Page 112 of All of Me

The rest of the evening unfolds in a blur of joy. Owen’s grandparents Sully and Alice share a dance, their movements slow and steady, a picture of enduring love. My dad sweeps Sara onto the dance floor, twirling her as she shrieks with laughter. Ruby toddles around the edges, clapping along to the beat, while Barrett takes the lead in organizing the kids into a chaotic but enthusiastic conga line.

Vince finds his way to the dance floor, spinning Ainsley in exaggerated circles until she’s laughing so hard she has to sit down. I was shocked to learn that Zoe agreed to drop Ainsley off here since Vince and the guys got ready at my house this morning. The exchange must have gone okay because I didn’t hear anything about it.

Luke lets loose and I’m glad to see him doing so well. He’s probably taking the breakup with Heather harder than he’s letting on. I have caught him sneaking glances at Brooke more than once. Yet, Brooke seems to have her eye on Vince. Taylor raises an eyebrow at me, silently questioning, and I file the thought away for later.

At one point, Owen pulls me aside, leading me toward the edge of the reception where the string lights fade into the darkness. The night air is cool, and the stars above us are impossibly bright. The sounds of laughter and music drift faintly in the background, but out here, it feels like the world is just ours.

“Need a break?” I ask, leaning against him.

“Just wanted a moment alone with my wife,” he says, his voice soft and sure.

The way he says it, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, makes my chest tighten. “I love the way that sounds,” I reply, resting my head on his shoulder.

We stand there for a long moment, the quiet wrapping around us like a blanket. The breeze carries the scent of eucalyptus and wildflowers, and I let myself sink into the stillness, into the safety of his arms.

“Today was perfect,” I whisper.

“It was,” he agrees, his lips brushing my temple. “But it’s just the beginning, Dollface. The best is yet to come.”

We step back into the glow of the reception, hand in hand. Our forever is only just beginning.

The reception winds down, the guests slowly filtering out with hugs, laughter, and promises to catch up soon. I’m exhausted, but happy after a day filled with love and laughter. It was everything I’d dreamed our wedding would be.

Owen has been by my side through the goodbyes, his hand warm and steady at the small of my back. I stretch my arms, ready to head home as the last of the guests leave. The thought of climbing into bed and letting the whirlwind of the day sink in feels like the perfect ending, but when I glance at Owen, I catch the glimmer of mischief in his eyes.

“You ready for the next part of the night?” he asks, his voice low and warm.

I furrow my brow. “The next part? I thought we were just heading home.”

He shakes his head, grinning. “Not tonight, Mrs. Klein. I’ve got something better in mind.”

Curiosity blooms in my chest as he reaches for my hand, leading me toward his truck. The cool night air brushes against my skin as he opens the door for me. “Owen, what are you up to?” I ask, laughing softly as I climb in.

“You’ll see,” he replies, his tone teasing. “But I’ll tell you this, Rita and Wayne are staying at the house with the kids tonight. They’ve got everything covered.”

I blink, stunned. “Wait—what? You arranged for the kids?”

He nods, his grin widening. “I wanted tonight to be just about us.”

The drive isn’t long, but the anticipation builds with every mile. He takes a familiar turn, and I realize we’re heading toward the West Haven project—the cabins nestled on the edge of the woods that Owen helped build.

“Owen…” I trail off, glancing at him as he pulls into the small gravel lot. The cabin in front of us is bathed in soft, golden light, the warm glow spilling out from the windows and onto the porch.

“I figured we deserved something special tonight,” he says, cutting the engine and turning to me. “Something just for us.”

He helps me out of the truck, and as we step onto the porch, I catch the faint scent of cedar and the soft hum of music playing inside. When he pushes open the door, I’m greeted by the sight of a cozy, romantic retreat. A fire crackles in the stone fireplace, casting flickering shadows across the room. A bottle of champagne waits on the table, alongside a tray of chocolate-covered strawberries.

The bed is tucked into a corner, draped in white linens with an intricately embroidered quilt folded at the foot. A vase of wildflowers sits on the nightstand, their fragrance mingling with the woodsy scent of the cabin.

“Owen,” I whisper, turning to him. “This is… perfect.”

His hands slide around my waist, pulling me close. “I can’t take all the credit,” he says with a soft smile. “My boss helped me arrange it. The owners were more than happy to set this up for us when they heard it was for our wedding night.”

I blink back tears, overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness. “You really thought of everything.”

He shrugs, but his expression is filled with pride. “You deserve everything. I wanted tonight to be unforgettable, for both of us.”

I glance at the champagne, the strawberries, the wildflowers—all of it feels so thoughtful, so personal. “You’re perfect,” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion.

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