Page 80 of Faron
“Blue and I are getting married in Reno this weekend we want you there.”
“Of course, I’ll be there. I’m so happy for you.”
“I know I’m so lucky, to have Blue, I’ve loved her for years.”
73
Blue
The little chapel outside Reno didn’t look like much.
White paint peeling from the trim, a crooked sign that read“Weddings Performed Daily”, and a parking lot full of dust and dreams. But the second I stepped out of the truck and saw Faron standing there in a black button-down and the kind of smile that stole breath straight from my lungs—I knew this was exactly where I was supposed to be.
Tag stood beside him as best man, stone-faced as ever but with warmth in his eyes that softened the edges. Bear had a bowtie. A real one. I didn’t ask how that happened.
Aponi walked up to me, sunglasses perched on her head, her hand lightly resting on my arm. “You okay?”
I looked down at the simple white dress I’d borrowed from Kat, then back at the man who’d walked through fire for me. “Yeah,” I whispered. “I think I finally am.”
The ceremony was short. Sweet. Barely held together with emotion and desert wind. Faron’s hands trembled when he slid the ring onto my finger, and when he said, “You’re my home,” I forgot how to breathe altogether.
Tag cleared his throat when it was time to hand over the rings, muttering something about allergies. Aponi dabbed her eyes and blamed the Nevada sun. No one bought it, but no one said a word.
When it was over, and we were officially husband and wife, Faron didn’t wait for permission. He pulled me close and kissed me like we had all the time in the world.
But later—when the cake was cut, the music soft, and the shadows long—I caught Aponi leaning against the porch railing, sipping from a soda bottle and watching the sunset like it owed her answers.
Tag joined her.
They didn’t talk at first.
Then Aponi said, “You ever feel like… the world expects us to be strong just because we survived?”
Tag tipped his bottle toward her. “Survivingisstrong.”
“But what if we want more than that?”
His voice was low. Steady. “Then maybe it’s time we stop surviving and start living.”
Their eyes met.
Something shifted.
And right then, I knew.
Our story was just beginning.
Untitled
THE END
Keep reading for more of Tag and Aponi.
74
Aponi
Ididn’t think much of Tag when we first met.
