So I totally didn't realize it had been over a month since I've updated and for that, my friends, I am so sorry. Holy cow. It's been forever. Mostly that's been because of school. I'm finally getting to the classes involving my major and they've been so ridiculously time consuming. Also, it's been because of a beautiful man named Tom Hardy. I've become so obsessed with him. It's true. In the last four months I think I've seen and/or bought every movie he's ever made. He's just such a wonderful actor and he's so pretty as a bonus.

Well, Mr. Hardy came out with a movie a few months ago called Lawless based on this kickass book The Wettest County in the World by Matt Bondurant. Immediately after seeing it, I published a story, A Man Worth a Legend, in the Lawless fandom and have been preoccupied with it ever since. You should check it out.

However, my obsession with Tom and Lawless does not mean I've forgotten you all. In fact, I think I'm subconsciously taking so long between updates because I'm trying to prolong the ending. I love this story. This is probably my favorite work out of everything I've ever written. I just love Christopher so much. And I love Danni, too. And I love their story together. As we're nearing the end I'm finding it increasingly harder to picture not writing for this story. It's hard to imagine that it will eventually end.

So here's another chapter and I hope it's a fluffy as you all wanted. Again, heaps of thanks to anyone who has supported this story, whether through reviewing or favoriting or simply reading it. I love you all. A shout out to: TheDeLorean, ThinkPinkThink80s, Dawnie-7, Carlaxoxo, BreakandBurn, CuteSango07, omguhavebrowneyes, Willow, eyeballsgirl, Melody3180, Michoou, oneoffifteenhundred, SMBlover, Guest, and Jane R. Doe. It is because of you guys that we have managed to reach OVER TWO HUNDRED reviews. HOLY COW. I was so stoked when I saw that I literally did a jig around my living room. I love you guys so much and I cannot thank you enough.

The wedding was perfect. There were a few bumps, of course. My hair wouldn't stay in the up-do we'd planned for. The flower girl, my second cousin Lucy, got sick an hour before the wedding. None of Christopher's family came. Gordie's allergies were bothering him and he sneezed through the entire ceremony. And when objections were called for, Teddy stood up in his pew and shouted, "I object, dogfaces! She's all mine! Ha, just kiddin', Chambers. You can have her."

So, all in all, the wedding was definitely eventful but still perfect. After the ceremony, everyone gathered in the pasture behind the church for the modest reception.

"I still can't believe we're married," I giggled, giddy with a childlike excitement. Behind me, Christopher chuckled, "Believe it, baby."

We stood off to the side of tables hiding from the massive crowd behind our towering wedding cake, a gift from Aunt Cassidy. His arms were around my torso, my back pressed to his chest. Our hands were folded together and I couldn't help but feel like I was going to burst from happiness as I gazed at our joined wedding rings. We did it. Chris pressed a kiss to my cheek, "Are you hungry or anything? Want me to get you a drink?"

"No," I murmured. I didn't want him to leave my side.

We stood like that for a while, watching our friends and family as they mingled amongst one another. So far there hadn't been any fights, no little family squabbles, but we were still waiting. He and I had bet five dollars over who would start the first fight. I said it would be my Uncle Eddie. He thought it would be my cousin Marla. But eventually our hiding spot was found.

Gordie ambled over, a cup in hand, his red nose shining like Rudolph's. "Damn, I can't believe you guys actually did it."

"I can," said Teddy Duchamp as he and Vern made their way over. "We always knew these two were gonna get together, huh, Vern-o?"

Vern grinned sincerely. "Yeah, we did. Congratulations, guys. I'm really happy for you."

"Thanks, Vern," I smiled, a wave of nostalgia washing over me. "Can you guys remember the last time we were all like this? Together, I mean."

My boys all grinned impishly. Teddy gave a half-shrug, "I remember, I just don't think I was high then."

Christopher rose an eyebrow. "Are you high now?"

Teddy snorted and pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. "The better question, Chambers, is when am I not high?"

My mouth fell open and I reached out to slap his arm. "I cannot believe you came to my wedding high. What the hell is wrong with you, Duchamp?"

"Hey, whoa," he held up his arms in surrender. "Sorry, Mrs. Chambers, calm down."

"Damn," whistled Gordie. "Mrs. Chambers…"

Chris frowned. "I still think you should've kept your last name," he told me quietly. I shook my head, "Nope. I want your name. Because it is your name, not just your family's. And I think it's a damn good name."

"So when's this kid of yours due, Danni?" asked Teddy as he stole Gordie's drink.

"Hey, man!" protested Lachance, but it was useless. Teddy was already downing the cup's contents. Gordon sneered, "Just so you know, I sneezed in that cup a few times. I hope you enjoy the taste of my snot."

Teddy licked his lips, discarding the cup. "It was delightful. Thanks, Lachance."

Vern rolled his eyes. "It's nice to see some things never change."

Chris agreed with a laugh and Teddy repeated his question. "The baby'll be born sometime in December," I replied proudly.

"Aw, a Christmas baby," grinned Vern. His arms tightening around me, Christopher beamed, "You guys will be there, right?"

Everyone made reassuring sentiments and once more we were congratulated, Teddy and Vern 'skinning it' with Chris. In that moment it was like nothing had ever changed, like we'd never grown up and grown apart. It was like we were still those five stupid kids hanging out just for the sake of being friends. It was like we were at the tree house, playing cards and shooting the breeze. It was like the world was still ours to conquer together.

I could feel water swelling in my eyes as I smiled at my friends. But, thankfully, before the tears could begin to fall, it was time to dance. A space had been cleared under the large white tent we'd rented for the reception. Christopher and I danced first, our friends and family clapping joyfully as we twirled in the grass. The father-daughter and mother-son dances were next but as Chris's mom hadn't show, my mother danced with him instead. It was actually a very sweet moment and by the end of the song both my mother and I were in tears. While I thought it was tacky, Gordon insisted that we do the 'dollar dances.' Traditionally, it's a dance were our guests pay a dollar or two and in return they get to dance with one of us for a few minutes. Those who wanted to dance with Chris paid Gordo, since he was the best man; and in respect, those who wanted to dance with me, paid the maid of honor, Angie.

I danced with Teddy first, then my cousin Patrick, Vern, my problem-causing Uncle Eddie, once again with my dad, and finally with Gordo himself. Christopher danced with Aunt Cassidy, Angie, my cousins Rachel and Marla, and Vern's cousin, Peggy, whom he'd brought as his date. When the 'dollar dances' were over, several other couples joined us on the dance floor and the reception continued. By then, my feet were killing me and I practically fell into Chris's arms.

"Told you, you should've gone barefoot," he teased. I cut my eyes at him, "Shut up."

"Want to sneak off?" he suggested, eyeing the crowd for the best escape route. All I could do was nod lamely. Chuckling, Chris led me through the tables and chairs, toward the drinks before we swiftly ducked and ran behind the cake table. Only this time, we kept going, fleeing into the back of the church. We collapsed into the front pew and stared at the altar were we'd just been wed, our hands clasped together in my lap. It was a serene moment for both of us. We'd always sorta known we'd end up here, but neither one of us predicted it would be under these circumstances.

He squeezed my hand softly. "You're my wife," he muttered with such a profound awe that my heart seized in my chest. It was as if he couldn't fathom the fact that I'd chosen to marry him.

"Yep. This is it, babe. You're stuck with me now," I winked. "Well, actually, you were kinda stuck with me when we found out I was pregnant…but this just makes it more official, don't you think?"

Chris grinned and shook his head. "You're mental sometimes, you know that? I am not stuck with you. I'm so lucky that you're stuck with me."

"We're stuck to each other. How about that?" I settled. Chris agreed and began playing with the skirt of my wedding dress, "Incase I haven't already said it, you look beautiful."

"You don't look so bad yourself, handsome," I muttered, biting my bottom lip. That was such an awful understatement. Christopher looked absolutely delectable in his tux. The top bottoms were undone on his white shirt, his tie hanging loose from the dancing. His neatly combed hair was beginning to go wild and there was a slight sheen on sweat on his brow. Suddenly, I was thinking very naughty thoughts. Thoughts so inappropriate for a church that I momentarily worried that I might abruptly go down in flames.

"You okay, baby? Your face looks like a tomato."

Once again, I told him to shut up and slipped off my shoes. Flexing my toes, I pulled my feet onto the pew beside me and snuggle into Chris's arm. "Do you feel married, yet?"

He paused thoughtfully for a moment. "Not yet, I don't think. I'm definitely excited and so incredibly happy, Danni, that you're my wife…but I don't think it's really hit me. Not yet. I'm a husband. I'm your husband and soon I'm going to be a father."

"It's happening a lot faster than I thought it would," I admitted softly.

"I know. Me too," he said. His forefinger slipped under my chin and he titled my face toward his. Gorgeous, soul-wrenching blue eyes bore into mine. "You don't have to be scared about this, you know…I'm going to take care of you."

My heart fluttered and I gave a small smile. "I know, baby. I know."

He pressed his lips to mine.

The wedding was a week ago and so far married life was a breeze. Little to nothing had changed between Christopher and me except that we now wore matching rings on our left hands and both felt more in love than ever; though we both secretly felt like the concept of marriage hadn't fully dawned on us, yet. We were currently in what would soon be the baby's room. Chris was building shelves and securing them along the far wall. I was busy arranging the sheets for the crib and hanging up curtains.

"Don't forget we have an appointment with the doctor on Tuesday and the meeting with the delivery specialist from Chamberlain next week," I reminded him. A low curse emitted from his lip. I spun on him, the crib bumper forgotten. "You forgot to ask off work, didn't you?"

"No, I just-Mr. Holt was busy-"

"Christopher! You are the one who said you wanted to go to all the-!"

"I know, I know, I know," he rushed, setting aside the shelves. He dashed to my side and took my hands in his, fearing that I was going to get worked up again, a bad habit I'd fallen into lately. I blame the pregnancy hormones. Chris placed a kiss to my forehead, soothing my glare. "We're married," he said against my brow. "Remember? You're my wife that I love very much. And we're having a baby. Be happy. Stop stressing so much, okay? I'll take care of it. I promise."

"If you say so," I lightly swatted him, my temper swaying. I fought a smile and pushed him away. "The shelves, Christopher."

Chuckling, he held his arms up in surrender and resumed his duties. "Your father was right," my husband muttered moments later.

"Pardon?" I lifted a brow. Chris shot me a broad grin. "Whenever you say my full name I'm in trouble."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes.

By then, everything was all set. Chris got accepted to Oregon, the baby's room was all but ready, and according to the doctors the baby I were both perfectly healthy. Despite this good news I only had another week with Chris before he left for college. This saddened me greatly no matter how hard I tried to rationalize with myself. I knew he'd be home nearly every weekend and was going to stay for at least a week after the baby was born, but I still couldn't shake the utter sadness. He was leaving, a decision I'd forced him to make.

"I always assumed I'd be going with you off to school," I told Christopher one night when we were lying in bed. The house was silent, the sky black outside my window. I allowed my eyes to search the stars and gaze mindlessly at the moon. Steel arms tightened around me. I snuggled deeper into is chest and pulled the blankets higher over us.

"I wish you could come with me."

"Four years," I sighed.

Chris pressed his cheek to the top of my head. He echoed my words sadly and we fell asleep, distressed.

I was woken up several hours later by the neighbor's barking dog. Content to lie in my husband's arms, I merely laid there and brainstormed ideas for the baby's name. Nearly a month before I'd approached Chris with the idea of naming our child Debbie if she was born a little girl. Rather than adoring the thought of naming our daughter after his sister like I assumed he would, he proceeded to get creeped out. "You don't name kids after people who are still living. It's a bad omen or something..."

"Like moons and goochers?" I rolled my eyes. I thought he was being nonsensical but nevertheless moved on.

Cozy in bed, I thought on the subject for hours and eventually, the sun began to rise. A yawn bubbled up my throat as I blinked back from the still growing light. Chris woke up a little after an hour later and rolled over, shielding his eyes. He began murmuring about hating the sun. When he suddenly reached out and pulled the blinds down, I giggled profusely. As my laughter died I ran my fingers lovingly through his hair, "Good morning, baby. Quick question, what do you think about the name Phoebe?"

"We're not naming our child Phoebe."

"Charlotte?"

"No," he groaned, wiping his eyes.

"Juliet?"

"Ugh-ugh."

"Evelyn?"

A brief pause. "Maybe."

"Aw, good! Finally. Alright, boy's names. How about Charles? I love the name Charles, sounds very intelligent."

"Charles Chambers?"

"Good point," I winced. "We could use your middle name. Lee Chambers."

"If we're going to name the baby after one of us, it needs to be you," he said pointedly into the pillow. Reaching over, I brushed my hands over his bare back. The thick muscle felt delightful under my fingertips. I kissed his shoulder. My lips moved across his tanned skin to nibble on the flesh of his neck. Chris rumbled happily, still muffled by the pillow. "Mhmm, good morning…good, good morning."

"I'm hungry," I told him. "Go make me food."

The beautiful boy snorted. He propped up on one elbow. A haughty look was shot my way, as if to say, 'Yeah, right.' I did my best to grin sweetly and pointed at my stomach. "Your child is hungry."

His jaw slackened. "Oh, you're evil."

"Thank you, Chambers." I pecked his nose with a kiss. The corners of his lips tilted upward into a bit of a smile and he murmured, "You're welcome," before claiming my mouth with his own. Christopher kissed me like it was the last thing he'd ever get to do on Earth. He kissed me so passionately and yet so tenderly all at once that I wasn't sure whether I wanted to shout or cry in happiness. There was simply nothing else in the world like kissing Christopher. My Christopher. My husband.

We remained like that, coiled in one another's arms, our mouths forever locked, for what felt like hours.

"You're hungry," he muttered against my lips sometime later, his warm palm cupping my cheek. He was speaking more so to himself than he was to me. "I'm supposed to be getting you food."

Running my fingers up the back of his neck and through his hair, I drew him closer. "You're food," I mumbled. I nipped gently at his bottom lip and felt him smile.

"Am I?" He rolled so that he was hovering over me, careful not to put too much weight on me; or, more appropriately, my stomach. Chris was forever cautious in regards to the baby. Leaning down, he pressed his lips firmly to mine, his tongue sweeping out for a small taste. I hummed happily, my hands clasping his shoulders, "Yes, you are."

Unfortunately, my stomach decided to pick that precise moment to emit a low grumbled and suddenly Christopher was off of the bed. I whined but he pointed at my stomach, effectively silencing me. "Our baby is hungry."

Rolling my eyes, I muttered, "Oh, whatever," as Chris scrambled about the room, pulling on an old tee shirt and shorts. He asked what I felt like eating for breakfast. Snuggling back into the blankets, I huffed, "Surprise me."

There you have it, folks. I hope you enjoyed it. To those who wanted a play-by-play of the wedding, I'm sorry. Go watch the last five minutes of A Walk to Remember. That's essentially how I pictured it.

On a sad note, I was at my little cousin Justin's football game last weekend and these kids were tiny, they were so young. Well, Justin's little sister, who is about their same age, commented on how one of the other team's football players was cute. I kinda snorted and was like, "Go get him, Tiger," because they are so ridiculously young that I couldn't fathom describing one of them as cute. They're little kids, man. That's when I realized that Justin is eleven and the kids he plays with range from ages ten to twelve. About the same age as Chris and the gang were in Stand By Me. I AM SUCH A PERVERT. Oh my goodness, this has done a serious number to my psyche. They were such little kids. Ewww. But Chris still so dang cute. I have deduced that there is something seriously wrong with me.

Has this happened to any of you? Please say yes because I so don't want to be alone on this. I'll feel even worse.