Stretching up on my toes, I kiss him. I don’t care who sees or if it pisses my brother off.
“I love you.”
“Love you, too,” he murmurs, holding me close.
Within the warmth of his body, I feel safe, like I’m home, and I know everything is going to be okay.
I know I’ll never forget that day.
I’ll never forget the loss of my mom. Of the other lives lost that day.
I won’t forget the recovery, the tears, the pain.
But I will move on. I am moving on.
With every smile, every laugh, I’m not letting that day hold me prisoner anymore. I know I’ll always have my moments where dark clouds might block my sunny day, but it’s okay. Life is meant to be lived, and I’m finally doing that again.
I once thought that Lachlan was the sun and I was the rain. That there was no happy ending for us.
I was wrong.
There’s always a chance for a happy ending, but you have to choose it.
And I do.
I choose this life.
I choose him.
I choose us.
And that’s a pinky promise.
Epilogue
Three Years Later
I didn’t want to do the big wedding thing, with the poufy dress, the guests, all the hoopla. But Lachlan insisted that we were doing this right. He said that being able to love in the light meant he wanted to watch me walk down the aisle in a dress to him. I couldn’t argue with that—I did have one stipulation though. Well, two.
The first was I wanted to get married in Scotland, it was the root of his heritage, a place he’d never been, and neither had I, because even when I started on my trip across Europe almost four years ago I’d known then that Scotland belonged to him. Now, it would belong to the both of us.
The second was, I wanted him to wear a kilt.
He thought I was kidding.
I wasn’t.
“You sure you want to do this?” I roll my eyes at the sound of my brother’s voice. He steps up beside me in the little home we rented at the venue for everyone to get ready. “There’s a loch nearby, maybe Lach-ness can join his girl Nessie.”
“Sage,” I groan, punching him lightly in the arm, “that’s my soon-to-be-husband you’re talking about.”
Husband. My stomach dips with excitement at that one word.
“Still can’t believe you guys are getting married on your birthdays. You already have the same birthdays, now it’s going to be your anniversary? It’s weird as hell.”
“It’s what we wanted.”
It already seemed ironic enough that we share the same birthday, it only seemed fitting to get married today too. I definitely never thought I’d be getting married at twenty-three, but here we are. Life is defined by the unexpected.