Epilogue

One year later…

My palms sweat, and I resist the urge to wipe them against the black trousers of the tuxedo I’m wearing.

“What if she’s not coming?” I mutter.

Ty fixes me with a stern look. “Stop worrying, Dad. She’s just late.”

He ducks his eyes when he says the D word. We’re both still getting used to it. But every time he calls me Dad, a warm feeling spreads in my chest.

The adoption papers came through three months ago, and our family officially grew to four.

“I’m just fucking nervous.”

Ty frowns at me. “Don’t swear. We’re in a church.”

“Shit.” He’s right. I’ve been trying to check my language since I officially became a father, but old habits are hard to break and the swearing comes out more when I’m nervous. “Sorry,” I mutter towards the minister, hoping he didn’t hear me.

Ty pulls the ring box from his pocket and presents it to me with his eyebrows raised. His dark hair is slicked back with gel and instead of skinny jeans he’s wearing a tux, the cravat the same baby blue as mine.

Calvin’s holding Justin, who’s also in a mini tux and not happy about it. He wiggles in his uncle’s arms, who sets him on the floor for a moment. But the little guy sees his opportunity and makes a break for it, running down the aisle with a huge grin on his face, making everyone in the congregation laugh before Calvin catches up with him.

When Hope told me she wanted a big wedding, I was anxious that I’d have no one on my side of the church. But as I look back at the guests, Jake grins at me and Archer nods solemnly, and every other guy from Clearwater is here to see me get hitched.

Hope moved out to Clearwater soon after we got together. I would have moved to her, but she wanted the change of scenery, and we both agreed removing Ty from his friends wouldn’t be the best thing for him.

Hope was all in as soon as I voiced the idea of adoption and welcomed Ty into the family. I’ll never get tired of seeing the smile on that kid’s face when he comes home from school to two parents and his baby brother.

I still swear too much and throw axes and enjoy destroying things. But I realized those things don’t matter. What matters is that I show up every day for my family. I play with my kids. I put a roof over their head and food on the table and spend time with them doing what they love, which means I now own a skateboard. The things you do for your kids.

A whisper goes around the church, and all heads turn to the back as the wedding march starts.

I take a deep breath, hoping I don’t fuck this up.

Hope comes through the door, and my breath catches. She’s radiant in a simple white dress that hugs her voluptuous figure and flares out, making it look like she’s hovering above the ground.

“She’s beautiful,” Ty whispers.

As I watch Hope float down the aisle, gratitude washes over me.

I have a beautiful, soon to be wife, a too wise for his years thirteen-year-old wingman, a high-spirited toddler, and I’m surrounded by friends.

For the first time in my life, I don’t feel like a fuck-up. I feel like a winner. I won at the game of life. I didn’t fuck it up. I fucking won.