Chapter Text
Two Years Later
Winter
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Feyre: Hey.
Rhys: Hey.
Feyre: You wanna get married tomorrow?
Rhys: Darling, I thought you’d never ask.
Feyre: <3
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If I had been told I’d wake up the day of my wedding feeling equally forlorn and excited, I would never have believed it. My life had always seemed to be a complex swell of different emotions competing and contradicting one another in unison, so really I shouldn’t have been so surprised. Regardless, my phone beeped - or rather, Mor’s did, and not so gently either - and my eyes opened as I recognized that subtle sinking feeling I only experienced every now and then these days.
Mor rolled over, a huge grin already plastered to her face as she poked me. “Who’s getting married today?” Her touched moved to boop my nose. Anyone watching would have assumed I was a two-year-old. “You are!”
I snorted and shoved the pillow out from under me to whack her with it. “You’re ridiculous,” I said.
“Always have been. Come on!”
She bounded out of bed in a great leap, a newborn puppy ready to chase the wind. No going back now.
“I’m not even awake yet.” My protests were lost on her. “What happened to the Mor I used to know? The one who hated mornings with a passion?!”
“You’re the one who wanted to do the breakfast thing.”
I groaned. I had made that call. At the time, 6:30am hadn’t seemed so awful. At the time, I hadn’t been jet lagged and living on another continent.
Mor jittered around the room, still a little chilly from the unusual mid-winter weather SoCal had gotten this season, and pulled on a comfy assortment of sweats and socks before finally plopping down on the bed right at my feet. She extended her arms, fingers wiggling like a jazz concert about to begin.
“Let’s see ‘em, sunshine. Up, up, up!”
I sighed, more for show than anything, and grabbed hold. Mor pulled me up easily. Nothing was going to stop her today, not even my sorry ass dead weight.
“I’ll be more awake after breakfast, I promise.”
“You had better be. You’re sure you’re still up for it?”
“Yeah, I think so. It should be nice.”
The truth was, it didn’t matter if I was up for breakfast with Rhys’s dad or not. I needed to talk to him before I walked down the proverbial aisle. There was simply no other way I could do it without some one-on-one time with the man I still didn’t really know all too deeply.
Since I had proposed an early breakfast on my own with Rhys’s dad, mom had surprised me by asking Rhys if he’d like to join her for a separate get together as well. Not wanting to drag him all the way downtown to her city apartment and hassel traffic, she’d made reservations at a local cafe she’d always preferred. I’d chosen a much simpler American classic: IHOP. Also known as the International House of Pancakes, lest I forget after spending three years in the heart of central London.
Even though I had plenty of time to really primp myself up for this afternoon, I still spent a good chunk of time in front of the mirror getting ready. Rhys and I hadn’t set a specific time for our small, short ceremony figuring we could just wing it. Half the guests had stayed over at Rhys’s house anyway - Mor and Az, Cassian and Nesta - so there really wasn’t much to fuss over. Just so long as I looked halfway decent and appropriate to wolf down some scrambled eggs with bacon in front of Rhys’s dad. The man still made me nervous occasionally, so I wanted to feel as confident as possible. Especially going into the conversation I had in mind.
Hair up in an easy bun that seemed trendy with my “winter” neck scarf, I crept downstairs in a clean pair of skinny jeans and an oversize sweater I wore on the rare opportunity to dress casually at work. London had no concept of casual Fridays, so those chances were few and far between.
Rhys’s dad was sipping coffee and reading the paper on the couch. The image of him with the black and white papers spread over his lap accompanied by the soft crinkling noise when he turned the page struck as me as so typically dad, I halted on the stairs. My heart lurched as I stood there and simply watched him for a moment, taking him in. A wave of nostalgia came over that I just wasn’t prepared for.
“Feyre?”
I jumped, pulled out of my thoughts, and found Rhys standing on the other side of the banister watching me. His hair had been freshly washed and was already halfway to drying, and he had opted for pressed pants and a traditional button-down, very put together for a morning out with mom. Maybe I wasn’t the only one feeling nervous.
At Rhys’s call, his dad looked up from his paper and stretched. “You kiddos up already?” Although never quite so friendly and open as my dad had been, his face was kind and warm today. And the unusual kiddo remark was like an extra battering at my heart, one that I had finally learned how to welcome and cherish instead of running scared from as I would have years ago.
“Big day today,” he said coming to stand just before me on the stairs. I felt Rhys stand up a little straighter on my other side as his dad looked between us, an odd mixture of business and pleasure in his features. “You mind if I steal your girl for an hour this morning?”
“And here I thought I was the one doing the kidnapping,” I said before Rhys could answer. To my delight, his dad beamed his approval.
“I told you she was a winner,” he said, nodding at Rhys. “Shall we, Feyre?”
“Yes, sir.”
I looked at Rhys, trying my best to give him a clever look that asked when exactly his dad had told him I was “a winner” and what else he might have said, before walking out to the car. I didn’t dare risk a kiss just yet. Some wedding traditions were still sacred, even to me.
The drive was mostly small talk, with which I was completely fine. I’d much rather have some defenses in the form of food and tea in front of me before bringing up the heavier subjects. Thankfully, Rhys’s dad never ran out of things to say. A businessman to the core, he was used to keeping conversations rolling when they felt stagnant. The weather, new brakes on the car, turbulence on the plane rides, we didn’t even get to anything wedding related until the chatty waitress named Cindy had taken our drink order at the restaurant.
Rhys’s dad said nothing after Cindy left. She came back not even two minutes later with our drinks - an iced tea for me, the non-coffee drinker, and a strong black coffee for him - and still he didn’t say anything. It was his eyes that did the talking, piercing me with a hazel color nothing like the violet in Rhys’s. He must have gotten the coloring from his mom and I’d never noticed. They looked alike in almost every other way.
Before I could lose too much of my courage, I cleared my throat and found the words tumbling awkwardly out of my mouth. “Thank you for coming out with me this morning,” I said, wishing I sounded more sure of myself. It felt so important to me that I impress him, even now. “I really appreciate it.”
Rhys’s dad gave a downward smile and shrugged. “Of course. Anything for you, Feyre.”
Anything. Anything for me. That helped.
“I have a small confession to make.”
“Go ahead.”
“I didn’t ask you to come to breakfast entirely for kicks and giggles.”
A wry half smile appeared, another good sign. He didn’t seemed shocked at all to hear me admit the truth. “I’m neither one for kicks nor giggles, so I think you’ve chosen well.”
Unfortunately, Cindy chose that exact moment to reappear and take our food order, sort of killing my momentum. As soon as she’d left again, Rhys’s dad was back to watching me with those razor sharp eyes of his.
“I was wondering if I could ask you something kind of personal. And just so we’re clear, Rhys doesn’t know I’m doing this.”
That caught him off guard. “I suppose so.” He sounded more curious than offended.
“It’s about… Rhys’s mom. His sister too, I suppose. But more so his mom.”
Now, his gaze softened and for a moment, I felt as though I were watching a man transported elsewhere in time and space. He was no longer sitting with me at an IHOP diner waiting for a fat stack of eggs and pancakes, but sitting far off somewhere else, with someone else. And suddenly, I felt foolish for ever having been afraid to talk to him today. This was Rhys’s dad. And Rhys’s dad loved his son beyond anything. And he knew what it meant to lose love like that more than once in a lifetime. I had nothing to be scared of anymore.
He leaned forward, fingers curling around the coffee mug in front of him, and very intently said, “Ask away.”
The instantaneousness of his emotion, his genuine spirit threw me off. I almost wasn’t sure where to start. Luckily, I’d prepared questions ahead of time to save myself the trouble.
“What was she like?”
That seemed the easiest, safest place to start. All at once, an untempered sea of joy ruptured to life in the man’s eyes. He could have been twenty, thirty years younger just from whatever memories had struck him from my mere question.
“She was victorious ,” he said. “In everything that she did. She had no fears and whatever obstacles stood in her way, she conquered them with a relentless attitude unlike anything I’d ever seen in anybody else. I used to joke with her that she should have worked for me, that my business would have flourished under a firm and determined hand like her own, but she would have nothing to do with my schemes. Too much like Rhys in that way. Off on her own track, following her own beat. At least I managed to snag Mor.”
“You didn’t mind?”
Rhys’s dad laughed, the boldest sound I’d ever heard from him. “Mind? Oh no, she was too wild and carefree for me to mind her rejections. I knew when Rhys wanted to study international law it would be the same. I tried at first to keep him closer than that, but… his sister would have been the one.”
I bristled, willing my breath to remain still. “Was she much like you?”
Pride swirled on his face. “Yes. Except that she looked just like her mom and had her adventurous spirit.”
“And now you have Rhys, and he doesn’t look much like either of them, does he?”
I wasn’t sure why I’d let the words escape. They immediately seemed like the wrong thing to say. Rhys’s dad wasn’t upset to hear them, merely curious once more, regarding me like a case study. “No,” he said. “I suppose not.”
Cindy made another one of her timely arrivals carrying hot plates of our food. I welcomed the distraction to push the scrambled heap of eggs around on my plate and pour hot syrup over the pancakes for a while before braving my next and most important question. Rhys’s dad was ready for it, waiting to tuck in until I’d asked. I took a breath.
“How did you get over losing them?”
I spilled the words out one by one, leaving no time for my brain to change course and choose something else, something safer. I wanted to bleed openly and find the solution, as I’d learned to do. To no longer run from what still ached deep in my bones in the middle of the night.
Rhys’s dad looked more than simply sorrowful. There was something else I couldn’t quite spot at first, something similar to pity, but much less judgemental. It was perhaps the purest form of empathy, of shared experience and torment, that two people might ever know. At long last, he shook his head with a tower of regret and offered simply, “I didn’t.”
It was an answer I had taught myself to prepare for, to expect even. Hearing it in reality made the blow no less worse.
“Do you miss him?” he asked me, so soft, so quiet. And I knew exactly who he meant.
“Yes. Every day. More than I thought I would by this point.”
I was no longer ashamed to say my lips quivered. Only disappointed they still did after all this time.
Rhys’s dad shook his head gruffly, but when he reached across the table and took my hand, I felt safe. “You will never stop missing him. Accept that now. Allow your heart to understand, Feyre.” A cold splash hit my plate below, sprinkling my bacon with some extra salt it didn’t need. “I have never stopped missing my wife, my little girl . I revisit the accident every day in some form or another. And what everyone tells you is a lie - time will not make it easier. You won’t find that the pain dulls or the grief abates. In many ways, it gets stronger.
“But what you do find instead are new ways to live and love and take those people with you. He’s not gone, Feyre. He lived and now you live, and so does Rhys. Your pain does not always have to exist to hurt you.”
I tried to speak and the words promptly choked. Still, I wasn’t afraid. “I was nervous that I wouldn’t be able to have this day without him. It didn’t matter for my sisters that he wasn’t there, but dad meant a lot more to me than he did to either of them.”
“And now?”
“And now… I’m glad that you are here. I’m glad you agreed to come, that you trust me enough with your son to send him off with me when you’ve already seen so many others leave. And I’m grateful you let Rhys go. I love him so much. So very, very much. I could not live this life without him.”
A squeeze of pressure on my hand and Rhys’s dad broke into a smile before taking his napkin and wiping at my face, exactly as a dad ought to. “There you go,” he said. “You’re already doing what I’ve told you.”
“I am?”
“Mhm. Not allowing your pain at your dad’s death to hurt you. You’re living . I hope you always continue to do so. Now tell me about this afternoon.”
I stuck my fork into a bite of pancakes now well soaked in syrup, finally ready to take a bite. “I’d love to.”
Everything went a million times faster once I’d gotten back to Rhys’s house feeling much lighter than I had before I’d left it. Rhys’s dad winked at me before disappearing upstairs to get ready, with Rhys popping out of his old basement room a moment later. He’d already gotten the tux on. I started to smile and move his way, the image of him standing so tall and lean in his wedding garb throwing all sorts of hormones out of whack, when Mor caught me and screamed about it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding! And rushed me promptly upstairs.
We weren’t even close to ready for a long while after that. Mom was taking care of both Daisy and Lily so that Elain and Lucien could come over early and help everyone get ready. I had no idea how my sister was going to manage the tiny hellions when little Fern came along in the fall to join his sisters in their mayhem.
Nesta joined Mor and I upstairs as soon as Elain popped over. And even though we were all here, I steadily heard the noise downstairs increase, catching my attention every now and then.
Elain squeezed my shoulders as I sat at the bathroom mirror watching Mor carefully apply my makeup. My hair had already been styled - simple braids woven together in knots at the base of my neck. “You’ll be great,” Elain said. “Don’t worry.”
“I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” I replied, though not without a smile.
“It’s your wedding day, silly. Of course you’re nervous. We all were for ours.”
“Even Nesta?” I arched a skeptical brow at my oldest sister who had crammed herself into the bathroom with all three of us without (much) complaint.
“Yes, yes, even me, dipshit.” Mor snorted and Nesta’s eyes slashed over to her. “What?” she demanded brutally.
Mor snickered. “I hope you call Cassian a dipshit too. Especially when he’s trying to woo you with his weird, romantic bullshit.” She looked at Nesta and couldn’t hold back the laughter any longer. Nesta cracked a brief smile and the four of us lost ourselves in the fun of spending the afternoon together, just us girls.
Really, the rest of the day was rather simple. We’d all dressed ourselves up, going as all out as we pleased, which meant Rhys opted for his tux even as I wore a simple, plain dress that just reached my toes, gathered at the low open back, and walked barefoot across the grass of Rhys’s backyard to meet him. His dad was already registered from Mor and Az’s wedding, so as the winter sun beat down on us and Lily ardently chased her big sister around the yard, Rhys and I held hands and finally said I do . We had written down our own vows, but Rhys had asked that we save them for later this evening when he had a special surprise planned.
“You really won’t tell me?” I asked en route to the door.
“Not a chance,” he said, flicking me on the nose.
It was well into the night by that point, late enough that normally our parents would have already said their goodbyes and turned in. Both of them had stayed, as had my siblings and our chosen little family. The kids were inside fast asleep while everyone else drank champagne and wine and munched on leftover barbeque Rhys’s dad had fired up after Rhys had kissed me at our outdoor altar.
“Oooh, be safe and have so much fun and tell me everything .” Mor held on to me with a force to be reckoned with.
“Relax,” I said, shoving her off and then just giving in to the fierceness that was my hurricane of a best friends. “You’ll see us tomorrow.”
“I know, I know. I’m just excited to have a weekend together, all of us again, you know? It’s been so long.”
Looking around, I saw what she was talking about. Cassian and Az were each holding a glass and chatting with Rhys’s dad looking exactly as happy and chummy as they had the day they’d shown up with Rhys on my doorstep to help me move. Lucien had one arm around Elain on the bench chair, his other resting sweetly on her growing tummy while Nesta talked about her upcoming semester teaching. Even seeing mom sitting on Elain’s other side looking ready to doze off brought the reality of the moment to the forefront: this was my family. I’d chosen them every one and they’d chosen me right back.
“Yeah,” I finally said. “I do know what you mean.”
Mor hugged me again, no getting away from it, and then reached up and kissed Rhys on the cheek. “Bring her back in one piece, young man!”
Rhys rolled his eyes. “You ready, darling?”
“Absolutely.”
“Ooh- ooh! ” Cassian catcalled us all the way to the door, making kissy faces at us as we went.
“Cassian!” I chided over my shoulder and had just managed to hear him toss back, “I won’t bite!” before the door clicked shut and we were on our own.
Rhys kept his secret quiet for a long time. Los Angeles was such a huge and varied city, there was no telling where we were going until we got off the freeway and I noticed him turn toward the signs for the hills.
I inclined my head at him, surprised. “Griffith Park?”
His trademark cat’s smile slid into place. It was now my smile forever more. “There’s a meteor shower tonight.”
“Really? How convenient.”
“Why do you think I suggested we wait until February 1st to get hitched, hmm?” I laughed, shaking my head in protest, but it was useless. Rhys ascended the hills up toward the observatory. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s perfect.”
We parked and found ourselves quickly lost in a sea of star-gazers who’d had the same idea we had, except none of them were quite so fancily dressed. Rhys popped the trunk of the car, unloading a wicker basket and blankets. “You really thought of everything didn’t you?” I said impressed. Even for someone as extra as Rhys, this was pretty damn impressive.
Rhys pulled one of my oversize sweaters I hadn’t seen hiding in the trunk and offered it. I held my arms up as he slid it on me over my white dress, his face landing very close to mine when he was done. “Of course I did, darling,” he purred before kissing right below my ear. Shivers broke out over my skin. The night was cold. I somehow didn’t mind. “Feyre, my wife .”
“Mmm, well doesn’t that sound delicious?”
He grinned and whispered low. “Say it.”
I leaned up and kissed him, his mouth hot and welcoming against mine. “My husband ,” I said. I could hear the purr in Rhys’s chest.
“Come on,” he said, and together we loaded up the blankets and food and made our way to the grassy areas to claim a spot of our own.
The meteors were slow in falling, but once they did, it was a sight to behold. For being a mid-winter night in LA where the lights were numerous and blaring, we got lucky. Everything about Rhys and I had always seemed lucky. The skies were clear and the city had dimmed somehow tonight, just enough, as if the buildings and the freeways had known we would be there to see the show. And what a show it was.
Fast they fell in quick little blurs, darting across the sky. I wondered where they all went and if they’d ever come back one day. If there would be more of them, the same, or maybe fewer. Under the blanket, Rhys and I snuggled close enjoying that we could simply be in this moment. Together. And everything felt suddenly infinite and limitless.
I was sitting there beneath the stars, but I knew it in my heart that wasn’t true. I was one of the stars, up there between them all or maybe even beyond them. I wondered if I had been there this entire time and just hadn’t known. I was there now, though, looking down on this moment - on me, on Rhys, on us - and all the things that had made my life wonderful, both good and bad. And I knew then that my soul was complete. As Rhys and I held hands and the stars blazed by, I knew he’d chosen right: the stars had listened to me all these years and tonight, my very first dream of them all had been answered.
It had been a gift, all of it.
xx