my third and I’m not getting married.Don’t know what that says about me, but I’m ready to have a good fucking time.”
“Jesus. Pace yourself, Kevin. We’ve got all night,” Jeff says, adjusting his watch. He’s always been the responsible one.
I glance down at my glass again, debating whether I need a third.
I don’t. I’ll save that for later, when I have to solo-dance in an enclosed circle.
I look over at Jensen, sober as they come. He’ll be celebrating his two-year sobriety this weekend, and I’m really fucking proud of him.
“I don’t know how you do it,” I say. “It’s admirable, brother.”
“Thanks, man.” He chuckles. “Don’t know how admirable it is when you consider what got me here”—he makes a face—“but remembering how drunk Kevin got at his wedding is enough to keep me sober most days.”
We all bust up laughing.
“Holy fuck. I thought Megan was going to divorce me before we even left the reception,” Kevin quips.
“Yeah, we were all pretty fucked up that night,” I say, glancing at him. “Even Jeff.”
