But all I can do is run to him.
“He was going to kill me,” I tell him, sobbing. “And the only thing I could think about was how I wouldn’t get a future with you and O2.”
He stays in stone-faced killer mode to slide his gun into a holder under his vest. But then…
The violence fades from his eyes and he looks down at me tenderly to ask, “So, I didn’t fuck this up? You’re still going to marry me and make me the happiest son of a bitch on earth?”
I think about it.
But not for long.
Griff was wrong about a lot of things—just like me. But he was right about the courage it took for me to be Red, and to let a bad-boy biker take me home. And to take a chance on our marriage two weeks ago.
He’s asked me to still marry him, and I decide to take my most courageous action yet.
I pull the Ruthless Reaper Rockstar Mogul’s ring out of my pocket and put it where it belongs. On my wedding finger, “I love you too, Griff. And I want to spend the rest of my life being not boring with you. So, yes, I’ll still marry you.”
EPILOGUE
GRIFFIN
Not a lot of people choose to recommit to their engagement over a dead body. But hey, works for us.
And O2 does not say, “Eww!” on the last Sunday of the month as she stands up with us on the altar and watches her groom father kiss her mother, the bride.
She just cheers along with her real cousins, her play cousins, her three grandparents and uncle, and all of her father’s biker friends as her parents seal their new-old love with a wedding kiss.
“Best birthday ever!” she declares to anyone that wishes her happy birthday at the reception afterwards.
And that’s a whole lot of people. Back when Red still hated me, she told O2 the wedding would be small.
But after we decided we were all in with love on top, a bunch more people got invited.
I figured since O2 was my daughter, not having the spotlight on her special day might be a problem. But she’s Red’s daughter too. And apparently, she’s also got that main-background character switch inside of her.
Which makes it all that more satisfying when I take the stage in the middle of the reception. “Okay, I know I, of all people, probably have no business asking a surprise guest to come to my wedding….”
I pause because everybody laughs. Especially Phantom Zhang, who told me at the rehearsal dinner he might be interested in a soju deal now that his wife has seen for herself how happy my wife is with me.
Kyra Fairgood still isn’t talking to me. But hey, she showed up for the ceremony. And you know what they say about time healing all wounds. Well, I plan to be around for the rest of her best cousin’s life, so she’ll just have to warm back up to me eventually.
Anyway, enough about them. Back to my speech: “But I’m making an exception because today is also my daughter O2’s birthday—the first one I’ve ever gotten to spend with her. So, in an effort to out-dad all her other parties, I’ve not only married her beautiful mother—the most wonderful and interesting woman in the world—I’ve also invited some very special guests to lead us in a round of happy birthday….”
And that’s when sasha X kasha—yes, actual Sasha and Kasha—walk in carrying a small birthday cake with six candles.
"Happy Birthday, O2!” they call out to her together. And then they lead the whole room in singing “Happy Birthday” to O2.
Seeing our daughter break down in happy tears when sasha X kasha come into the ballroom isn’t worth all the birthdays I missed. But it comes damn near close to making up for them.
Yeah, this is definitely the best birthday present…the best wedding…the very best day of all our lives ever.
“Thank you for getting them to come,” Red whispers in my ear.
“Thank you for thinking of it,” I whisper back. “We make one hell of a team.”
“Right?!” she agrees, nudging me in the ribs. But then she eyes O2 worriedly. “She’s really overcome. Should we tell them not to ask her to sing with them? I don’t know if she’ll be able to get it together.”
I can see why she’s worried. We’re almost done with the song, and O2’s still crying and blathering so loudly, you can hear her over all of us singing “Happy Birthday.”
Still, I answer my wife, “That’s the best part of the present, and she’ll be all right. Trust me.”
“But…” Red starts to say.
“Trust me,” I say again before she can finish.
And look how far we’ve come….she just lays her head on my arm and watches the rest play out.
Sure enough, as soon as we hit the last “to you,” O2 pulls it together in an instant to blow out her candles.