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My dad walks up to me with a smile and takes my hand in his.
"Are you ready, Honey Bee?" he asks, using the nickname he gave me as a child. I asked him once why he called me that, and he said I was constantly buzzing around like I was on a mission. He also said I could be as sweet as honey to those I loved but had a nasty sting when I thought someone committed a wrong.
I nod, and he leads me to the aisle to walk me down it and give me away.
"I'm so damn proud of you," he beams, with tears in his eyes. I've never seen Simon Decker cry, and if he does now, I'll lose it. "You stole my heart from the moment I saw you with your mom, and you've had me wrapped around your little finger ever since. "You turned your big, honey-coloured eyes on me and I was a goner. I may not be your biological father, but you're still my little girl."
I choke back years, smiling up at him. "I love you, Daddy."
I hook my arm into his and face the altar. When the music starts to play, I can't help but laugh. Ryan chose the perfect song, "The Way I Am," by Ingrid Michaelson.
Taking a deep breath, I gaze down the aisle at Ryan and can't stop the grin spreading across my face as my dad walks me toward my forever.
??????
Ryan
She's stunning.
Walking down the aisle in a pair of flip-flops and a simple but pretty summer dress, Em looks more beautiful than I've ever seen her. Her hair is down, flowing loosely, golden and glinting in the fading sunlight. The saltwater and humidity have made her usually straight hair light and wavy.
She's smiling and it's all for me. I smile back so big, I think my face might crack. Her father places her hand in mine, and it just fits, like everything else about us. We just fit. Two halves of the same whole.
I never knew I could love someone like this—so much I don't think my heart could survive without hers beating next to mine.
Her hand squeezes mine, and I squeeze back. We grin at each other like two idiots in love.
Today, the rest of our lives begins. By some miracle, Em chose me, and from now until the day I die, I'll choose her right back.
Epilogue?
Surprise
Avery
Five Years Later
Ifeel like garbage. The flu has been going around our office and I'm its latest victim. Sometimes I can keep food down, and other times it's like the exorcist. Poor Holly's been sick, too, although I think her illness is caused by something much less germy and a lot more spermy.
Holly and Luke have been trying for a baby for about three months, much to the delight of Valentines everywhere. Luke hasn't managed to score the winning goal yet, but I think this time around he's managed to shoot one in Holly's net. She's out buying a pregnancy test and wants to do the thing before Luke and Ryan get back from practice. She doesn't want to get Luke's hopes up before she gets the plus sign.
Ryan and I have talked a lot about babies. I've been to specialists and the prognosis is still relatively the same—I have a small number of viable eggs, and the chances of natural conception are slim to nil—but not impossible, as Ryan likes to remind me. I remind him we've been having a ton of unprotected sex for half a decade, and I have yet to be knocked up.
It's pretty much a foregone conclusion that if Holly starts popping out offspring, Ryan will get baby fever, and we will consider other options, one of which is surrogacy and the other is adoption. Ryan says he's happy doing adoption, but deep down, I don't want to rob him of the chance to father a biological child, and it just so happens we have two someones in mind that want to carry our baby—with one caveat. That Ryan also loans them his sperm.
Taylor and Tyra want a baby, but they obviously can't accomplish that goal without a sperm donor and don't want to use a stranger. Ryan is their first choice. Tyra and Taylor also can't decide who will get to carry this fictional baby because they both want to experience pregnancy. So one night, after too many glasses of wine, Lily suggested that we use Ryan's swimmers to knock both of them up at the same time, and then Tyra and Taylor get a baby, and so do Ryan and me—and you get a baby, and you get a baby, and you get a baby. It was all very Oprah.
We've been casually talking about it ever since, and the more we discuss it, the more it seems like it will become a reality.
I get off the couch and slowly crawl to Holly and Luke's fridge. Their apartment is a second home, so I help myself to a bottle of Gatorade and some fruit.
In a stroke of good luck, five years ago, the apartment next to Luke's went up for sale, and Ryan bought it for us. The timing was perfect because Ollie and Ozzy were moving back to town. I didn't win their condo in our stupid bet, but I did win the best husband ever.
Honestly, for the amount of time we spend in each other's homes, we may as well just knock down a wall and become one big happy family. I pause for a moment to ponder. The idea has some merit. Holly and I miss living together, and if she's planning on having babies, maybe we could share the babies and the apartment. Ryan and I could be cool Auntie and Uncle Gunner.
Then again, there are good reasons we have extra walls and locks on our doors. Nope, I'm vetoing that idea. Walls are good.
I take a sip of electrolytes, letting the cool, blue liquid soothe my throat and stomach. I still feel queasy.
