Epilogue
Julian
One year later
“Ithought I might find you out here.” Archer slipsthrough the open window, climbing out to the balcony where I’m standing alone with my glass of Dalmore.
“Sorry. This week has just been…”
“A lot,” he mutters in reply as he leans against the low balcony wall, putting too much space between us.
Downstairs, his parents, my parents, and Freya’s parents are all congregated around a giant table, surrounded by all our extended family—brothers, sisters, friends, aunts, uncles, godparents, nephews, nieces…you name it, they’re down there.
The wedding has been a weeklong celebration, and I’ve adored every single moment of it, but something about tonight drove me to seek a moment of solitude.
We’re officially married. I have a husbandanda wife. Something about that still feels impossible to accept.
Reaching for Archer, I set my glass down and put out my hand for him. “Come here.”
He slides seamlessly into my arms, and our chests press together as he buries his face in my neck and I do the same to him.
“This is nice,” I whisper.
“Everything okay?” he asks, running his hand up and down my back.
I still feel his and Freya’s concern for me even though I’ve been doing great for the past year. I’ve taken my meds daily, been seeing a therapist, and haven’t had a bad attack since last year. I no longer let my anxiety control my life.
“Better than okay. I was just thinking…this week flew by in a flash. The wedding on Saturday is still a blur. Not once did I just stop and take it all in.”
He pulls away. Gently, he brushes a strand of my hair back into place. “I never took you for the sentimental type.”
I huff out a laugh. “Neither did I.”
The window opens again, and we both turn our heads to find Freya climbing out. In her turquoise skirt and gold bandeau top, she is a vision, even two days after the real ceremony. Henna still adorns her hands and palms, my and Archer’s initials hidden somewhere in the intricate design.
“Oh thank God,” she mutters as she closes the window behind her and rushes over to us. “I had to get out of there.”
Chuckling, Archer and I pull her into the fold.
“It’s a lot,” I say.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Freya says as she leans into Archer’s side. “It’s been the best week ever, but I’m ready for that honeymoon.”
“One whole week on the beach in our private cabana,” Archer replies with a wistful expression on his face. “I want to be fucking the entire time. If we’re not eating and drinking, we’ll be fucking.”
Freya giggles. Her fingers grip mine, and she toys with the thick gold band on my ring finger. “We still have to decide on the name, because as soon as we get back, we’re submitting paperwork to change it.”
“Assuming you do change it,” I reply gently.
She tips her head back and gives me a fierce expression. “I’m changing it, Julian. Accept it.”
I didn’t want to pressure either of them into changing their name. Sure, it’s traditional for her to take her husband’s name, but she has two, and I don’t want Freya to feel as if she has to strip away a piece of her heritage for us.
No matter what we do, it feels unbalanced.
“Let’s go back to the idea of morphing them into something new,” Archer says with enthusiasm. “Kade…poor…ilde.”
Freya and I both break out in laughter. “That’s a terrible idea, but I love you for trying,” she says, moving to her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.
