Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
And I am grateful.
On New Year’s Eve, we disco ‘til dawn with the old folks at the senior center with Holly’s friend, Candy, and her lumberjack boyfriend. I allow Candy to glue a giant fake moustache on my upper lip and call me “Mr. Porn Stache” for the duration of the evening, and she agrees to forgive me for being a jerk the first time we met.
And I am grateful.
By Valentine’s Day, Holly and I have closed on a charming farmhouse just down the road from her parents—close enough for easy visits, far enough that there’s no chance of them hearing the noises coming from our bedroom, come summer when we’ll need to leave the windows open. The house is too old for air-conditioning, a thing Cheeks insists is for the best. Air conditioning gives him headaches.
He gives me a headache sometimes—once he has your ear, he’s a chatty thing—but he’s already become something more than a pet.
He’s family.
And I am grateful.
By summer, Holly and I have finally finished the kitchen renovation and celebrate with a trip to the seashore in Maine. I book a suite with a view of the ocean and hire a private chef to make us dinner on the balcony.
A chef who is also a skilled amateur photographer…
The stunning images she captures of my proposal are things I will always cherish. I frame my favorite—Holly beaming down at me with a huge smile as I kneel at her feet—and hang it on the wall leading up the stairs to our bedroom.
And I am grateful.
Summer bleeds into a glorious fall with leaves so dazzling that it breaks my heart a little to look at them. Since Holly came into my life, beauty affects me in ways it never did before. It hurts and heals and inspires me to fight to preserve it for the generations that will come after.
I take steps to reduce the carbon footprints of all my businesses and shut down two arms of the conglomerate completely. I increase my donations to local charities, fund a new wing for the hospital, and invest heavily in several area rescue farms. I will make millions less than I made last year, but I already have more than any man could spend in a lifetime.
More importantly, I have her.
And I am grateful.
December arrives again, bringing with it the day I’ve been looking forward to more than I can express.
Our wedding.
We chose a spot in the woods near the estate, a clearing surrounded by towering pines that feels more holy than any church.
The night before our vows, it snows, just enough to cover the ground in fresh flakes that sparkle like diamonds in the afternoon light. Flaming torches line the aisle, and fire pits are placed strategically throughout the seating area to keep our guests warm. A fifteen-foot decorative pine arch crafted by the same chainsaw artist responsible for the Silver Bell Falls manger scene stands at the front, a work of art I commissioned months ago.
Because I want us to have a permanent reminder of this day and of our love. A place we can hopefully bring our children someday and tell them this is where it happened, where their mother made their father the happiest man in the world.
My brothers stand beside me at the altar, with Cheeks in a tiny tuxedo of his very own, beaming from Elliot’s shoulder.
Then, Willow begins to play her harp, and everyone stands.
And…there she is, stepping out of the tent we set up to keep the bride warm, looking so beautiful, it’s hard to believe she’s real.
As she starts down the dark green velvet runner on her father’s arm behind Candy and Kayla, I forget how to breathe.
Her dress is ivory with faux fur trim at the cuffs and hem. Her dark curls are swept up in a magnificent pile atop her head, dotted with tiny white flowers. She’s absolutely stunning, but it’s the look in her eyes that overwhelms me. She looks every bit as overjoyed to be marrying me as I am to be marrying her.
And I am so grateful that “grateful” isn’t a strong enough word to describe it.
I am…indebted.
I owe this woman my life. I was only half alive before I met her, a grumpy, Grinch of a man with a heart in desperate need of faith and hope.
I tell her as much in our vows.
I tell her that she will always be my light, that I will fight to the death to defend her good heart, and that loving her is the greatest honor any man could hope for.
Then, she spills her beautiful soul into the air in vows so honest and real that by the time she’s through, tears are streaming down my face.
Then Nancy, our officiant, declares us husband and wife, we kiss, the people who love us applaud, and we head back to the mansion to celebrate.