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Horny grump.
Over and over, we traded little love notes.
Some silly. Some sweet. Some downright filthy, and it’s kind of our thing now.
I’ve kept every single one.
Even if they’re for my eyes only.
And even if we’ve both bloomed with each other’s love, there are some parts of us that are just for us.
But this, here and now, it’s for us and everybody else.
Everything we’re proud to show and prouder to say.
“I do.”
Eyes never leaving each other, hearts beating as one.
You may now kiss the bride.
Screw that.
I’m kissing my groom.
As the crowd bursts into wild applause and cheers so wildly they send my heart soaring, I fling myself into August’s arms, drag him down, and kiss him like the plane is going down.
The Mr. Marshall to my Mrs. Marshall.
I’ve never felt more perfect, more wonderful, more bright.
His mouth claims mine, and this kiss becomes the dawn breaking on my first day as his wife.
The very first day of the rest of our lives.
Together forever.
And as we’ve written our story, so it must be.
Epilogue
(AUGUST)
Years later
“And when she went home,” I read, slowly and softly, careful not to raise my voice too high, “Kiki’s grandmother was there with a nice cup of eucalyptus tea to relax her after a long day. And Kiki was proud and happy, because she’d helped the Platypus Twins be friends with Gruffykins the Owl once again.”
The only answer is a burbling sigh.
My newborn daughter—our newborn daughter—squirms in her swaddling, smacking her lips adorably in her sleep as she turns her face into the crook of her arm.
I carefully close the cover of Kiki the Koala: Mending Fences and set the book aside, lightly flexing my ankles to make the rocking chair sway a little. Giselle settles quietly at the swaying, out like a light, with one fist half in her mouth.
My sweet, perfect little goober.
My darling baby daughter, with her tiny fingers and her button nose and her little fluff of wild strawberry blonde hair, just like her mother’s.
She’s already as amazing as her mother too.
