Page 86 of Changing the Play

“The… dominos?”

He nods, a bright smile overtaking his face. “Yes. The dominos. All the things that added up and tipped everything over until we landedright here. We need to get married, Darcy. It would be a shame for the dominos to stop here.”

I’m stunned into silence for half a second, then I’m laughing and sitting up, tackling him to the bed and slamming my lips down on his. “Oh my God. Yes. I’ll marry you.”

Weston—1 year later

Elle pats my chest, giving me a smile. “Are you nervous?”

I shake my head. “About getting married? No. About seeing my dad? Possibly.”

She nods, a solemn expression on her face. “We won’t let him cause drama.”

“I know. Thank you.” I lean over and press a kiss to her cheek.

My dad showed up at my graduation last year, and even though I expected the worst, he apologized and wanted to make amends. We’re taking tiny baby steps toward a relationship. Part of me keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to come in with the asshole routine, but so far, he hasn’t. I’m hopeful it’ll stay that way, especially today.

I follow Elle from the room and meet Darcy in the hallway leading into the venue. His suit is fitted and crisp and he looks so fucking gorgeous that I’m worried my legs won’t hold me up. He takes a step toward me, his shoulders rising and falling quickly. I glance down and my lips twitch into a smile when I realize his tie is a little crooked. Parker must have noticed it at the same time as me because they grab Darcy and spin him around, fixing it and patting his cheek.

When Darcy makes his way to me, we stand in front of one another, drinking each other in for a few minutes. Everyone clears out and walks away, joining the rest of our guests.

“You ready?” I ask, breaking the silence.

Darcy nods. “So ready.”

I take his hand and turn, leading him through the double doors and down the aisle toward the officiant who’s marrying us.

The crowd is small—our families and a few close friends. The people who matter most to us. It’s simple and lowkey and so perfectly us that my eyes and nose burn with the threat of incoming tears. Darcy sniffles beside me as we make it to the front of the room.

I barely hear the standard vows, barely hear myself repeating them, barely hear anything because all I can focus on is the sweet way Darcy smiles when he says, “I do.” How that smile grows when I say the same.

My blood is rushing through my ears when I vaguely hear that I can kiss my groom. And kiss my fucking groom, I do. It’s probably a little indecent, and I’ll remember to be embarrassed about that later, but for now, all that exists is Darcy’s soft lips, the hitch in his breath, and the growing grin I can feel against my own.

Darcy-4 years later

I blink down at my phone, reading the wordsPhD conferredover and over again.

That’s it. The culmination of years of work and study and late nights and endless revisions, and West’s gentle voice telling me to keep going—that I’ve got it, that I can do it.

PhD conferred.

Something wet hits my face and I swipe at it, realizing that it’s tears. A huge smile spreads across my face and I exit off the email, pulling up my text thread with West as I make my way to my car.

Me

I’m on my way home. Are you there?

I have a response before I’ve even gotten my key in the ignition.

West

Ready and waiting, baby.

I’m giddy, half excitement and half relief, and all of me ready to get home to my husband.

When I pull into the driveway, West is waiting outside, a bottle of champagne in his hand. I jump out of the car and rush to him, not stopping until I’m slamming into his body. He chuckles, wrapping his free arm around me and squeezing me half to death. “You did it.”

“I did it,” I whisper, my voice cracking.

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