Page 10 of Epilogue Legacy

They’d already moved in together, but I was sure that was hard with their jobs. She was a concert cellist and had gigs everywhere. Thatcher traveled a lot for football.

“This is so beautiful, Thatcher,” I said, snapping the black box closed. I handed it back to him. “What have the others said about the engagement?”

“You’re the only one I’ve told, actually,” he said, and my mouth parted again. He chuckled. “You’re surprised?”

“Well, yeah.” He had several best friends, including my partners. I could imagine all of them were priority over me, his little sister, regarding any and all important news.

Thatcher wrapped one of his hulk-like arms around me. I laughed, hugging him back.

“Bow, you’re my sister.”

“I know.” We never had heart-to-hearts growing up. That was mostly because he was all macho, just like his friends. I squeezed him. “Thanks for telling me first.”

I started to choke up, and he rolled his eyes. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket; I didn’t even know he had one of those. I blew my nose in it before handing it back.

His eyes lifted again. “Keep it.”

“Thanks.” I blew my nose once more. I was just so freaking happy. My brother was getting married.

After I was done (and composed myself), my brother put the ring away. He put his arm on the back of the bench. “I have to admit, I have an ulterior motive telling you first.”

“Okay.” Honestly, this whole conversation was throwing me. From how it sounded in our group chat, he and Aspen were arguing, so this was quite a surprise.

He smiled. “I’ve been asking everyone advice. About life, marriage, kids…” Pausing, he chuckled to himself. “I think everyone thought Aspen and I were arguing, but, really, that was my stealthy way of getting advice out of them.”

Oh, that was funny.

“So now, I ask you.” He leaned forward, putting his hands together. “What advice do you have for me?”

“Regarding what?” I asked, and he shrugged.

“I know I’m the big brother, but you’ve literally created life. You have a family and…” He rubbed his hands together. “I guess I just want to do it right. Snowflake deserves that. She deserves a good life, and I want to give that to her.”

Oh, dang I nearly cried again. My brother could be such a softy sometimes, even if he didn’t want people to know it.

I touched his shoulder, and, in all seriousness, I told him the one thing he needed to hear about life and relationships. I told him the one thing to be okay. “You are enough, Thatcher. You’re enough for her, and that’s all you need to know.”

He blinked, like, a few times. It was as if he was confused by what I said.

I squeezed his arm. “You’re enough, big brother.”

I hugged him then, a nice firm one, and he hugged me back, so hard.

He released a breath. I knew he understood what I said when he breathed out, “Thanks, sis.”

Aspen

“Thatcher, what is this?” I asked, my eyes widening. He brought us to a movie theater, but it was filled with candles. They weren’t real candles, just flickering plastic ones, but it was still lovely.

It was beautiful.

When Thatcher told me we were having date night at an old movie theater, I hadn’t expected this. The flickering candles lined the aisles of the empty theater. I stared in awe.

Thatcher took my wrap. “Told you I had something fun planned,” he said, then chuckled. He looked so handsome tonight in a cable sweater and tight jeans. He was usually in t-shirts and high-tops. Today, his shoes were shined, but he left his spiked earrings in. They were ones I loved: dangling crosses sharpened at the tips.

He folded my wrap, then placed it on a theater seat. “We have to celebrate the end of your tour properly.”

Grinning, I bit my lip. There was a reason I decided to shorten my tour, but I kept that to myself.