Page 131 of A Fool's Game

The beginning.

Epilogue

Ainsley

“You lot are worse than the bride,” Fran cries, hands on her hips in frustration after finding us still in the penthouse suite. “Get down there!”

Avery jumps into action, taking his own blushing bride in his arms and walking her backwards from the room. “We’re getting him ready, love. We’ll only be a few more minutes.”

Fran is still muttering frustrations as the elevator door closes behind her.

“Seriously, though. Let’s get a move on or your wedding night is going to be hell for me,” he jokes as he takes a step closer, straightening my tie for the millionth time.

“They’ll wait,” Dom cuts in, finishing off his whiskey and pouring another.

I turn down his offer of another drink. I need to keep my wits about me today.

My father is sitting beside me at the dining table, finalizing the documents we’ll be signing at the ceremonytoday.

The shared property agreements. The trust set up to keep my new family safe for the rest of their lives.

When I came to him early this year, searching for a way to marry my two best friends, he didn’t respond with the skepticism I expected. Instead, he put his whole team on the project, and this is what they came up with. A plan that gives my lovers even more protection and rights than traditional marriage and allows us all even footing.

“I’ve got to head down and get set up, but I’ll see you all down there in a few, right?” Sam asks, pushing to his feet and slipping on his cornflower blue suit jacket.

“We’re right behind you,” I answer.

My dad taps the papers on end to even up the stack and slips the cap on the shiny black and gold pen he bought for this occasion. “Your mom would be so proud of you. She never stopped encouraging people to go after their dreams, no matter how unconventional.”

I laugh in surprise at the sentiment. “You think my wedding is unconventional, Dad?”

He shakes his head. “I think you young people find very creative ways to be yourselves, and I try my best to keep up.”

“Us young people are older than your child bride, grandpa. Don’t patronize us,” Taylor says, waltzing into the room in the pale orange three-piece suit neither Gemma nor I could talk him out of.

My father smirks affectionately over at him as Avery lets out a long, low whistle. “Another dashing groom.”

Dom grunts, passing Taylor a whiskey, which he accepts. “Aren’t there rules about seeing each other before the ceremony?”

“That’s just for the bride,” I reply with a smile.

“Oh, now we’re following traditions, huh?”

“Enough,” my father cuts in. “We don’t want to keep yourlovely bride waiting. You guys head down, Ains and I will follow you in a minute.”

When we’re alone, I turn to him, arms folded in mock impatience. “It’s too late for a lecture, Dad. I’m not changing my mind.”

He shakes his head, reaching into a bag I hadn’t noticed sitting by the table leg, and bringing out a children’s book.

Feeling the weight of the moment before he even speaks, I take a seat next to him, craning my neck to see the colorful drawing on the cover. A style as familiar to me as breathing, even though it’s been years since I laid eyes on it.

“I’ve had this with me every time I’ve visited for the last year, but it just never seemed like the right moment to give it to you.”

He slides the book over and I exhale long and slow as the full image comes into view.

It’s clearly my mom and me, as pandas, coming down the steps of our apartment holding hands. The book is called A Walk in the Park.

I place my hand flat on the cover, the cool, smoothness of the dust jacket doing nothing to stop the rising tide of emotions. I press down harder, wanting to see inside, but also wanting to protect myself.

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