The Accidental Text

Now, all I care about is the future. Where we’re going next… not what’s already happened.

Which is a funny spot for a historian to be in.

Lex stands next to mom and dad, holding his wife’s hand, as his wife dabs at her cheeks. Friends from my various TV documentaries and the academic world line the seats behind them, and on Autumn’s side her best friend, Paula, stands with her arm around her boyfriend. Her uncles and aunts have visited too, and a few friends from college turn and smile as she enters the room.

She holds onto my dad’s arm, my old man with a proud grin on his face. He’s shorter than I am, but his hair is the same shade of steel, and people say we have the same eyes. I meet his eyes now, sharing a smile, silently thanking him for doing this.

And then my gaze lands on Autumn.

My heart pounds and the primal animal in me howls, even now, even on this love-filled day.

Pregnancy has only made Autumn curvier, more ravishing, but she looks downright angelic in her wedding dress.

Nobody pulls off the mixture of sexy and innocent as well as my soon-to-be wife.

Her hair has been professionally styled, curling down her shoulders artfully, and a tiara catches the light from the top of her head. Her dress is elegant and sexy, just like her, and as she approaches I swallow a big ball of emotion.

Tears glimmer in her eyes, and when she reaches me, it’s all I can do not to snatch her hand in mine. I take her hand from my dad, smiling at him, and then cradle her hands as we begin the ceremony.

“I think we should do our own vows,” she told me halfway through our planning when her bump was just starting to show. “It would be so romantic.”

And then, a few months later…

“Why the heck did I suggest we do our own vows? I’m going to freaking mess this up. What are you going to say?”

I chuckled, softly tweaking her chin. “I can’t really tell you that, beautiful.”

I wait eagerly for the moment when it’s time for us to recite our vows, and when it comes, I’m stunned to find that my voice comes out choked, as though I’m about to cry. I can’t remember the last time I cried.

I shed a tear when Lila was born, sliding down my cheek silently, but right now I feel like I might erupt.

“Autumn,” I whisper, and then I say her name again, louder, when I remember the crowd.

Their presence drifted away from my attention, as I focused on Autumn, as she became all that exists for me.

“I’ve spent my whole life in the past. I love it there. I love studying history. But when I met you – the moment I laid eyes on you, and fell in love, which was instant – I knew it was time I started thinking about the future. I can’t imagine a future without you, the love of my life. You’re the only person I can ever imagine being with. You’re the best mother, the best… the best person, Autumn.”

I choke my emotions, pushing on.

“I waited three years to make you mine, and then fate brought us together. An accidental text brought us together…”

A quiet laugh runs through the crowd, those who know our unique and magical story acknowledging it.

“I love you, and I consider myself the luckiest man alive that I get to call you mine.”

My woman has tears in her eyes and sliding down her cheeks. I rub my thumbs across her cheeks, smoothing away her tears, and she reaches up and clasps onto my hands.

“I guess it’s my turn?” She giggles. “Well, I’d just like to say, it’s not a big deal but…”

I laugh and she laughs, as she stands there looking more than perfect, as she stands there glowing from her recent pregnancy and all our love bursting out of her.

EXTENDED EPILOGUE

TEN YEARS LATER

Autumn

“Mommy, I made you something.”

I look up from my desk, smiling when I see Lila standing in the doorway. I’ve just been working on my latest non-fiction manuscript, returning to my main passion from college, the Victorian insane asylums.

But then I got carried away.

Our office – Asher and I have never stopped the tradition of sharing an office – is located at the rear of our six-bedroom house, close enough so I can listen to Asher and our three sons playing in the pool.

It's a joy to hear them splashing around, Asher roaring like a Viking berserker as Joey and Liam, and Tom chase after him. They’re between the ages of four and nine, and each of them has their father’s unending energy, his passion for life. Even at fifty-two, Asher is still the most animated man I know, his muscles firmer and more supportive as the years' pass.