EPILOGUE//10 YEARS LATER

Flora's P.O.V

One of the many beauties friendship provides is forgiveness. Friends; they're not bound to you by blood, but loyalty and kindness. They're your mutually chosen family. Out of all the humans around you you've picked each other as your favourite. You don't need to put up with their crap because tolerating them isn't obligatory. But true friends do it, and my own had an endless capacity for forgiveness - particularly one of them.

     Even if that meant stalling her big day.

     "Honey, breathe. Come on, sigh out softly. We'll make it in time." Said Parker as we piled into his pick-up truck, Matt in the back.

     "No we won't no we won't no we won't-"

     "Emergency snacks in the glove box." He cut me off. Had it been about anything other than food I might have protested, but my man knew what the goods were. He had Snickers and crisps and many other delicacies to keep my panic at bay. Well, my panicked words. My thoughts would still be very much circulating, my mouth would just be too preoccupied to bother voicing them. He was smart like that. That wasn't what mattered, though. Over the years he'd become more and more open and accepting of his emotions, not squirrelling things away like he used to. On occasion he'd still do it but this wasn't one of those times. Right at that moment he was as transparent as glass to me - I could tell he too was worrying and all that did was amplify my own concerns.

     "Thanks," I tore into the chocolate bar with the ferocity of a feral animal, Parker absentmindedly flicking the falling crumbs before they could melt into the fabric of my expensive pastel pink bridesmaid's dress. "Twinkies crushed into pancakes down the side of your seat."

     "Your affinity for continuously stuffing things where they shouldn't be is stressing me out even more. Choose one place to shove unsuspecting food, the side of our bed or the truck. We can't have both attracting mice."

     "You're telling me you're not grateful each time I seductively whip out a delicious delicacy from the depths of the mattress? That you were faking delight that time I sultrily fed you beef jerky? That you aren't thankful right now? Whatever, I'll have the Twinkies myself."

     "No, I'll-"

     "I'll eat it nice and slow and describe in vivid detail what you're missing out on. Don't worry, it'll be just like a good ol' Marks and Spencer's advert. I bet I could do the voice even better. I-"

     "Stop messing with me, damn it!" He snatched the half-unwrapped Twinkies, of which I'd hastily leant over and swiped from his side, from my grasp and shoved it in his mouth, packaging and all, before starting up the truck.

     "But the wrapper was..."

     "No comment," He choked out around a mouthful of sponge and plastic.

     "We're so late. Oh my Lordy. Christ on a bicycle. Jesus Christ shepherd of Judiah."

     Matt giggled behind us. "That makes no sense."

     "Oh, be quiet and drink your chocolate milk. I'm stressed. I. Am. Stressed."

     "I couldn't tell." Murmured Parker sarcastically as he span the wheel and had us hurtling around the corner at an alarming speed I was - for once -grateful for.

"Skylar's been dreaming of her wedding day since she fell out of her mother's vagina," Parker, ever a fan of my verbalisation, made a sound somewhere between a choke and a moan of discomfort. "And now we're going to arrive even more fashionably late than she will. She'll be mad about that."

"Surely she won't arrive fashionably late to her own we- Yeah, okay, you're right. It's Skylar. Christ almighty, why my mate wants to marry that diva I have no idea."

"Hush now, you silly goose. Axel has very good taste. And you love her, really. You wouldn't have remembered that hideous decorative pillow she wanted for her birthday last year and reminded me about it when I was having a meltdown about what to get her if you didn't."

"You said you'd stop bringing that up," Growled Parker. "And that you wouldn't tell anybody."

"Yeah, so naturally I'll continue to do so. Oh, and I've already told all of your friends four times over. The guys like it when I expose your hidden femininity."

Parker made a hasty turn left and Matt squealed in the back. Simultaneously we turned around so quickly our necks nearly snapped in order to make sure we hadn't catapulted the fragile blond from his seat (something that had happened more times than either one of us cared to admit) (but in all fairness he was always so enthusiastically bouncy) (therefore we are to be held unaccountable for future disasters, just saying) but it turned out he was still where he should be. The chocolate milk, however...

I appraised the brown liquid that had somehow managed to splash over every square inch of the vehicle's interior - windows, seats, ceiling and all dripped a nice, muddy brown - in spite of the carton being half the size of my hand, and stated, "I am not cleaning that."

"Matty," Parker moaned, taking another abrupt - but legal, we were all about the legality now... most of the time - curve around a corner. Thankfully this street was familiar from the copious amount of times Skylar had taken me to the venue to just check, double check, triple check this was definitely where she wanted to host her wedding. It ought to only be another few minutes until we arrived and that would only make us ten minutes late. "How are you always so messy?"

"Oopsie daisies?" Was all he offered in response, an impish grin plastered to his chubby little face. Cute when partnered with his angelic golden curls and crisp little suit on his tiny kiddy frame, but devlish when taking into account the mess he'd just made and how brown now stained his once pristine-white shirt collar, and he knew exactly what he'd done. The innocent card; he liked to play it, and he was damn well good at it with those dimples. A bit like his father in that way.

"In all fairness this one's on you and your manic swerving," I smiled at our little fallen angel in his car seat who, even at the tender age of four, was already showing telltale signs of the troublemaker he was setting out to be. "Isn't that right, Matty?"

He nodded solemnly as Parker pulled over around the side of the church with a defeated laugh.

If the abundance of cars already parked were anything to go by, everybody had already arrived. That wasn't surprising considering the magnitude of the event. For these occasions one tended to turn up early as opposed to late - but then would we really still be us if something hadn't gone awry?

Axel had let Skylar go to town on the entire event. It was seen in every square inch of decoration. From the lengthy red carpet that had been rolled over the grass out front to lead you to the church as if you were a celebrity figure, with even a few photographers positioned at the entrance manically snapping photographs as if literal paparazzi (I wasn't kidding, they were clad in all black - t-shirt, jeans, boots - and I just knew that wasn't a coincidence considering this was a black tie event), to the abundance of lace-trimmed bunting brandishing the names of the soon to be newly weds. Not to mention the copious amount of scarlet rose petals running along the pews. Nothing about it exactly screamed Axel, but the boy was smitten and clearly didn't mind. If I hadn't already been convinced of that then I certainly would have been when we caught sight of him as we rushed inside. The boy was grinning like the Cheshire Cat as he ran up to us. Thankfully the wedding didn't look remotely ready to begin.

"You're late. On my wedding day the two of you are late." His scolding tone didn't match the mega-watt smile he wore which hadn't once slipped, if anything it had only widened, so it didn't exactly strengthen his angry façade.

"Three," Piped up Matt as he peeked out from in between my legs. We all looked down at him, and he faltered a moment as he pointed to Parker and I before gesturing to his own chocolate splattered chest, raising tubby fingers as he did so until his thumb, pointer finger and middle finger were extended. He looked up at me, suddenly unsure. "Three late. Mum?"

Parker ruffled his hair affectionately. "That's right, kiddo. But remember, Axel's stupid. He's slow at math. So's mum. You ask dad the hard stuff because...?"

"Dad's a genius." Recited Matt, well taught in the practice of Parker's bullshit.

"I can count to three." Protested Axel at the same time as I said,

"Technically there's four of us now so mum is better at math."

Before Parker could make a protest about how that didn't technically count just yet Axel cut in with, "Stop playing happy families at my wedding and stealing my thunder. I've told you before and I'll tell you it again, babies and burps and diapers and umbilical cords are so not my thing. You're here to celebrate the stars of the day. Hint: they are not you."

"Really?" I eyed the cream ribbons that were strung along the outsides of the pews, Skylar and Axel's names printed along their lengths in elegant curving black script. "Couldn't tell."

"Shut up. I tried to tell her we should have printed Skax to be cooler but she wasn't having it."

I literally choked trying to contain my snort of amusement. I had assumed when Skylar previously mentioned this minor argument in the planning process she had been joking. I should have known by now something so ridiculous was possible when it came to my friends.

Parker looked confused. "I don't get it."

"Skylar and Axel," Explained the exasperated groom with a sigh, but with Parker still clearly not comprehending he continued with, "Do I need to spell it out for you? Skaxler."

"Then why did you say Skax?"

Axel gave him a duh look. "Because it sounds better? Short. Snappy. Has pizzazz. You wouldn't understand. It's not like anybody wants to be called Flarker. Sounds like a disease. Oh hey mate, sorry I can't make it today. Came down with a real case of the Flark."

"Well now I don't want to give you the lemon drizzle I baked you," Parker glared. "I made it with the new special lemon syrup I perfected at my bakery earlier. Guess you won't be the first to try."

"Now don't be so harsh, man. All was said in good jest!"

Parker had been about to reply, undoubtedly with some form of witty retort, but was beaten to it by an extremely high pitched squawk that could only belong to one person. "Did someone say lemon drizzle?" Matthew all but screamed, bounding along and tripping over the hem of his dress pants. They were about an inch too long for him and he was glaring at them as if it were the trousers' fault rather than his own poor judgement of size. "I meant that," He said once he realised we had all been spectating as he tripped. "Just so you know."

"You're twenty-eight now, mate. How you stumble through life independently I've not a clue." Axel shook his head at his best man, clearly debating why after all of these years he still entrusted him with grown-up tasks.

"The children carry me." He said dramatically with a twirling hand gesture.

I assumed he was referring to the children he saw on the daily working as a children's entertainer. He'd been floating about for a fair few years doing random jobs that he hated. Some he quit, others he found himself immediately fired from, much to his bemusement, when he accidentally did something incredibly stupid. Around five years ago a spot in a local company as a children's entertainer opened up and he'd never looked back since. His record wasn't judged too harshly as the manager had a daughter, some girl called Libby who had apparently doted on Matthew during high school, who had ranted and raved about the injustice of our story in the tabloids and local paper and what a good person he was when the public was made aware of the goings on. That meant he was particularly well rehearsed on the matter and had no trouble employing him. Of course it helped he was a natural what with him having a two year old's sense of humour himself. My own son loved him and I had no doubt my next would also.

"I'd be offended if they never, for you are their king and they your slaves to humour." I said.

Matthew mulled this over for a moment, frowned slightly, then nodded. "Yes," He said with a growing smile. "That is exactly how it is."

"Jesus," Said Topher as he approached, hands stuffed in the pockets of the open tailored black suit jacket he wore. To say he looked dashing was an understatement. I'd always thought him to be gorgeous so it didn't exactly come as a surprise when he opened up an Instagram account when he was on holiday in Ayia Napa, his first ten posts shirtless ones to attract the ladies, that some foreign modelling agency swept him away. He wasn't around much which was just as upsetting for my eyes as it was our feelings, but what with him now owning a massive apartment on the south-east coast of Cyprus we made sure to visit him every summer. It was nice to have him here for a change. The crisp white of his shirt only seemed to amplify his now sun kissed skin. "Why would you say that to him? He'll lose the job for definite now. Boss'll come in when he's calling all the kiddies his slaves."

"Libby wouldn't let that happen." Matthew protested. "She loves me too much."

"Used to love you, mate. Not that any of us even remember the girl so she couldn't have done very much."

"She's my childhood sweetheart, even if I didn't know she existed!"

"So then it's switched around. You love her now. Damn, if you don't grow balls sometime soon she'll move onto greener pastures. Find another guy to paint his face like a clown and blow up balloons. Better watch your back. Ask her out soon."

Matthew fell into a panic-stricken silence and Matt giggled, prodding at Matthew's leg for he couldn't exactly reach his cheek.

"Your face looks funny," Commented the four year old.

"Got Parker's bluntness, that one." Topher grinned at him before looking back up at me. "Lucky you. Irritating ass times two in your house."

"Tell me about it."

"Not to alarm you but when I got here I bumped into a certain bridezilla running rampant down the corridor demanding the presence of a certain quirky maid of honour that was supposed to be with her ten minutes ago."

I swore under my breath. It didn't take a genius to work out who she was in hot pursuit of. "I almost forgot. Need to go now. Park, you're on Matt duty."

"But-"

"No ifs no buts no coconuts." I snapped, dashing past the celebratory festivities and out into the main corridor of the church.

Before I was completely out of earshot I heard Matthew murmur solemnly, "Well you can't argue with logic like that."

I heard Skylar before I saw her. The church was positively teeming with guests which consequently had every square inch of the corridor clogged as some tried to make their way into the main hall for the event and others seemed to be making up for lost time in the most inconvenient of places. Above all the ruckus penetrated my best friend's dulcet tones that simply radiated her naturally calm and composed disposition.

"If somebody doesn't find Flora fucking Montgomery for me then so help me god I will tear everybody limb from limb who's standing in my way as I do it myself! No, no- stop talking. Immediately. I'm not listening to anything you're saying, priesty boy. No, I don't care if Axel sees my dress! I am looking for my god damn MOH. What do you mean what's an MOH? You work here, surely you've met someone as interested in the art of abbreviations as myself. My goodness, I can't believe you or any of this. Let me spell it out for you: I. Am. Looking. For. My. Maid. Of. Honour. Comprende?"

I cringed at the offensiveness of the entirety of Skylar's stress-induced rant. In my haste to reach her before her head imploded from what I knew to be anxiety levels of a cosmic size, I all but pushed an elderly lady clean off her feet. I quickly shot my hands out to steady her, leaving them there for a few moments to make sure she was stable.

"I am so sorry-" I began, but stopped short as her wrinkled face looked up to meet my gaze. This wasn't just any old lady, this was Skylar's grandmother and she wasn't upset in the slightest about our run-in. In fact the woman was so happy to see me that her mega-watt toothy grin turned into one of gums as her dentures flew from her mouth to sit by my feet. After handing her back her smile and partaking in a saliva-slick handshake (yes, my bridesmaid dress was now covered in grandmother spit because I needed to wipe it away somewhere after pleasantries and Parker had my Kleenex in his suit pocket - remind me again why so many dresses didn't have those?) it was her turn to start pushing me about the place.

"Thank goodness," Her voice was small and raspy and I could only make out the occasional phrase. "Psycho granddaughter," She wheezed. "Late! Things will be fixed now! Good! Wish I had my teeth and not my ears! Much screaming!"

For a frail woman of such short stature her strength came as something of a shock, my feet too slow for my brain and only moving thanks to her tough pushing which ceased to be once I reached Skylar's side. Her ranting hadn't toned itself down in the slightest and I don't think it would have done any time soon had she not become aware of my presence.

"FLORA!" She screamed, and the relief upon her glittering face was palpable. Shimmering lipstick, eyeshadow and highlighter; it was as if Skylar's makeup was made of the frost seen outside during winter, silver drawing attention to all of her best features and, in this particular moment, emphasising her icy mood. "I would kill you if you weren't serving such a vital purpose today. Just as bloody well I told everyone to come earlier than was necessary or else we'd be having real issues."

"Wait, so technically I'm not even la-?"

"Enough. Come now."

I wasn't at all sure where I had thought Skylar would lead me, but my first thought hadn't at all been the girl's bathroom. Before I knew what was happening she was locking the door behind us and hiking up her leg in the most unlady-like fashion, foot wedged in the sink and dress riding so far up it left her garter exposed.

"Is there a reason that I'm seeing this much of your thigh, and in the public bathroom no less, or are we just in here for the thrill of it?"

She gave me a look. "We're in the bathroom because I can't bloody stand that room I've been allocated to fix myself in. Everybody's there and they just keep faffing around. Touching and prodding and crying at me. Now you, my emotionally confused and too-awkward-to-cry-in-public friend, are exactly who I need right now in this hideous dilemma."

"Dilemma?"

"My garter." She huffed, pulling at the ruffled white band that encircled her leg. "It's decided to attach itself to the lining of my dress and I can't detach it. You can't ignore it when the dress is down either, it doesn't sit right. It's ripping it all up on the inside and looks- wrong."

"Right," I came closer to inspect, and attached it most certainly was. The problem, however, seemed easily rectified. "Well I'm no expert but that actually may be due to the abundance of safety pins you've got poking out all over the place, some completely unfastened with their pointy pieces roaming free into the fabric of your dress."

"You think I don't know that?" She snapped.

I hesitated. "Uh...?"

"Fix it would you!"

"Why do you even have safety pins on this thing?" I questioned her as I repeatedly stabbed each and every finger tip I had trying to right the situation. "Isn't this supposed to be the easiest part? It's a stretchy thing. One size fits all?"

"Oh, you know nothing!" She huffed, readjusting the tiara on her head that had moved to a jaunty angle in her stress-induced bedragglement. "It's never fitted right but it was the one I wanted. All the other times I've practice ran two safety pins did the trick. Now I think I've got about-"

"Twenty-six." I informed her.

"Yeah. Give or take a few... yeah. Yeah, there bloody are! All the other times it goes fine but for my actual real life wedding day? Of course it goes wrong."

"So what do you propose I do then, take them all out?"

"And ruin half an hour's worth of work? I hope you're kidding."

I stared at the mass of sharpened metal and torn fabric, questioning my best friend's definition of hard work. "Skylar, your thigh is virtually weaponised with the amount of work you've put into it. How is Axel supposed to ravish you when you already appear to be ravished? You'll take the poor boy's eye out."

"He can ravish me carefully. There's not going to be any ripping."

"There's already rippage, and of your making no less. Axel won't have to do a thing. I'll also have you know that the whole ripping aspect was very much a thing in the olden days. You know, guests used to rip off the clothes of the bride and follow them straight into their marital bed, tearing at their clothes as a sign of encouragement-"

"Flora, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I'd really rather neither you nor Parker got anywhere near my marital bed. Topher I could perhaps make an exception for, but your freaky family? No sir-ee."

"Well can I at least rip off these safety pins if I can't get in on the action later?"

"Oh for goodness sake, FINE!"

It must have been some fifteen minutes later that you could consider Skylar's garter more material than metal, and another five to adjust it so as to not have it falling past her ankle as she walked down the aisle. It seemed all of her faffing over it had broken any elastic that was within the garment, and now, with a newfound phobia of the safety pin, we were forced to resort to the hair tie. Tying the bobble around the excess fabric of the garter inevitably left a large bump, like a standard tee that had been tied into a crop top has that awkward knot for a hem, and the argument I fought with my inner self that was telling me to just rip the thing in two so that she couldn't wear the monstrosity was a passionate one. Alas, like the good maid of honour I was, I tied the garter knot so she could tie her marital one... or however that saying was supposed to go.

"It's going to be fine," I promised her. "The ceremony is going to be beautiful. Just think, after everybody's stared at you and thought of how pretty you are-"

She nodded with a smirk. "I do like when people do that."

"I mean, that wasn't supposed to be the reassuring part of my speech, but I digress. After everyone's looked at you doing your thing, you can have a wonderful alcohol fuelled wedding reception in that beautiful gazebo you've got waiting for you on the beach where you can let loose, just relax and-"

"And you'll help me into my wedding reception dress, too?" She cut in. It was phrased as a question but I knew it was a statement.

"You have another dress you need help with?" I was baffled. I knew some people preferred to change into a more casual dress for their wedding reception to be more comfortable in, so I couldn't fathom why Skylar needed help to get into it.

Skylar rolled her eyes. "Duh. You need two dresses. My next of course is equally, if not more grand."

"I think you've missed the point of why you change dresses."

She patted my shoulder. "Oh Flora. So much to learn. As ever your obliviousness has brought back my feeling of self control. I'm ready."

I shook my head at my favourite hypocrite. "Alright, Sky. Let's get you married."

The wedding, in spite of its incredibly rocky start, ran surprisingly smoothly. Its only flaws could be seen with Skylar's unnecessary touching of her thigh every two seconds despite both of us knowing full well that garter knot was so tight it was more a tourniquet than an accessory; Matthew's unnecessarily loud sobs throughout the ENTIRE duration of the ceremony because apparently he was just too moved by it all; and my little Matt, the worst flower boy in history, quite literally trying to attack guests in the pews with the aggression he threw the rose petals with despite having practiced dozens of times before showing him how to delicately scatter. Clearly we hadn't practiced after half a carton of chocolate milk before. He just hadn't been feeling the lovey dovey vibes today like his namesake had.

"We made that," Parker had proudly boasted in relation to the painful memory once we had all travelled to the wedding party. The pride in his voice about our son should have been a lovely thing, but quite frankly it was concerning considering the topic. "We gave him life."

"It seems we also gave him your rebellious teenage aggression even though he's only four."

We both stared at him, wedged between Matthew and Hayden opposite us, Parker in awe and I, if not in a small state of fear, as he wiped his designated plastic cutlery onto the floor that was supposed to make him feel included (a very nice thought from Skylar and Axel) and took Matthew and Hayden's table knives when they weren't looking.

"Is this considered drawing?" Parker whispered as he began carving into the table. There was a cream cloth over it but I didn't dare assume the surface beneath wouldn't be damaged what with the ferocity of his little movements. "Can we say this is him being... creative?"

"I'm torn between defending him and opting for artistic license, and downright admitting we've somehow bred Satan's spawn." I replied in an equally hushed tone.

"Hey, what you doing there buddy?" Hayden asked him as he finally caught on, and subtly took away the knives.

Our son showcased his dimples. "Drawing."

Parker and I let out a joint audible sigh of relief, simultaneously exclaiming, "Artistic license."

Hayden gave us an odd look but let it slide, turning back to Matt. "That right? What were you trying to draw?"

"Your pictures," He said, pointing to Hayden's rolled up shirt sleeves that exposed the swirling ink of his tattoos beneath. "I want pictures, too."

Hayden smirked and looked up at Parker. "I can tell you're going to be just like your Dad. Matt, can I introduce you to someone you haven't met before? He's a very good friend of mine. He's at another table just now saying hello to the bride and groom but he's got lots of pictures on his arms, too."

Matt nodded his head vigorously, already getting ready to bounce up.

"That is," Hayden continued, looking up at us for the okay. "If that's alright with mum and dad?"

"As long as it's Graham, your handsome biker fiancé in question, and not some random delinquent from a street gang you've got the go-ahead." I replied with a grin. I liked Graham. When Hayden had introduced Graham as his boyfriend several years ago it was a big step for him, but it really helped get rid of that chip on his shoulder and brought us all closer together.

"You got me, I was trying to recruit him as part of the Young Church Team," He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, it's Graham. I'll not be longer than ten minutes."

"No, don't rush," Parker replied hastily. "We're going for a walk for some fresh air anyway. I'm stuffed from that dinner, and I want some time away from the little one before everybody's too drunk to entrust them with him."

Hayden laughed. "Who are you both? No drink at a wedding and shackled with children. Hate to say it, but we're getting old."

"Designated driver," Shrugged Parker at the same time as I shrugged with, "Knocked up again."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Heard it earlier. You don't want the next to come out with seven arms and three legs because you had a sip of wine and Parker doesn't want to get a taste for speeding again because he'll realise the fun he's missing. Go off and have fun whilst you can."

"Thanks Hayden," I smiled in lieu of goodbye and Parker gave him a fist bump.

Weaving in and out of the other tables was a chore in the pair of heels Skylar had insisted I wear, so by the time we reached the exit to the gazebo I'd already decided I wasn't braving the sand in them and slid them off my feet. It wasn't like I took them off mid-service, and when it came to dancing later on I highly doubted anybody would still be wearing their shoes. We weren't exactly the classiest group of people, no matter how much Skylar tried to fool herself. I hid them near the table closest to the exit before hopping out after Parker.

It wasn't one of those half-hearted gazebo's that were made of a few sheets and sticks, but one that had been built into the very sands of the Gulf Coast on an elevated wooden platform. Skylar had wanted nothing less than a Gulf Coast beach wedding for as long as I could remember, but in her research I couldn't remember there being an actual structure ready for her to use. I wouldn't have put it past her that she built, and would eventually have to dismantle, this gazebo herself. Good god, I didn't want to even ask how much this wedding had cost them.

Parker and I hopped down the two steps that led to the sand and began our stroll by the waterside. Noises from the wedding reception, chatter and upbeat music, faded into only the sounds of gentle waves the farther we travelled. Parker slung his arm around my back and I nestled comfortably into his side. The smell of the ocean was immediately forced out of my nostrils to make way for the pungent scent of Axel.

I gagged and drew away from him. "Have you been swimming in Axel's aftershave or have you secretly been having an affair with my best friend's newly wed?"

"Neither," He pouted. "I indulged myself in two splashes of his cologne, thank you very much. I didn't swim in it. He said I needed to smell the best for his wedding, and I wasn't wearing the best."

"You were wearing what I bought you for Christmas!" I exclaimed in outrage. When I got my hands on that boy... "And now I suppose you don't like it again. I can't believe one comment from Axel has rid my four months of convincing you that the cologne I bought you smells alright."

"You know it smells like dog shit, you just don't want to admit it because it was expensive and you picked up the wrong thing."

"Then why did you agree with me that it was nice?"

"Because like you said, you'd been going on about it for four terribly long months. It got to the stage that I would rather walk my home streets exuding the stench of a dog's anus than hear another word about that damn present, alright honey?" He smiled, knowing how irritating he was.

I flicked him on the nose.

"I'd flick you back but I'd feel bad," He looked at my swollen stomach underneath the ridiculous pink dress Skylar had forced all of her bridesmaids to wear for the wedding. I hated it with every fibre of my being, and I think it made her love it just that bit more. "I hate these unspoken pregnancy perks."

I smiled at him as we came to a natural stop, looking out over the ocean. It was late evening, and the beach at dusk looked beautiful. Messy paint strokes of grey-blues with just the slightest hint of purple met with the relaxing crash of wave beneath. In the distance you could see the ongoing party that was the gazebo, taking over the sun's work shift to shine a brilliant yellow and reflect across the waters. You could fault Skylar for many things, but her venues had truly been perfect. With a nearby church to maintain tradition (in her own, lavish sense) and a stunning beach to bring back modernity, I almost envied her.

Weddings had never been my thing. They'd never been on the cards until Parker came along, and then just as everything else had, I suppose it became a maybe. It felt like centuries ago that my Haphephobia had ruled my every action, and now here I was with a four year old child and another little boy on the way. Was a wedding really so inconceivable?

"What are you thinking in that complex little head of yours?" He murmured against my forehead.

I thought on this for a moment. How to voice the sudden twist of my gut that reminded me just how thankful I was to have had this boy burst into my life in a flurry of curse words and ridiculous tales and the essence that was so undeniably him. Nobody was perfect, but that was only because everybody's definition of perfection differed. For me, Parker was as perfect as life got.

Before I met Parker Heywood in the beginning of my junior year I had been drowning in hidden fears and terrorised into silence from the truths I couldn't face. They were always there, clinging to my back like dark, foreboding shadows - but their weight was too much. Parker had entered my life when water had been filling my lungs and I was caving in from the pressures of the burdens I carried with me. The burdens that now, I realise, could never have been carried alone.

It all came down to timing, and Parker truly had timed his debut into the shitshow that was my life quite perfectly. He didn't give up on me, and he offered that helping hand to get me out of my mess. He threw the lifeline I hadn't realised I'd been desperate for and dragged me out of the choppy sea that had almost swallowed me whole. I'd been drowning in it for so long, and now quite literally here I stood, safely back on the shoreline with the warm sand sitting comfortably between my toes.

"Honestly, Park," I looked up from the sand that concealed my painted pink toenails from view, out at the vast expanse of water that seemed so very far away from me now, and back to the man who I knew would always be my lifeline. "I'm thinking that I want to experience everything with you. I'm thinking that you're my family. I'm thinking that I wouldn't be me without you, and- and I think I want to marry you."

Parker raised an eyebrow and stood back a little to look at me properly. I could tell the twitch in his cheek was from him trying to keep a smile from his face. "Nice statement," He nodded, still twitching. "Now are you going to ask me properly?"

"Parker Heywood," I smiled, taking his hand in mine. "I am not about to get on my knee because one, I will never manage to get back up thanks to what feels like a sack of potatoes strapped to my front-"

"Hey, that's our future son you're talking about."

"Well, Spud is preventing me from asking you properly right now so-"

"We're not naming him after a potato, and that's final," Warned Parker. "I don't care how heavy he is."

"Are you going to let me finish?" I gave him a look, and he rolled his eyes with his hand still in mine and remained silent. "Okay. I'm not getting on my knees, because our second child has decided to weigh the same as what I imagine a baby mammoth would so I don't particularly want to chance my balance. Second of all, if I walk back into that reception after a significant period of time spent with only you and my knees are covered in sand, pregnant or not people will talk."

"Let them," He winked, now grinning from ear to ear.

"Parker."

"Alright, alright." He mimed zipping his lips shut and gestured for me to continue what was now much less of an impulsive romantic speech and more of an awkward ramble. What was new.

"So, I'm just going to ask you to marry me standing up like this. Nice and awkward. Completely unconventional with reversed roles, no kneeling, and outside someone else's wedding. In retrospect I suppose we shouldn't tell anybody this happened, that's pretty rude. This is Skylar's day, we have to let her have it. We can tell everyone you've accepted tomorrow. Or alternatively if you reject me I'd really rather this be taken to both our graves and we continue living the exact same life. Alright... now you unzip your lips."

Parker was silent for a good while longer, which was typical, really. You wanted him quiet and he wouldn't shut up, you wanted him to speak and he was suddenly mute. I couldn't say I was appreciating the length of time he was taking to consider my proposal. It had been impulsive as heck and he was giving me ample opportunity to look too far into my sudden rare burst of sentimentality.

"You've got to be kidding me," He finally sighed, shaking his head with this strange smile on his face. I was about to start shouting about what kind of response he thought that was to a wedding proposal but instead caught sight of a small, velvet box he drew from his inside suit pocket. "I've been carrying this with me every day for the past five months waiting for the right opportunity..." Parker popped open the box to expose the ring inside. It wasn't a diamond, but a ruby. The beautiful red stone glinted in the dying light of the sun and seemed to reflect the water next to us. He knew I found diamonds cliché - this must have taken some serious thought. Good one, Flora, I thought to myself, brilliant timing as ever. "I've had to ask for your mum's blessing twice because she said I was taking too long and she started putting expiry dates on it, which was bloody nerve wracking by the way. Actually I think I'm past my second expiry date... Not that it matters, because now I'll have to admit you actually asked me because I took too long. BUT ANYWAY. Flora Montgomery, will YOU marry ME?"

"Hang on," I was smiling and laughing, but it was the type that made your eyes well up a little. Not that I was sentimental. Definitely not. Most certainly not... "How is it fair you expect me to answer your proposal when you didn't answer mine?"

Parker grunted something that, contrary to the current situation, was probably quite offensive, before he got onto one knee. He'd only just touched the sand and yet now it was up his shirt and his legs and on the dainty little box the ring was in. Wedding guests were definitely going to have their suspicions. "Because I'm asking properly. Marry me, Flora, because you're my family, too."

"Alright," I choked out, and I realised I was actually crying at that point, but they were the happiest tears I had ever shed. "I suppose I can do that."

Only after tears were shed on both sides and we were officially covered from head to toe in sand, for reasons that would be left a mystery for the benefit of everyone at the wedding reception for more than one reason, did we head back to the gazebo to rejoin our friends and family. It was in that moment that I realised what I had previously thought of myself back in the day had been incorrect. When I had claimed to be a broken vase whose pieces were found by Parker who glued me back together again - it wasn't right. The analogy now felt too sloppy, because I hadn't been glued. We'd pushed both his and I's pieces together and had reshaped and moulded to become a new ornament entirely. There were no imperfections. No cracks or bumps or residual glue stains left behind. Some fragments had been left abandoned, yes, but that was alright, because we were something else when together. We were our own definition of perfect, and what we'd made of our lives was going to stand unbroken until death do us part. That, I was sure of.

// AND THAT'S A WRAP. well guys... it's been a journey. thank u to those of u who enjoyed and an even BIGGER thank u to those of u who patiently stuck by this little story. we've come far, and i couldn't be more happy with the sweet comments you leave me - they really brighten my day ! i hope you've enjoyed reading as much as i did developing these characters, and i hope you'll maybe be interested in reading a little something i've got up my sleeve that's coming your way soooooon... it's called By Touch. the story is completely unrelated to FF and i'd say a little bit more mature, but i hope you'll give it the time of day regardless ! the first chapter will be up soon. it's about a blind girl who witnesses her best friend's 'murder' and finds love uncovering the truth both about him and who blinded her <33

anyways, enough selling myself lmaooo, i've looked back to an unpublished document in this story and it turns out when i came up with some of these plotlines it was in 2015... if numbers are good for anything it's letting u know how OLD AND LAZY U ARE. who knew i'd actually finish this in the midst of a pandemic five years later after finishing my third year of art school??? my first finished story. the end of an era !

i hope each and every one of u are coping alright in this awful time, and if you have nobody to talk to don't be shy about dropping me a message as i'm trying to become more active again. until then my lovelies, thank u for staying tuned. i'm grateful for u all x //