Miles

One year later

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“What the hell are you doing here?” Delia storms into the back office with her hands flailing wildly in the air.

“I have a couple of things I needed to do really fast,” I retort.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Would you relax? I’ve got plenty of time.” I shake my head at her.

“I swear to god if you’re late to your own wedding, Harlow will never forgive me. She left me in charge of you.”

“Did she now?” I chuckle, pushing to my feet. “Well, that was her first mistake.”

“No, her first mistake was agreeing to marry your ass,” she tells me, hands firmly on her hips.

“But thank god she did.” I smile.

“Well, she might have a change of heart when you don’t show up for the ceremony.”

“Would you relax? I’m leaving now, okay?” I grab the paper in front of me and quickly slide it into a large white envelope. “I just had a few things to finalize for Harlow’s present.”

“Well for marrying your ass it better be something good,” she quips.

“Think a house will do?” I ask, watching her eyes go wide.

“You bought her a house?” She gapes at me.

“Not just any house. I bought the house that her mom and dad lived in when she  and Winston were kids. A two-story farm house right outside of town. The perfect place to raise a family.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Miles?” She looks around like maybe the real me is hiding in a corner somewhere.

“What can I say? When you meet the one, everything changes.”

“Clearly.” She snorts. “But if I come in one day and the beard is gone, I’m going to have you admitted for testing because then I’ll know you’re under some weird sort of mind control.” She laughs.

“Harlow loves my beard.” I run my hand down the front of it. “Meaning, it’s not going anywhere.”

“Well thank god for that. The last thing I want to do is have to stare at that face of yours all day. At least the hair kind of masks the ugly,” she jokes, sticking her tongue out at me.

“Are you just about finished? I’ve got a wedding to get to.”

“Well then let’s go already.” She throws her hands up.

“If we’re late, I’m telling Harlow it was your fault.” I playfully shove her shoulder on the way toward the back door.

——

“Man, I never imagined that when I stood up as your best man, it would be my sister you’re marrying,” Winston whispers over my shoulder as I anxiously wait for the doors at the back of the room to swing open.

“I never imagined you being my best man,” I counter, throwing him a sideways glance. “Because I never thought I’d get married.”

“Yeah, that’s true too.” He grins, his gaze going to the back of the room.

I follow his line of sight, sucking in a hard breath when I look up and see Harlow standing in the doorway, her arm linked with her father’s.

Her gaze instantly comes to me and a wide smile spreads across her face. It’s enough to damn near bring me to my knees.

The last year hasn’t been the easiest for us. We’ve had our fair share of ups and downs, but we’ve always come out on the other side better for it. She is my rock. The one constant that never falters no matter what happens.

I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life to make her my wife and today I finally get to.

——

“What’s going on inside that pretty little head of yours?” I reach over the center console of the car and take Harlow’s hand,  squeezing it.

“I’m just trying to figure out why you’re driving south when we’re supposed to be going north.” She eyes me skeptically. “Last time I checked, Michigan is that way.” She points behind us.

“We’ve got the cabin for the next two weeks. It can wait another hour,” I tell her, lifting her hand to my lips and laying a light kiss to her knuckles.

“What are you up to, Mr. Hollins?”

“You’re about to find out, Mrs. Hollins.” I wink, turning left down yet another winding back road.

It’s already nearing midnight, and while I’m more than a little eager to get our honeymoon started, there was one thing I knew I had to do first.

I slow slightly, still not familiar enough with the road to know exactly where the driveway is. Harlow sits up straighter in her seat and starts looking around, clearly trying to place where we are.

Once I catch sight of the old rusted red mailbox, I whip the car into the driveway, the front end bouncing when we hit a dip in the gravel.

It isn’t until the headlights illuminate the house when we reach the end of the driveway that I hear Harlow take a sharp inhale. She has the door open and is climbing from the car before I’ve even put it in park.

Quickly killing the engine, I climb out after her, joining her at the front of the car.

“This was my house,” she says, her eyes pinned on the old farmhouse with chipped white paint and a sunken in front porch.

“It’s your house again,” I tell her, feeling her eyes on the side of my face.

“What?” she blurts.

I turn, smiling when I catch her shocked expression.

“I bought it for you. Well, for us. It needs a lot of work, but I thought we could fix it up together. Make it a home we can raise a family in.”

“I don’t know what to say.” She looks from me to the house and then back to me.

“Do you like it?” I ask, suddenly feeling a bit uncertain.

“Miles, you bought my childhood home. Every memory I have of my mother is in this house. I don’t just like it...” Her eyes well with tears. “I can’t believe you did this.” She shakes her head, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.

“You have made me the happiest man on this earth, Low. I can’t match that, but I sure as hell can try.” I step directly in front of her, bending down so that we’re standing eye level. “Welcome home, Mrs. Hollins.”

Harlow squeals and throws her arms around my neck. “I love you. I love you. I love you,” she chants, bouncing in my arms.

“And I love you,” I tell her, pulling back to press my lips to hers.

The road we take isn’t always the smoothest, but it’s the bumps along the way that show us what really matters in this life.

Harlow is my perfect match. In finding her, I found myself.

She taught me it’s okay to be imperfect.

It’s okay to be hurt and angry.

That obsessing over a past I can’t change only limits the future I can.

We are so much more than the sum of our mistakes.

And that one thing, that one moment – no matter how terrible or tragic – does not define all that we are.

I may not have deserved my happy ending, but I got it anyway. And there isn’t a day that will go by where I won’t look at Harlow and know...

This is the girl who not only saved my life but gave me a life worth living.