28
Epilogue
Six Months Later
Ifluff the yards and yards of white tulle and fabric in preparation for the walk down the aisle. High heels that are far too high for safety, long hair that looks so pretty I want to weep.
I study the reflection I see in the full-length mirror, and smile at the sweetheart neckline, the bejeweled bust, the tiny tiara sitting perched on the top of luscious hair.
It’s all so perfect, as is the bouquet of flowers I painstakingly put together this morning. Rose gold, fabric roses made from a special gown that has now been repurposed so the gown’s previous owner can be a special part of today. A string of pearls encircles the bouquet, dangling almost like a rosary. We stand in an elaborate church; it’s not quite a castle, but this is just as magical. The organist plays in the main room while we – me, Sophia, Jessie, Laine, and Andi – move around our small changing room amid giggles and excitement.
The groom awaits his bride. Angelo awaits Laine, and Riley is wearing a brand-new prosthetic leg, something I recently found out was the brainchild of the man I love, and waits to see what Andi is going to do to hijack this ceremony. Spencer is wearing a three-piece suit today –allegedly– which makes me almost sick with nerves while I wait to see him. He’s going to be so handsome while he waits at the top of the aisle for us to arrive.
He’ll complain about the suit choking him, but he’ll stand there anyway, because I told him to. Because I demanded he do as he’s told,or else.
“Guys…” Sophia stands beside me, presses a hand to her stomach, and turns a little green as she studies herself in the mirror. “I’m not so sure about this.”
“You’re going to be fine.” I move around her massive dress and work on setting the train exactly right. “Married life is kind of fun, I promise.”
“But… it’s Jay,” she whines. “He’s crazy, and not in the good way. He’s immature and makes me wanna stab him with an icicle more often than not.”
“It’ll be winter again soon,” Andi chimes in. She wears a dress the same as mine; soft cream, sweetheart neckline, an amazingly supportive push-up bra, and tight around the backside so it looks like we’ve all had butt implants. “If you wait for the ice, you can off him with an icicle and wait for it to melt again. It’s the perfect crime.”
“Nobody is killing Jay.” Jessie steps into our huddle and studies herself in the mirror. She slides a hand over her stomach and down to her hip. Baby weight, gone. Perfect hair, reinvigorated. Bigger boobs, she got those, too. “I like him, so I’m going to be hella mad if someone hurts him.”
“How can you possibly like him?” Sophia snaps. “Ihardly even like him.”
Jess grins and loops her fingers with Sophia’s. “You said yes. He asked, and you said yes. That’s an important detail here.”
“He did it without being silly.” Her bottom lip quivers while she remembers back. “He was always going for over-the-top and extravagant. So when he finally got it right… it was kinda impossible to say no.”
“And now you’re wearing a dress that looks an awful lot like a tutu.” Andi walks by and smacks Soph’s butt. “You want this. You’re dying to go out there to him. You barely slept last night because you couldn’t wait for today.”
“I barely sleep any night,” Soph pouts. “He’s probably gonna be the father of my children, guys. That’s terrifying.”
“Probably?” Andi snickers. “I think it’s guaranteed.”
“I have Bishop babies,” Jess sighs. “They’re my favorite people in the world. You’ll be fine, Soph. I promise you’ll be fine. This is a happy day, not a freak-out-and-flee-the-country day.”
“I love him.”
“Yes you do.”
“He’s good in bed.”
Jess snorts. “I’m certain he is.”
“He’s actually super sweet when it’s just us, and he’s not acting a fool.”
“I know he is.” Jess walks around us and stops so she blocks Soph’s view of the mirror. “He’s amazing, smart, handsome, funny. He worships you, Soph. You will never find a better husband than a Bishop. Trust me, I know.”
“Okay.”
“You got this?”
The tiny brunette gives a jerky nod not unlike the kind I gave Spencer when I finally agreed to marry him.
We haven’t done the castle thing. We haven’t done the reception or anything more formal than signing the marriage license. But neither of us need to. We married six months ago, in a hospital room, with our friends and family watching on. The next day, I said my final farewells to a sweet girl who never should have hurt. I sat on our bench seat in the sun, and cried for her. Spencer held me close and let me feel for her while the trees moved in the soft breeze, and the birds chirped their morning song. He held me together while I dropped my face into my hands and purged my grief for the beautiful girl who had become a beautiful blue butterfly.