Epilogue
Asher
“You ready for this?” Graham asks from beside me as I fix my tie.
I turn to look at him and glare.
“Right, just asking. Not many people marry their wives,” he points out.
“Stop teasing him.” Soraya chuckles, handing him their four-month-old son, Lorenzo.
“Where’s Chloe?” he questions, tucking his sleeping son against his chest.
“With Tig and Delia. I’m heading back out there now. You have five minutes, boys.” She lifts up on her tiptoes and kisses my cheek. “You look very handsome, Asher. Linda is a lucky woman.”
“Hey, those lips are mine,” Graham grumbles at her, careful not to wake the baby.
“You know, sometimes, I agree with Linda,” she says with a smile as she pulls open the door.
“What's that supposed to mean?” he questions with a frown. He and my wife might have a truce of sorts, but he is still not her favorite person. I fill that role.
“That you’re lucky you have a big dick,” Soraya says with a laugh, pulling the door closed behind her.
“I regret the day I ever let those two meet,” he tells me, making me laugh. “You ready?” he asks again when I turn to look in the mirror at the dark gray suit and rainbow-colored tie.
I smile, looking down at my ring finger that stings a little and smile at my new tattoo. Oh fuck, yes, I’m ready.
Linda
“Come in,” I call out when I hear a knock on the door, but I don't take my eyes off my reflection.
“Fuck.”
I lift my eyes, startled when I hear my dad swear.
“Jesus, you look just like your mother,” he chokes out, and he’s right.
This was the dress she married him in, after all. A white floor-length silk gown that pinches in at the waist and flares out the rest of the way down.
The bodice is a corset style with satin ribbons that lace up the back and tiny pearls hand-sewn into the front, making it twinkle when the light catches it just right. Over the top, thanks to the rapidly cooling temperatures, I’m wearing a white velvet fur-lined cloak that ties with a ribbon at the neck and offers me a little warmth. It covers all my tattoos, so my hair is now the most colorful thing on show. Delia did an awesome job styling the victory curls and pinning them in place, giving my look a pinup vibe, especially teamed with my vampy red lips.
I turn to face him and smile. “So, I look okay?”
“You look like an angel,” he whispers hoarsely. “I know we have to go, but I need to say something first. I have never loved anyone like I loved your mother, and I never will again. She was my soul mate. There is no getting over that. The only person I love more is you.”
I feel tears spring to my eyes, and he grabs both my hands in his large ones.
“I was so scared of losing you after Ella was gone that I saw everything as a potential threat for a while. I rationalized that if she hadn't been such an amazing artist, she would never have attracted a stalker. I refused to let that shit happen twice, so I pushed you into jobs you hated and made you miserable, justifying my actions but telling myself you were safe from harm that way. Then I nearly lost you anyway. I truly am sorry, Linda. Know that standing here looking at you right now, I’m the proudest father in the world.”
I throw myself in his arms and hold him tight as he squeezes me.
“Let's go get you married. Again,” he tells me with a laugh, pulling away and sliding his thumb across my cheek to wipe a stray tear.
“I love you, Dad.”
“And I love you. If you ever need me, I’ll be there in a heartbeat, and if Asher ever hurts you, I’ll kill him and bury the body.”
I laugh, letting his love fill me up.
“You should talk to Delia. Apparently, she has a shovel and a large trunk.”
Asher
I nearly swallow my tongue as she makes her way down the aisle toward me on the arm of her father.
“Close your mouth,” Graham says from behind me, making my mouth snap shut.
I don't know why I decided to make this fucker my best man other than without his dickishness, I might never have met Linda to begin with. I just won't let him know that. His head is big enough as it is.
“Hi,” she whispers up at me shyly.
“Hi,” I whisper back. “You look beautiful, Skittle, although not as colorful as usual today,” I tease.
“Don’t speak too soon.” She laughs before lifting the hem of her dress to reveal rainbow-colored Converse pumps. I can’t help it. I throw my head back and laugh.
“We are gathered here today to celebrate as Linda and Asher renew their vows to each other.”
I tune the minister out, happy to just stand there and drink in the vision before me. She might already be my wife, but I wanted a do-over. I don’t want to miss a second of her agreeing to be mine, plus this way, her father gets to walk her down the aisle. I also plan on surprising my wife with the honeymoon we never got to have the first time around.
“Would you like to exchange rings?” the minister asks.
Rings were something else I messed up with before too. Thinking back to the gumball ring I carelessly dismissed at the hotel makes me grimace. If ever there was a neon sign I missed, it was that one. I’m the first to admit it took a while for me to pull my head out of my ass, but the day I slid my rings on her finger with the intent of keeping her forever, something changed inside me, a knowing if you like, that Skittle was destined to be more than my other half, she would become my everything. Finding them that fateful day on the bed we made love in hours before nearly destroyed me.
Now I hold out the same band as before, the circle of different colored stones representing the rainbow that defines Skittle to me. As I move to slide it back on her finger where it belongs, I freeze before slowly turning to seek out Tig, who is beaming at me from one of the center pews.
“You’re welcome,” he shouts out, making people laugh, me and Linda included.
I run my finger gently over my name inked around the base of her finger and slide the ring on top of it.
She inked my name on her skin. The possessive bastard that I am approves.
When Linda lifts her hand to slide the simple platinum band she chose for me, she gasps at the sight of her name tattooed around my own finger.
“Looks like Tig was busy last night,” I tell her dryly.
Last night was the only night we spent apart since the night of the gallery opening. The night I almost lost her.
“By the power invested in me, you may now kiss your bride, again.”
I don’t need telling twice. Sliding a hand into her hair, I kiss her hard, not giving a single thought to the cheering audience.
By the time I pull away, we are both a little breathless.
“I love you, Mr. Sloan.” She smiles wide.
“Love you too, Mrs. Sloan.”
I stare down into her eyes as I move inside her, my fingers entwined with hers as I push them into the mattress above her head. “You are so fucking beautiful.”
And she is looking up at me like I hung the fucking moon.
She wraps her legs around my hips, pulling me in tighter to her. “Yes,” she whispers, arching up into me. “Harder, Asher,” she gasps.