PAPER WIFE

EPILOGUE

MARK

The music plays.

We begin our march, our daughter and I. ­

People are standing. There are whispers about our daughter's beauty. Her grace.

And so I stand beside our beautiful, radiant daughter on her wedding day, holding back tears, offering her to the boy beside her, the boy who looks at her with stars in his eyes. You, my darling Celia, are in the front row, sitting next to our son, waiting for me to join you. The two maids of honour, our daughter's best friends, so pretty and glowing in their high heels and identical frothy pink dresses, are by the pastor, opposite the boy, and they are beaming and nervous and proud and tearful from the romance and excited about the changes they know will come.

Our daughter clings to my arm. She holds on to my hand tightly, the way she used to do when we crossed the street, when a scary movie was on, when she just wanted to know that I was there and that I loved her.

She looks up at me. I am startled. Suddenly, quite miraculously, she is a grown-­up beautiful woman, the same age you were when you married me, Celia. She looks so much like you, my darling, but I know you and our daughter are separate, unique individuals, yet endowed with the same fierce loyalty, the same loving, giving hearts.

I take my seat beside you, and I look at you. It's okay, you whisper, only for me. She'll be fine. We'll be fine. How well you understand me, Celia, I think, overcome with emotion, and then, you smile, your tears falling freely, and you squeeze my hand, and through my tears, I understand the truth:

No matter what happens, no matter what life brings, you will always be beside me, my Celia, my love, my life, my wife.

The End

Author's Note

Hello, everybody.

How are you? I hope you are in the best of spirits.

Thank you for staying with me to the end.

I have in mind a new book --- do watch this space for details.

All the best,

Ashleigh