Page 49 of Amelia and Her Prince Charming
“I want to be wherever you are, wherever that is,” he said, but his eyes had lit up in a way that even his casual tone couldn’t hide.
“I want to be here. With you, Hudson. I’m in this all the way. Forever.”
He swallowed, and his voice was raspy when he spoke. “Me too. I always have been.”
I pulled his head gently down to mine to give him a soft kiss. “Good,” I whispered.
Someone knocked into my legs and nearly took me down. I gasped as I tottered on one foot, but Hudson caught me and pulled me into his chest.
“Can I dance too?” Quinn stared up at us, one arm around my waist, and one arm around Hudson’s. “I love this song.”
I realized that the song we’d done karaoke to was playing over the speakers. I caught Rosie’s eye, and she gave me a wink before her new husband twirled her into a dip that made her squeal in delight.
Hudson nodded, his eyes looking suspiciously wet. “Quinny, I would love nothing more than to dance with you and your mom.”
I glanced over his shoulder and saw Anita and Elm watching us with serene expressions on their faces.Thank you,I mouthed. They both nodded, and then Elm pulled Anita onto the dance floor, and they were swallowed up by the crowd.
I turned back to my two favorite people in the world, all of us linked together by arms and legs and hearts. Hudson and Quinn. My world. My forever.
Epilogue
Hudson
Quinnhadherhandscupped around her mouth as she bent close to Amelia’s stomach. “Baby Junie. We’re waiting …”
Amelia looked at me over Quinn’s head and I could tell she was holding back a laugh. Our baby was a week past her due date and showing exactly zero signs of being ready for birth.
We were all sitting in a booth at Icy Asps restaurant, watching the Peaks play on the big screen television over the bar. The restaurant was full to the brim with Peaks fans there to watch their hometown hero, Dylan, play.
“Junie will come when she’s ready,” Amelia said, shifting uncomfortably on the seat. Her gluten-free pizza only had a couple bites missing. She hadn’t been very hungry this week, saying her stomach was too squished for food, but I’d finally convinced the kitchen to add gluten-free offerings to the menuand she wanted to support their efforts. “And apparently she really likes it in my belly.”
Quinn got even closer to Amelia’s stomach. “It’s more fun out here,” she sang to the baby. A mound rose from her stomach toward Quinn, and they both squealed. “She’s moving!”
I watched the two most important girls in my life follow the movement with their hands and marveled at how lucky I was.
Amelia and I had been married and living in Winterhaven for over a year now. We’d had a quiet ceremony in my parents’ backyard with our closest friends–even Bret and Gage, whom we decided to forgive for nearly killing us in their attempts to matchmake us. Bret didn’t seem remorseful at all, but Gage had apologized enough times for the both of them.
The best part was when a blue jay had landed on the flowered archway we stood under for the wedding. No one understood why both Amelia and I stared up at it and grew teary. It felt like Shiloh had given us his blessing, and that meant the world to me.
Amelia was working at the high school with Mrs. Mabel, the English teacher who had been there for almost fifty years. Mrs. Mabel had decided to slowly retire, which meant that she still came in most days to talk with the kids and recommend books, but let Amelia do most of the teaching.
And one of Amelia’s favorite units? Writing original love letters. She promised them it would come in handy someday. Some of her students got creative and wrote love letters to their dog, their television, their favorite food, and occasionally, to the love of their life. Or, who they thought the love of their life was at sixteen. The only rule? No plagiarizing classic literature. Especially the letter fromPersuasion(the one Ididn’twrite), which she had framed on her wall as a bad example.
I was working at the family clinic in Winterhaven, mostly dealing with viruses and stitches, but got the occasional strange case to keep things interesting.
Since getting married, Amelia and I had not had one near-death experience or another encounter with the moose, something we were both grateful for. Icy Asps had added a lid to their huge dumpster to keep out the animals (and people), so we didn’t have a quick and easy place to escape to anymore.
Quinn was in second grade and loved it. My mom picked her up every day after school and brought her to their house until Amelia or I got off work. Mom and Dad were happier than I’d seen them in a long time. Quinn had brought new energy into their lives. She was so much like her dad in that way, and being with her felt like having a piece of him with us again.
“I can’t eat anymore,” Amelia said as she pushed her plate back. Her cheeks were flushed even though it was cold outside.
“I’ll grab a box,” I told her. I ran to the bar, and while I waited for them to grab me one, I turned to watch Amelia, not caring if everyone saw how much I was in love with her. She was so beautiful. So kind. So everything.
And somehow, she was mine.
I often thought about the man on the island. The one who had built the abandoned cabin and never stopped longing for his family. I wish he could have found them, the way I’d found mine. I’d never known greater happiness.
Amelia and Quinn headed outside, and I knew Amelia was going to try to walk through the pain she’d been having in her back all morning. This baby had to come sometime.
