Becoming Mrs. Box

Epilogue

A/N: I just want to take a moment and say thank you to all those who have commented and favorited this story. I honestly had no idea so many of you would like a silly story about a fast food mascot. I also wasn't going to write this epilogue, but you all inspired me!

Kiss kiss, hug hug, Possum loves you all!
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You were going to die.

Well, maybe not actually. But it sure felt like it. You tried to keep your breathing even, hands twisting in the fabric of your dress as you stared at the mahogany doors in front of you.

The whole situation felt intimately familiar. After all, this was the second time you stood in front of heavy wooden doors, facing a life-altering change.

At least this time, you knew what was on the other side. Organ music—just like you had planned—drifted through the air, echoing beautifully through the church. You could picture the guests watching as the bridal party marched in. You could picture him, dressed handsomely in his suit, standing at the altar. Waiting for you.

"Stop doing that!" Melissa slapped your hands away from your wedding dress with a scowl. "You're going to wrinkle it," she whispered fiercely.

You grinned sheepishly. "Sorry. Just nervous, you know?"

Your sister rolled her eyes. "We've been planning this for months. Months! You should be perfectly prepared! Here, hold this." She thrust your bridal bouquet into your hands. "At least it'll keep you from tearing up my future wedding dress."

"Oh? Is Kevin planning on asking you so soon?" You couldn't help but tease her about the cute intern she was dating. It seemed inappropriate work relationships ran through your family, because Melissa had been head over heels for Kevin as soon as he stepped into her office.

Melissa shot you a glare, but it held no heat. She opened her mouth to retort, but at that moment the organ swelled and played the cue that proceeded the Maid of Honor's walk down the aisle. Melissa straightened up, throwing you a look and mouthing "Don't be nervous," as she stepped into the sanctuary.

You waited, heart in your throat, as you listened to the music switch keys. The first bars of the Bridal March rang out. There was the sound of pews creaking and clothes rustling as everyone stood.

Here goes nothing.

You stepped into the sanctuary, trying not to feel overwhelmed with all eyes on you. You felt your face grow warm and put all your focus into not tripping on your dress.

Halfway down the aisle and you finally had the courage to look at him.

Jack Box was staring at you like you were the most gorgeous person on the planet. Your heart skipped a beat—it always did whenever you really thought about who it was that you were going to spend the rest of your life with.

Who would've ever thought that a man as sweet, loving, and wonderful as Jack would love a regular, ordinary person like you? It still boggles your mind sometimes.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted the beautiful wooden sign on the front pew. A photo affixed to the sign depicted your mother's smiling face. Your heart squeezed, a thread of grief winding around your chest. You wished she could be here. To see you living your best life. But you were thankful for the time you'd had—she was even able to give Jack her blessing, right before he proposed to you six months ago. She'd passed soon after, but Jack had kept his promise to the very end—every medical bill, every appointment had been payed for.

Speaking of your wonderful soon-to-be husband. Jack stepped forward as you neared the altar, taking your hand and helping you up the steps. You gave him a shy smile as you faced one another, hand in hand, as the preacher began the ceremony.

Jack, of course, said his perfectly. Years of being the spokesperson for a multimillion dollar food chain had given him plenty of experience.

You, on the other hand, had no such talent. You stumbled a few times, face with embarrassment. But Jack's light squeeze on your hand kept you from breaking down completely.

The rings were exchanged and the ceremony was sealed with a kiss.

Some time later, you and Jack were sitting at a table, facing the wedding reception. His arm was around your waist, keeping you snugly against him as the two of you fielded the many congratulatory remarks from the people passing your table. The food was delicious—you were glad you insisted on pasta instead of giving in to Jack's idea of having his restaurant cater the food (you weren't sure of fast food was the best reception fare, no matter what Jack said)—and the decorations were finely done, thanks to your sister.

You were growing tired, having accepted what seemed like thousands of "Congratulations!" and well-wishes from the guests. You just wanted to kick back and relax.

Seeming to sense your mood, Jack leaned down and whispered, "Whaddya say we slip out of here?"

In spite of your exhaustion, you couldn't help but tease, "Oh? Trying to skip to the wedding night so soon?"

Jack hummed lowly, and you fought back a yelp as his hand drifted below your waist. "Ohoho, you're playing a dangerous game, Mrs. Box." He looked down at you with a smoldering expression that made your stomach do somersaults.

Either you were too tired to care, or his attention was making you bold, but you fluttered your eyelashes and snuggles against him even more. "Did I mention that I went shopping a couple of days ago to buy some extra special things, just for tonight?"

You grinned as his face went blank, then grew red at the implications of your words.

"Oh, you are so going to regret riling me up, sweetheart," Jack purred, his voice growing husky in a way that made chills race up and down your spine.

You and Jack most decidedly did not rush out of the reception within the next ten minutes. That would be incredibly rude to your guests.

...but you did maybe sprint to the awaiting car when it was time for the farewell.

As you and your husband drove away from the church, you couldn't help but think about all that led you to this moment.

Who knew that accepting a simple food service job would lead to becoming Mrs. Box?