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Epilogue


Nick

I knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

The sunlight was coming in through the window on the far side of the room, reflecting off the mirror. I sat myself down on the desk, just like I’d done when Kevin had first showed me this place. He was standing in front of the mirror, staring into it, fixing his tie.

“This place fixed up nice,” I commented.

“Took a lot of work, but we got it done,” he agreed. He turned to face me, his tie a little crooked and I jumped up and walked over to straighten it. “How’s the tour with Jordan going?”

“Great.”

“How’s Lauren?”

“Good. She’s good.” I smiled. My hands dropped from the tie. “You doin’ okay? ‘Cos I gotta rental out there with our names on it if you need to go. We can go out the window here.”

Kevin laughed, “Caroline made sure it was locked this morning.”

“A locked window is your slippery shoes…” I grinned. “I’m still convinced Lauren like oiled those bitches down on me, I felt like I was walking on ice the whole time we were in the reception hall.”

Kevin smiled, “I wouldn’t put it past her.”

“Me neither!” I answered.

Once we’d finished chuckling over the idea of Lauren oiling down my wedding shoes, Kevin sighed and looked around. “I feel like this whole year’s been spent in these grooms’ rooms for us, huh?” he asked.

I nodded. “Running in and out of them, mostly,” I said.

Kevin smiled.

“I was asked to come see if you’re ready in here,” I told him.

He took a deep breath, “I think I am.”

“Good,” I smiled. “I peeked at the bridal party earlier and she looks gorgeous.”

“She always does,” Kevin answered.

I grabbed the door, pulling it open, “Well c’mon, man, before you’re late for your weddin’.”

“Wait. Lemme hang a U-turn.”

“Ha. Get your ass out there to the altar,” I said, waving him out the door.

Kevin laughed, and grabbed a folded paper from the desk, “Can’t forget these. My vows.”

“You got anything good to say?”

“Spent all night writing.”

“Speaking of you writing all night… You owe me Ninja Turtle Post-it’s, dude,” I said as Kevin stepped through the door into the chapel, the stained glass window lighting up the newly renovated seats with warmly colored sunlight. “We’re still findin’ little crumpled paper balls all up in the foyer. I swear you had a freakin’ confetti party up in there with ‘em.”

Kevin laughed, “Remind me later and we’ll stop on the way to the honeymoon to get your damn Post-It’s at Target.”

“There ain’t no Target in this town,” I argued.

“We’ll go to Honchell’s then,” he said.

“Dawg, all they’re gonna have is Duck Dynasty Post-its,” I argued, and I pulled the door closed behind us.