Her waist-length, dark brown hair whips around in the breeze and her feet stumble through the sand as she runs toward the ocean. I’m sitting a hundred yards away, watching her. Just far enough to not look creepy, but close enough to hear her squeals and laughter as Joe and Anne White playfully chase her.

She does flips and cartwheels, a bellowing laugh erupting at the end of her flipping, and a lump grows in my throat, making it hard to swallow. Tears sting the back of my eyes as I see my daughter double over in laughter as Joe tackles her into the sand and tickles her stomach. She's just about the age Frankie was when I met her—and she is the spitting image of Frankie.

I hear light voices approach from behind me as Frankie plops down next to me in the sand, Ashley sitting on the other side of me.

"You okay?" Frankie asks, placing her hand on my forearm.

I swallow hard, trying to push the lump down, but I can't. I just focus on Libby—my daughter.

"She's happy," Ashley says quietly and I nod my head.

She is happy. I can tell Joe and Anne have given her a good life. A life that I'm not sure I could’ve ever given her—but I would’ve liked to have tried.

"My parents are totally open with her about the adoption. Anytime you want to meet her or she wants to meet you, they'll make it happen." Ashley is so sincere, and I appreciate it.

"She's still so young," I choke out and clear my throat. "I think it would be confusing for her right now, but someday…"

Frankie laces her fingers through mine and rests her head on my shoulder.

Ashley pushes herself up. "I'm going to go say hi to my parents. I'll see you guys at dinner tonight. Reservations are at seven. Don't be late."

Ashley jogs through the sand, down the beach toward Joe, Anne, and Libby, and Libby runs to her when she sees her approach. Frankie swipes tears from under her eyes, and we sit in silence, watching our daughter from afar with her family. A great family.

For the rest of my life, I'll regret my actions that set off a series of events that damn near destroyed me. But as I watch my daughter laugh and smile, I know she's happy and that brings me some peace from the past.

"She looks so much like you did at that age," I remark, squeezing Frankie's hand. "It's like I'm looking at my past."

Frankie digs her toes further into the sand and tips her head back, allowing the sun to reach her face. I lay back in the sand and Frankie rests her head against my shoulder. Contentment falls over me as the woman I love lies wrapped in my arms on a sunny beach with the sounds of Libby's laughter blanketing us.

It isn’t the life we planned, or the broken one we thought we’d always have. It’s somewhere in between, and I have to trust that it’s the one we were supposed to have.

---

"You ready, man?" Carter asks as he rolls up the sleeves of his white dress shirt to his mid-forearm.

"Ready as I'll ever be," I say, taking a deep breath. I'm not the type of guy who gets nervous or emotional very often, but my nerves are on edge today and nothing will put them at bay until I see Frankie.

"Calm down, man. She'll be there." He lets out a small laugh. "I never thought I'd see this day—all the booze, the ladies—"

"Carter," I bark, stopping him mid-sentence, and he lets out a hearty laugh.

Once he composes himself, his expression shifts to something more serious.

"I'm happy for you guys—but if you do anything to fuck this up, I'll take you outside of town and kill you myself."

I huff and straighten my tie in the mirror. "Not gonna happen, man. Never letting her go this time." I know our breakup was hard on Carter, too. He respected Frankie and he didn't like what I did—because for nearly ten fucking years he had to pick up the pieces of my wreck of a life. When I finally pulled my shit together, I saw the toll it took on him.

It wasn't easy being my friend, but he stayed. He picked my drunk ass up off the floor more times than I can count. He drove me home. He punched me in the face when I'd fuck up, but mostly he was just there for me. Whether it was his silent presence at the shop, or listening to me bitch like a little girl, he was always there for me, and I’m grateful.

He claps his hand on my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. "Good. Now let's go get you married!"

---

Who knew a vineyard in Temecula, California, would be the place that I'd get married? Frankie found this place and it's perfect for our small, casual bunch. The chapel sits out in the middle of the vineyard, surrounded by green vines full of grapes. It's simple yet beautiful with its twinkling lights and rustic feel.

This isn't a traditional ceremony—the only one walking down the aisle will be Frankie. Faith is standing to my right and Martha is sitting in the front row with Melinda, who we hired to come with her to make sure she's well cared for.

Faith is holding a small bouquet of flowers and wearing a simple navy dress. Frankie wanted causal and comfortable and that's exactly what she got. Aside from Faith, Carter, Martha, and Melinda, there are only a handful of other people in the chapel. Ashley and her husband, Maggie and Matthew, Frankie's niece and nephew, and Eduardo's husband, Jeremy, all sit with smiles on their faces. It's small and intimate, just what we wanted.

There's no music, but it doesn’t matter because it's as if I've gone deaf when I see Frankie at the back of the chapel. She's gripping Eduardo's arm and holding a larger bouquet of cream roses with greens filling it out. Eduardo looks down at her and presses a sweet kiss to her forehead. Normally I'd want to rip the man's head off, but once I met him and knew he wasn't a threat, I actually found his relationship with Frankie endearing. He's been a great friend and mentor to her, and I'm thankful she has him.

They begin to walk the short aisle, and it's as if time stands still. A million little moments flash before my eyes—Frankie at the fault line, her hair blowing in the wind; Frankie kissing me on her front porch as she sits with her head in my lap.

When her mouth stretches into a large smile, my heart stops.

Everything I feared I’d lost is walking down the aisle toward me, and I can't keep the tears at bay. Eduardo gives me a little wink as Frankie and he come to a stop right in front of me.

The pastor clears his throat and takes a deep breath before he starts. "Who gives this woman to be married to this man?" Eduardo squeezes Frankie's hand and leans in to give her cheek a quick kiss.

Martha stands with Melinda's help and answers, "I do."

As Frankie reaches for my hand and steps up to me, everything else in the world becomes non-existent. Tears openly fall from my eyes, and she reaches up and swipes them away with her finger before she rests her hand on my cheek for a brief moment.

The entire ceremony maybe lasts seven minutes. As much as I'd like to say I remember every second, I don't. I only remember looking into Frankie's eyes, knowing she's mine. Forever.

Today is a new beginning for us. For the rest of our lives, we'll be bonded in love and marriage. This is exactly how I wanted our story to end—together, us against the world. Mr. and Mrs. Cole and Frankie Ryan. Except it's stubborn Frankie we're talking about here…so she's actually Mrs. Frances Callaway-Ryan.