No Shit, Sherlock

Happily Ever After

I spin the wedding rings on my finger nervously as I sit in my chair. Sherlock enters the room, his pocket watch in his hand. "It's almost time."

"I don't think I want to do this anymore."

He kneels down in front of me, taking my hands in his. "It'll be fine. You've done this before, and I'll be right there beside you."

"We'll all be there for you," Enola says.

A man enters the room, "It's time."

Enola, Tewkesbury, and Timothée leave the room. I stare at Sherlock in fear, "How many people are out there?"

"A lot."

He stands up and helps me to my feet. I begin to pace around the room, my anxiety causing me to feel nauseous. Sherlock steps in front of me, "It's okay. Everything will be fine."

The same man from before steps into the room. "We're all waiting for you, Mrs. Holmes."

Sherlock hands me a book, the very book this whole event is about. My fingers trace the leather spine slowly as a smile makes its way onto my face.

"Let's go meet your adoring fans."

I nod, and Sherlock and I leave the room. The man leads us through a hallway, and we stop. I give my husband one last nervous look, and he smiles. The two of us step out onto the small stage, and the crowd in front of us begins to cheer.

Sherlock leaves me to sit in the front row, next to our family and friends. I stand at the podium by myself now, my eyes darting around the crowd nervously. The cheering quiets down, and I take in a shaky breath.

"Thank you all for coming today," I say.

The crowd claps, and I smile.

"Believe it or not, I actually have a huge fear of public speaking. So, I apologize for my nervousness."

"We love you!" Tewkesbury and Timothée yell.

I roll my eyes with a smile, "And I love you both as well."

My shaking hands rest on the cover of the book propped up on the podium.

"I hadn't intended on publishing this book as it's much different than my previous ones. It's an entirely new genre and an unfamiliar style of writing for me," I say.

I watch the curious people in front of me. There are way more people here than there were at my first book signing.

"I still can't believe this book is a work of my own. I'm a poet, not a romance writer," I say with a laugh.

My eyes drift over to Sherlock, who sits in front of me with a proud smile. I smile back at him, "Although, I had the greatest inspiration for this book. The very man this entire book is written about, my wonderful husband, Sherlock Holmes."

The crowd "awes" at my words, and I smile at my husband. His blue eyes hold nothing but love as he stares back at me. I begin to feel that familiar fluttering in my stomach, and I'm reminded of the first time I met the man.

"I used to hate romance. Fairy tales would make me roll my eyes, but now I've grown to love them. Because I finally got my happily ever after, with the man of my dreams. And when you read this book, I hope you'll all learn to love romance too."

I take another deep breath, "And now I will read the book you're all here for."

I pause dramatically to stare at Sherlock. He shakes his head with a smile.

I hold the book up. The gold writing on the front shines brightly.

"Here it is, my best book yet. 'No Shit, Sherlock'."

|THE END|