Pops stands and raises his glass in a toast. I swear my grandparents haven’t aged a day in my entire life. “To good food and the love of my life,” he says.
“Come on, Pops. You have to say more than that this time,” Dad says. “Fifty years. What’s the secret?”
Pops glances at Gigi for a long moment, then he brings their joined hands to his lips. “Never go to bed angry—apologize and work through it. Communication is key.” He swipes his free hand down his salt-and-pepper beard. “Always make sure she has fresh flowers on her table. When they start to wilt, replace them with new ones. Most importantly, marry your best friend. The person you can’t live without. Make them the center of your universe, the axis your entire world revolves around, and your life will never be lacking.”
Gigi stands, her eyes brimming with unshed tears as she rests her hand on his cheek and kisses him.
The young kids make gagging noises, and Finn says, “Can we eat now?”
Pops laughs. “Always hungry, that one. Let’s eat.”
After dinner, Mom brings out a huge three-tiered replica of their wedding cake, decorated with white roses and baby’s breath.
“Holy shit, Livie. You could feed the entire town with that thing.”
“Swear jar, Uncle Griffin,” Elsie says. “That’s five dollars.”
He carefully slides a five-dollar bill into her hand. “This is getting out of hand.”
As the sun sets below the horizon, I follow the familiar path to the big oak tree at the back of the cemetery. I clean the fallen leaves from the stone and set a new bouquet in the vase, then sit in my usual spot with my back against the tree, staring down at the name etched in stone.
“Hi, Mom. It’s me. Emmy.”
Bonus Epilogue
Before We Break
? Cough Syrup - Young the Giant
Noah
At 5 a.m. like clockwork,the alarm goes off. I can hear it through the paper thin walls. It’s not a normal alarm—it’s one of those grating ones that could revive Tinkerbell. Next comes what she affectionately calls her hype girl playlist, followed by the sound of pans clanking, and the coffee maker whirring.
My neighbour and tenant, Clio Marsden—beautiful, curvy, fucking infuriating. Sunshine wrapped in neon colors and a smile that could probably melt an iceberg—but not me. I’m immune to her charms.
I smash a pillow over my face to drown out the noise and close my eyes, hoping to fall back to sleep. But now I seeher, clear as day, wearing that ridiculous striped sweater she wore the night we met. Even my memories are determined to torment me into insanity.
We live above my tattoo parlour in the small shit hole townof Willow Valley. It’s where I grew up, born and raised. I don’t know where Clio’s from, but if I had to guess I’d say my own personal hell. She blew in on a breeze last year like Mary fucking Poppins, taking up residence in my apartment building, and under my goddamn skin.
It used to be all one big open plan apartment up here, but it was way too much space for a single guy with no kids, so I hired my buddy Miles to split it into two units. I hadn’t accounted for how paper thin the walls would be.
When the incessant noise continues for longer than usual, I throw open my apartment door and barrel across the hall to bang on hers.
As the wood panel swings open, Clio’s green eyes are sparkling and she’s wearing that same bright smile that never seems to falter, no matter how many times we’ve done this back and forth.
“Oh. Hi, Noah. I just finished making breakfast. Want some?”
I cross my arms in front of me. “No.”
“Ok…” there’s a long pause before she speaks again. “What can I do for you?”
“You can keep it down. You know, like the last 800 times I’ve asked.”
“Right. Sorry. I’m not used to living in an apartment yet,” she says, scrunching up her nose in that adorable way of hers.
No. Not adorable. This hellion isanythingbut adorable. She’s annoying… and loud… and fuck, did she paint those jeans on?
I shake myself out of it. “This is your last warning.”
