A/N Here's the not-very-long awaited epilogue for my new story Still Standing. Hope you enjoy!
It was a piano, not an organ. No church, outside. The flowers were daisies, the dresses and ties were royal blue. Just 8 chairs sat in front of the arch – Noelle, Frank, baby Lydia, Chris, Dov, Leo and Tommy. She supposed 4 bridesmaids was a little excessive for a wedding this small, but there was no way she was going to exclude any of them. She and Gail had actually become friends, both headstrong legacy cops. Traci was an obvious choice for Maid of Honour. She and Sarah had taken an immediate liking to each other and while it was under horrible circumstances, the woman was impossibly hard not to like. And Zoe, well, because although she's not she what she said to Sam, Andy was pretty sure that she's why they're here – matron of honour for a girl who's own mother hadn't even bothered to RSVP.
Jerry, Oliver, and Sarah's husband Corey completed his side.
The doors opened and little Maggie was rocking down the aisle with her flower basket like it was a Milan runway, followed by her older sister, and Sarah's daughter. He saw Tommy before he saw Andy. And everyone laughed as he not-so-subtly craned his neck to get a better look at his fiancée, soon to be wife. And then his jaw dropped and every single person was damn sure that Sam Swarek had never been this happy in his entire life.
She, for her part, had never looked so beautiful. Except, Sam reasoned, when her hair was messy and she was cuddled up in one of his sweaters. Her hair was gently curled, and piled into a low elegant bun. No veil, she had figured they definitely did not need any more barriers between the two of them. It was a strapless gown, sweetheart neckline with slight ruching on the bust that gathered to a delicate beading that extended outwards kind of like the wings of a butterfly on her tight fitting bodice. The dress was simple, it was Andy. No fuss, no poof and certainly no tulle, but innocent and…well, stunning nonetheless.
She looked up at him and her breath caught as she saw her handsome almost husband all suited up. She could tell her was nervous. He was doing that this with his earlobe. Her eyes danced, but her hands shook, she just wanted to run up the damn aisle and kiss him senseless. And her eyes burned with the same happy tears as the night he had practically thrown the cane away and had asked her to marry him, despite barely being able to get on one knee.
Baby steps, but here they were. Still standing. And this time, he was there, on his own two feet, waiting for her to walk.
A/N And there you have it folks! I actually saw this gorgeous dress and tried (and probably failed) to describe it. So here's the link: . #.UEGYrd2PW8A. Also, I've never actually been to a non-Indian wedding, so sorry if I messed up on the exact terminology/practice. ANYWHO, thank you for reading and hopefully write to you soon! :D