“I’ve waited ten years for you to come back to me. For ten years, I’ve been hopelessly in love with the girl that got away. 3650 days, and not one of them went by where I didn’t think about you.” His voice cracks, threatening the very fragile hold I have on my control before I ugly cry. “I don’t want to wait one more day, Wren Miller. I want to be your teammate for life.”
I’m already nodding frantically before Hudson is finished speaking, tears now streaming down my face. I’m not aware of the words coming out of my mouth, but I must have uttered the word ‘yes’, because Hudson is standing, wrapping me in his arms, his lips covering every inch of my face before finally finding my mouth.
“I love you,” I say, each word punctuated with a kiss. When we finally separate, Hudson looks down at the sparkling oval solitaire in the small red box. “When did you …?” I don’t need to finish the question, because he knows. I need to know when he decided he wanted to marry me.
“As soon as I knew you were back in town,” he says it, as if it were the simplest, easiest decision he’s ever made.
“You hated me when I first got here,” I point out.
“It was probably illogical,” he says. “But I alwaysknew deep down I didn’t hate you, Wren. I don’t think I ever did. The moment I saw you scowling at me across the street, there was a part of me that knew it was my chance to make things right.”
“You knew you were going to marry me when I was scowling at you?”
“Yeah, Miller. I did.” Hudson chuckles as he pulls the ring out of the box and picks up my hand to slide it on my finger. It fits perfectly, and once it’s on, he looks up at me from under his eyebrows. A cheeky grin tugs up on the corners of his mouth, the dimple in his cheek pronounced. My kryptonite. “You know how I like a challenge.”
EPILOGUE
WREN
“Are you ready to do this?” My father leans down and whispers in my ear as I link my arm through his. I stare up at him, the greying hair around his temple, the dark brown eyes that match my own. The expression on his face is soft and kind. Nothing like the man that was ready to kick me out of his house and disown me as a Miller last year.
Something Claire said the day we talked at her house rang true.Nobody has it all figured out, and sometimes the people who claim to are the most insecure of anyone. I lived my entire life putting my parents on a pedestal, assuming they had all the answers, that they knew what was best.
I spent a few months after last summer being so angry—furious they would put their flaws and misbeliefs on me. But when I finally let go of my anger and moved past it, I understand the heart of what Claire had meant. It’s my parents’first time living, too. When I look up at my father today, I see him as just a human, like me, doing his best with what he was given.
He apologized, of course. But not after some harsh, honest truths were shared, and a healthy dose of grovelling on his end. My theory is my mother had something to do with it. Perhaps the thought of losing me finally gave her the gumption to stand up to him and tell him to figure his shit out.
I nod back at him. I’m ready. I’ve been ready to marry Hudson my whole life.
I look out at our backyard, and then around the house Hudson and I designed and built together. There are signs of each of us everywhere, in all the details. The exposed beams over the vaulted ceiling in the living room? Those were Hudson’s idea. But the pieces of colourful artwork that bring nature inside and onto our walls? That was all me.
I love this place we created. I love what it represents, the two of us, declaring a beautiful truce. And it makes me so, stupidly, incredibly happy this is where we decided to say our vows and start the next chapter of a long life together.
The soft, acoustic melody of the song I’m supposed to walk down the aisle to starts, and a lump rises in my throat. Hudson picked it and kept it a secret from me. The lyrics ofWildflowersdrift through the double French doors leading to the backyard.
My dad leads me out the door, arm in arm. The plush, green lawn is cool and soft on my bare feet as we set foot on the grass that forms my wedding aisle. All our most treasuredfriends and family members are there, flanking the aisle lined with buckets upon buckets of wildflowers.
Poppy, Ally, Spencer, and Emma are all standing at the end of the aisle waiting for me, but the only person I see is Hudson. Ruby is seated like a perfect angel at his side, flowers in a wreath around her neck. Hudson’s tux is the same as the one he wore to my gallery, with a fresh lipstick mark I put there last night, visible on the collar.
His face is set in the same expression it was the day I first saw him on the street corner on Main Street, a mix of excitement, and awe, and wonder, at the miracle we’ve been brought back together. The miracle isn’t lost on me, either, as I look back at the man standing before me. The man who grew from the beautiful, sensitive, caring boy who stole my heart.
As we draw closer, his eyes trail over my body, taking in the romantic swaths of flowy chiffon I’m wearing. Not white, Rival Rouge. His eyes snag and stop on my matching red lips.
The officiant asks who is giving the bride away and my parents answer, starting off the ceremony that should have happened a long, long time ago. Hudson reaches for my hand as I pass off my bouquet to Poppy.
‘Hi,’ Hudson mouths as we come to stop at the end of the aisle.
‘Hi,’ I mouth back, giving his hands three quick squeezes.
The ceremony might have taken thirty seconds, or it may have been three hours, because time stands still as I stare into Hudson’s blue eyes, reflecting the colour of the milkyblue river behind us. I only come back to the present moment when it’s time to say our vows.
“Wren,” Hudson starts, swallowing hard as he fights his emotions. My hands shake waiting for his next words. “You’re such a strong, brilliant woman, and I want to give you the world. I want to give you everything. I want to be perfect for you. But no one is perfect, so I promise this instead. I promise to be there for you through everything. Your wins, your losses, the good days, and the bad ones. I promise to be consistent, your grounding force. I promise to love you, all the versions of you that you discover in our long life together. I’ve loved you almost our whole lives, and I promise to love you for the rest of it, too.”
Hudson sniffs, and I force back my own tears. Now it’s my turn.
“Some women dream of their wedding day since they’re little,” I start. “Me? I always dreamt ofourwedding. When I pictured myself, grown up, as a bride, it was always next to you. I pushed that dream to the back of my mind once, but I never let it go. I never forgot. Because somehow I knew no matter what happened, I would always find my way back to you.”
We exchange our rings, and the air between us buzzes with tension and anticipation for what comes next.
