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A happy tear escapes as I take his wedding ring in my grasp and hold his hand.
“Dahlia Jenkins, do you take Dylan Hall to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better and for worse, for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?”
I’m already speaking before the celebrant can finish the last word. “I do,” I say as I slide the ring onto Dylan’s finger. He grasps my hand, holding me tight.
“Dylan and Dahlia, you have come here today to seek union with each other and, in the presence of your family and friends, have declared your love and commitment to each other,” the celebrant says, and my whole body tingles in anticipation.
I’ve been waiting for this moment for what feels like forever, though really it’s only been less than two years. Still, we had to push the wedding back because I didn’t want to worry about fitting my pregnant belly into the dress, and this moment is made all the sweeter knowing we’re a family already. This just confirms it.
“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
Daniel squeals with excitement as the guests clap and cheer. I wrap my arms around Dylan’s neck, his hands go to my waist, and he dips me backward. He kisses me like I’m the only thing he needs to survive, and I kiss him back with the same desperation.
When we pull apart, we’re both smiling, and the sounds of our loved ones cheering around us fill the whole garden with love. I feel complete, with his ring on my finger and our home at my back, our son beside us, celebrating everything that brought us to this moment.
And I can’t wait to see what our future brings.
EXTENDED EPILOGUE
DYLAN
“That’s it, careful now,” I say slowly, holding the half-assembled project steady while Daniel hammers in a nail. The kid’s only ten, but he’s nearly better than I am already, always out here building a new project of his own or helping out with mine.
Pride fills me as I watch my son check his work with a grin, setting the hammer down and wiping sawdust off his rosy cheek with the back of his hand. His blond hair and green eyes make him the spitting image of his mother, but his preference for solitude and tendency towards gruff one-word replies is all me—the perfect mix of us both. Our eldest constantly reminds me how lucky I am to have this family.
“Can we finish it tonight?” Daniel asks eagerly, showing enthusiasm for the projects covering the garage floor the way his brother shows enthusiasm for football.
I chuckle at him, taking the tools and tidying them away. We added the garage as part of the extension project, needing more room both for the kids and for our work. This house is still the same old beauty it was, just with some extra additions to make sure it grows with our family. It’s home, and neither Dahlia nor I can imagine moving out, no matter how many homes we work on for other people. This place will always be special to us.
The door that connects the garage to the house opens before I can answer my son, and Dahlia pops her head through, our youngest clinging to her side. At three, he’s already tall and looks like a giant on her hip. Definitely takes after me, that one.
“Bedtime,” Dahlia says softly, smiling at Daniel.
“Aw, but I’m not done!” he whines, pouting in disappointment.
I pull him into a hug, patting his shoulder. “We’ll work on it in the morning straight after breakfast, yeah?” I tell him, pleased when he nods and smiles at me. These kids have me wrapped around their fingers just like their mom does. I wouldn’t change it for the world.
Daniel yawns as we head inside, and I chuckle, knowing how tired he must be. On Dahlia’s hip, Dean’s already asleep, his head nestled on her shoulder, his brown hair flopped over his forehead. My chest warms as I take them in, leaning forward to kiss the toddler on his head before turning to place a quick kiss on my wife’s lips.
“I’ll get Daniel, you put him down,” I say. “Is Derek already down?” Our seven-year-old still thinks five AM is when our day should start, which means he’s nearly always the first to take himself to bed. Dahlia smiles, nodding.
“Barely made it through his ice cream before he was nodding off.” She chuckles, shaking her head. As much as the early starts might get a little exhausting, we both know we wouldn’t want it any other way. All three of our boys are their own perfect little people, and the love we have for them is impossible to put into words.
I head off to take Daniel to his room as Dahlia does the same with Dean, taking a divide-and-conquer approach like usual. I never would’ve imagined myself as a family man before Dahlia, but now I can’t imagine living any other way.
“Goodnight, buddy,” I say as I close the door, pretty sure Daniel is already asleep before it shuts. I peek into the rooms across the hall, checking on the two other boys and finding them both completely asleep too.
It’s not often Dahlia and I get time for ourselves, and I intend to make the most of it.
When I head down to the living room, I find Dahlia curled up under a thick blanket on the sofa, a take-out pizza box on her lap. She looks up grinning as I enter, lifting the blanket at her side in invitation. I sit down beside her, tugging her in close to my side, and adjust the blanket so we’re both curled up together.
“I didn’t feel like cooking,” she says with a laugh as she opens the pizza box.
“Pizza is perfect,” I tell her, taking a big slice and eating half of it in one bite. It’s been a long day between the kids and work, and I’m starving…for more than just food.
“The flooring should go into that townhouse tomorrow,” Dahlia informs me around a mouthful of cheese and crust. “Then it’s just the last few styling touches and it’ll be ready for the market.”
I nod, updating her on the wardrobe and coffee table Daniel and I are working on for that house, then tell her about the cottage I saw online. “Reminded me of this place years ago,” I say, pausing to kiss her hair as nostalgia washes over me. “Run down but full of potential.”
