Fisher's Light(114)

He leans his head to the side and kisses my cheek, moving his lips to my ear.

“Most of all, I love you because you’re Lucy,” he whispers against my ear. “MY Lucy.”

As the storm rages around us, nestled on the floor of the lighthouse on top of the pile of blankets, Fisher slowly removes the wet clothes from my body. He touches and kisses and runs his hands over every inch of my body, whispering words of love after each kiss. He holds himself above me and I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him down on top of me, wanting to feel his weight and his strength. I will never get used to the sensation of him entering me for the first time, how full and loved and wanted he makes me feel. Our love spans so many years and is filled with so many memories, I could never imagine another day without him and I say a silent prayer that I will never have to.

Fisher and I move together slowly, holding each other tightly with the wind and the rain beating against the lighthouse.

The same lighthouse that brought us together when we were children.

The same lighthouse that helped me see the kind of man Fisher really was when we were teenagers.

The same lighthouse where our future began as adults.

It wasn’t too long ago that I thought our story had come to an end. Turns out, it was only beginning.





Epilogue




Fisher

Six weeks later…


With the sun setting in the distance, I stare down at Lucy with a mixture of love and sadness. Tears fill her eyes and I know we’re both feeling the exact same way. We’re on the beach, in front of our lighthouse with my mother, Ellie, Bobby, Lucy’s parents and Seth and Mary Beth off to the side, and a minister standing in front of us as I slide those rings back on her finger where they belong.

The last few weeks have been a whirlwind of emotions, and we went back and forth about doing this today, not sure if it was right when there was one person missing. One person who had always supported us and would be happier than anyone that we’d found our way back to each other and finally got our small, intimate wedding in front of our lighthouse.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. Again,” the minister says with a smile. “You may, of course, kiss your bride.”

I wrap my arms around Lucy and lift her up against my body, kissing her with every ounce of love I have inside of me. As our family and friends clap, I press my mouth to her ear.

“I love you, Mrs. Fisher,” I whisper.

“I love you more, Mr. Fisher,” she replies softly.

Setting her down on the sand, we walk hand-in-hand to the water’s edge. I pick up the sky lantern from the sand and Lucy pulls a lighter from down the front of her dress and lights the square block of wax attached to the inside of the paper balloon. We hold onto it for a few seconds before lifting it up together and letting the wind carry it away, out over the ocean. Wrapping my arm around her shoulder, I pull her close and we watch the light from the luminary float higher and higher above the water until it disappears into the clouds.

“You know he’s really pissed right now that we’re getting all sappy,” Lucy says with a shaky laugh as she swipes the tears off of her cheeks.

“He is absolutely calling me a ‘little shit’ and shaking his head at me,” I laugh with her, blinking the tears out of my eyes.

Jefferson ‘Trip’ Fisher, Sr., my grandfather and the only father I’ve ever truly known, died from a massive heart attack the day of the hurricane. Nothing has been the same since he’s been gone and the only thing keeping me from breaking down is the woman in my arms next to me. Lucy knew something was wrong with him that day and she’s been beating herself up ever since for not getting him to a hospital. I’ve done everything I could to convince her that there was nothing she could have done in the middle of a hurricane, and it’s not like Trip would have let her do something, anyway. He was a stubborn old man and the one thing giving me solace right now is that he’s finally reunited with the love of his life.

“They’re finally together,” Lucy says softly, mirroring my thoughts as she continues staring up at the sky.

“He’s probably already pissing her off, complaining about things that need to be fixed in Heaven,” I joke.

She laughs and the sound warms my heart. I turn her to face me and hold her face in my hands. In a simple, long-sleeved white dress with her hair hanging loose around her shoulders and a white flower tucked behind one ear, she’s more beautiful to me now than she was on our first wedding day. Keeping our promise not to tell my mother about this until right before the ceremony, Grace Fisher, in her usual fashion, clucked her tongue at me when she saw that we were both barefoot and I was wearing a casual pair of khakis rolled up to my shins and an untucked white button down shirt. She wisely kept her loving mouth shut when we told her this is what we wanted and she should just go with it.