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Josie was smiling and crying all at the same time, but it no longer hurt to feel all of those things mixing together. Instead, it felt wonderful.
“I believe you,” she said.
Then a thought hit her like a sledgehammer.
“What about football? The Falcons?”
Sawyer shrugged. “I mean, most of us retire by thirty-five anyways. And I’ve made it this long without any serious injuries, so I figured it’s better to get out while the going is good, you know?”
Josie was stunned. That, more than anything, made it all feel real, that Sawyer was back and he was serious about everything, that it was all real and she didn’t have to worry about closing her eyes and having it all vanish around her.
“Are you sure?” she asked. “Like, really sure?”
He nodded. “I’ve never been so sure of anything. I love you, Josie Moore.”
Josie let out a shout of joy and jumped into his arms. “And I love you, Sawyer Butler.”
EPILOGUE
A YEAR LATER: SAWYER
Sawyer didn’t get nervous.Not anymore, not in a very, very long time. But right now he was sweating bullets, and a horrified part of him thought he might actually be sick at some point. Luke was enjoying himself immensely, watching Sawyer squirm, doing up his tie as they waited in the kitchen.
“Stop it,” Sawyer said, starting to pace. He needed to move, needed some sort of action.
“Stop what?”
“Smirking at me.”
“But it’s funny.”
“Seeing me agitated?”
“When it’s not directed at me.”
Sawyer sighed as Luke continued to chuckle at his expense. Luke had been picking at a bowl of dry cereal, nixing the milk so that there was no chance of spilling any on his suit before the ceremony even started, but Sawyer hadn’t been able to face eating anything that morning.
He was getting married, and the fact seemed kind of bizarre like the lead-up to it all had been some pleasant dream that he was wandering through. Now, here he was, standing in the kitchen in a suit and dress shoes, rerunning what they had rehearsed so that he didn’t mess up, wondering who had already arrived and who was yet to appear, if the food that Luke had prepared was going to be enough for everyone attending (it would be and then some), and if they really had set up the sound system properly, (they had). Focusing on the practical things seemed to help, distracting him from the feeling that his heart was going to bust through his ribs at any given moment.
Sandy made an entrance, still somehow incredibly stealthy, her footsteps almost completely silent despite being eight months pregnant. She came into the kitchen and looked from Luke to the bowl of cereal and back up again.
“Please don’t get food all over your suit or I will actually murder you,” she said with an exasperated expression.
Luke wiped his hands on the clean dishcloth he’d had on standby, prepared for Sandy’s inspection.
“I’m clean!” he announced. “Not a crumb on me, I promise.”
Sandy just stared at him, and Sawyer was compelled to come to his brother’s defense.
“He’s been very careful, Sandy, don’t worry. I’ve been supervising.”
“I’ve even been eating them individually, piece by piece. Pinkie swear.”
Sandy sighed. “Fine.”
“I promise,” said Luke, kissing her on the cheek, his hand gravitating to her belly like it always did. “There is not a speck anywhere. And if there is one molecule of processed wheat on me, I’m sure Josie won’t care all that much.”
“I know Josie wouldn’t care, which is why I gave her exactly the same speech when I saw her about to eat blueberries for breakfast.”
