"Our girls," she repeats softly. "Our family. Our life."
"Forever," I promise, sliding the ring off to kiss her finger before putting it back. "This ring is just the beginning."
"Then let's make it a good beginning," she says, pulling me down for a kiss that promises everything.
And as I lose myself in the woman who'll soon be my wife, I send up a silent thank you to whatever force brought her into our lives.
Second chances don't come often. But when they do, you hold on tight and never let go.
Which is exactly what I plan to do.
EPILOGUE
Dasha
March
"Stop moving or I'll stick you with this pin," Meghan threatens, kneeling beside me with my hem in her hands.
"I'm not moving," I protest, trying to hold perfectly still in the middle of the clubhouse bedroom that's been transformed into a bridal suite for the day.
"You're vibrating with nerves," Starla observes from where she's curling my hair. "Which is natural, but try to breathe."
"Iambreathing."
"Barely," Everly chimes in, adjusting my veil. "Honey, you're marrying the man you love, who loves you back, in front of people who adore you both. What's to be nervous about?"
"Nothing. Everything." I catch sight of myself in the mirror—white dress—simple but beautiful— hair being styled, makeup already done. "I just want it to be perfect for the girls. And Rio."
The dress was a find at a consignment shop—not new, but new to me.
Meghan and I spent an entire Saturday trying on dresses until we found this one.
A-line, lace bodice, simple but elegant.
Nothing like the pouffy monstrosity I wore for my first wedding.
This dress is me—the woman I've become.
"It will be perfect," Tindra assures me from where she's organizing the bouquets. "Have you seen the backyard? The guys outdid themselves."
"And stayed within budget," Astrid adds, finishing my makeup. "Mostly because they did all the work themselves."
It's true.
When Rio and I decided on a backyard wedding, I expected simple.
Maybe some streamers and balloons.
Instead, the club had other ideas.
Everyone chipped in—Bjorn built an archway from reclaimed wood, Bodul strung lights he "borrowed" from a construction site, the women made decorations from mason jars and wildflowers.
It's not fancy by traditional standards, but it's perfect for us.
"Remember my wedding?" Everly asks, spraying my hair. "We got married in Sturgis, completely drunk, wearing matching leather chaps."
"Romantic," Meghan laughs.