Page 25 of Dad Bod's Daring December

The last I saw of her was at the courthouse. She caught my eye as the bailiff escorted Razor from the courtroom, his face twisted with rage as he cursed her for betraying him. Her lips trembled, her expression a mask of something like regret, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. Whatever we once had, whatever history tied us, burned away the moment she chose destruction over decency. She didn’t say a word as she passed me, and I didn’t stop her.

Rebecca left town shortly after, disappearing into the anonymity of a bigger city. I heard whispers of her working odd jobs, trying to start over, but I didn’t follow up. She was no longer my problem, no longer a weight on my shoulders.

For Ember and me, their downfall marked the beginning of a new chapter. The house, filled with memories of that night’s chaos, slowly became a place of peace again. The townspeople rallied around us. Windows shattered by bullets were replaced; walls marked with violence were patched and repainted. And though the scars lingered—Ember’s slight flinch at sudden noises, my tendency to double-check every lock—they softened with time.

We rebuilt not only the house but ourselves. Together. And while Razor and Rebecca became names spoken in the past tense, they no longer had power over us.

And now, on this special day, the laughter of our friends and neighbors fills the air, replacing the fear that once lingered here.

I tug at the tie around my neck, unaccustomed to anything but work shirts and flannels. Still, if there’s ever a day to wear a suit, it’s today. Under the holly-covered arch, I’m about to marry the woman who turned my world upside down and set it right again.

The chairs are filled with familiar faces, people who’ve become like family. Malcolm from the general store who helped repair the front door after Razor smashed it in. Mrs. Lincoln who owns the bakery, insisted on baking extra batches of cookies “for the nerves” after that awful night. Mrs. Hendricks, dressed in an outfit fit for a queen. And the ladies from Ember’s softball team donned Santa hats, grinning at the sight of me dressed up.

We’ve become a community who look out for and protect each other.

I wait beneath the wedding arch, a simple but elegant mix of holly and mistletoe that sways gently in the breeze. Festive wreaths dotted with red berries and pinecones line the pathway, casting shadows that sway gently in the winter sun. It’s a reminder of everything Ember and I have built together—a life that’s both beautiful and strong.

And then I see her.

My breath hitches, and my heart beats a little faster.

She steps out into the sunlight, bathed in its warmth and promise. Rosa, her matron of honor, laughs by her side and squeezes her hand reassuringly. Rosa has been Ember’s rock since the day she nervously walked into the library as their newest employee.

“Ember, you’re so beautiful!” one of the softball players calls out, her grin wide and infectious.

“Isn’t she the picture of happiness?” Mrs. Hendricks adds, and a ripple of agreement travels through the crowd, their faces lit with genuine warmth.

This town, these people, they’ve given her a place where the past doesn’t cast its shadow.

Love bubbles deep within me as a breeze picks up, tugging playfully at a loose curl around Ember’s beautiful face. Loving her has given me freedom. Today is about stepping forward, hand in hand with my Firefly, and crafting a future bright with hope and brimming with possibility.

The delicate ivory lace of her wedding dress whispers against the grass with each step she takes toward me. Sunlight catches on the tiny beads, making them shimmer like the first frost of winter.

As our eyes meet, an entire conversation passes silently between us, promises of endless tomorrows and memories yet to be made. Her smile, wide and overflowing with happiness, ignites something brilliant within me.

“Firefly,” I say as she reaches me, “you look stunning.”

Her smile widens, and I see the same mix of love and determination in her expression that carried her through everything we’ve faced together. “You don’t scrub up so bad yourself, handsome.”

The vicar’s voice, calm and resonant, cuts through the hum of my heartbeat. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here todayto witness the union of Edward Michael Hayes and December Anne Carter.”

I stiffen, my hand tightening ever so slightly around hers. My eyebrows shoot up, my gaze flickering to Ember’s with surprise and amusement.

“December?” I mouth, my lips quirking into a half-smile.

She bites her lip, pink blooming across her cheeks. “December baby,” she whispers with a cheeky grin. “I get to celebrate for the whole month.”

“Firefly,” I murmur, my voice low and teasing, “you’ve been holding out on me.”

The soft laughter that ripples through the gathered guests only adds to the lightness of the moment. It’s perfectly imperfect, as though even this unexpected reveal is part of the magic of the day.

“Focus, Edward,” she teases. “We’re getting married, remember?”

I grin, filing this revelation away for later. “Yes, ma’am.”

The ceremony continues, the words flowing around us like a gentle tide. Each vow exchanged feels like an unbreakable bond, a quiet revolution reshaping our lives into one.

The applause of the crowd fades into the background as I bend to kiss my wife, vowing that no surprise name reveals, no part of her, will ever be anything less than cherished.

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