Epilogue 9 - To Have and to Hold

Until that week, Joey Granger was pretty sure that he'd never been inside a cathedral. It smelled old; not the musty, run-down kind of old, but an intense, heavy kind that conveyed a sense of grandeur that most modern buildings no longer carry. From where he stood near the front, it seemed cavernous. Tall stained glass windows cast colourful patterns on the floor, the light of hundreds of candles flickered in response.

It was time for the big day, a long time coming, and Joey was ready.

It was the day after he had turned twenty-one, three years since he first discovered his power. So many things had changed. He'd travelled to another world. He'd fallen in love. He'd become a father! If time travel had been possible, and if he had gone back to tell himself about how his life would turn out, there was no way that the story would have been believed.

Despite the fact that the women in his life kept him quite busy, Joey had become introspective of late. Perhaps it was because of this latest change to his life, this decision he had finally realized it was time to make. Whatever the cause, Joey had come to understand that one of the biggest changes in his life had been a change to himself. The boy who had hated attention, who had hidden away from bullies, who had given up on ever really connecting with his family in any meaningful way, had gone. He no longer existed.

In his place was a man, one who understood what it meant to be loved. A man who could give love, maybe not in equal measure to the way his girls love him, but with no restraint nonetheless. A man who didn't back down when there was a need.

Eliza had been so proud of him when she realized how much he had grown up.

"You... ugh... make my job so easy, Master," she had said as he thrust into her one evening on the veranda. "So manly. So... ugh... fucking manly."

She hadn't been wrong. Joey felt it. Sometime in the last few years, he had become a man. And it wasn't the sex, nor the heaps of affection. No, it was something different, something that had taken time.

Joey had learned that while his girls scrambled to take care of him at every turn, it was also his job to tend to their needs. They had all grown to depend on him. Some financially, all emotionally, and without question physically, each one needed Joey, and time had taught him not to buckle under the pressure. He was still young, but he'd quickly grown into the responsibility, emerging from the chrysalis of childhood a fully grown man.

Not that the women made it difficult. He looked to his left and his right, smiling as he locked eyes with them, all looking beautiful in their matching black cocktail dresses. That had been a request from one of the girls. Serena, he thought, that the dresses could be something they could use again, not the usual one-time-use bridesmaid garb. Little black dresses had been Juniper's suggestion, and he was glad for it. If it had been any other day he would have taken each of them into a private room and shown them how much he loved them.

But today wasn't about them.

His eyes moved to the small crowd in the pews. Every face was familiar, people from both his old life and new.

Derek, Eliza's ex-boyfriend, was impossible to miss. He had his arm around a gorgeous woman in a sequined gown—his pop-star wife, the one he'd met at that gas station, as the story went. Joey smiled faintly when he saw them. He knew the truth, of course.

There'd been a time when Joey had felt bad for Derek—after all, Joey had taken Eliza from him without even meaning to. Joey had felt the guilt of it deep in his bones, a quiet ache he couldn't do anything about. His power, back then, had limits. It could twist hearts and rewrite truths, but not undo what had already been done.

But after Elorae… after everything changed… he had gone looking for Derek. Eliza had told him once, in that open, confessional way she had when they were alone, that Derek's "dream girl" had always been the singer Cassia Vale—the pop star whose face had been plastered across his dorm walls and playlists. Joey remembered the way she'd laughed about it, indulgent and fond, as though that kind of boyish crush was harmless.

So when Joey came back from Elorae's world—when he had the kind of power that could bend coincidence itself—he'd done Derek a kindness. Just a nudge. A change in the way Cassia's tour bus stopped for gas that night, and in the way she looked up from her sunglasses and smiled at the stranger asking if she needed help with the pump. The rest had unfolded naturally, like the universe catching up to a story it had been meant to tell.

Now they were the couple the tabloids couldn't get enough of—Cassia and Derek Vale (he'd taken her name)—glittering, loud, in love. Derek caught Joey's eye across the room, and for a moment, just a heartbeat, there was something like gratitude there. Joey nodded back. Maybe this was how it was supposed to go, how it should have been all along.

Hank was in the second pew, beaming with pride. Sarah sat beside him, radiant, her hand resting lightly on the bundle in her lap. Portia was next to her, cradling her own newborn, the two babies sleeping as if the world itself had decided to hold its breath for them.

Earlier, Hank had found Joey before the ceremony. He'd pulled him into a hug—not a handshake, not a pat on the shoulder, but a full, grounding embrace that caught Joey off guard. Hank had looked older, softer in the eyes, but happier than Joey had ever seen him. He told Joey he'd been thinking a lot about fathers lately—about how rare it was to see a man grow into something better instead of harder.

Then Hank had smiled that crooked grin of his and said, "You've got my blessing, son. For whatever that's worth, I'm proud of you."

Now, seeing the man with his new, almost as unorthodox of a family as Joey's, he understood that blessing in a deeper way. Sarah and Portia glowed with a serene kind of joy. For all that Joey had done to the beautiful women, all the inadvertent changes he had wrought, this new family had come out whole. The babies stirred, soft sighs escaping their lips, and Joey's chest tightened. New beginnings everywhere he looked.

Nick and Raj sat together farther back, their wives Taylor and Isla between them—two couples who'd seemed as unlikely as any of Joey's matches, now content, holding hands in a warm, loving way.

Joey had noticed them not long after he returned from Elorae's world. It had been one of those things that made him pause—the way Taylor had been clinging to Nick like a new obsession, the way Isla had teased Raj with that mix of affection. Young love, all fire and no foundation. For a while it had looked sweet, but Joey could see the fault lines forming even then. After graduation, the sparkle had started to fade. Taylor grew restless; Isla turned sharp. The boys looked confused, hurt, like the script had changed on them mid-scene.

Joey had thought about leaving it alone. Letting them all learn their lessons. But something in him—something quieter, more deliberate—couldn't bear to watch another pair of good guys get worn down. So he'd adjusted things. Not drastically. Just enough to remind Taylor how lucky she was to have someone steady, and Isla how rare it was to be truly seen.

Now, looking at them—hands linked, leaning into each other, laughter bubbling from all four of them—Joey felt a strange warmth. Maybe this was what using his power right looked like. Not control. Not seduction. Just… restoration.

Everywhere Joey looked, he saw the same thing: peace. People who had found their places, who had found joy. Many of them through his own interventions. Three years earlier, Joey had come to terms with the idea that his life would be one without lasting impact, but now that he surveyed the cathedral, everywhere he looked was evidence of his decisions, for better or worse. Joey had made a difference.

Music started playing, shaking Joey from his thoughts. This was it.

The doors opened.

Light spilled in.

The cathedral was filled to its rafters, but for a moment it seemed to pause. Conversations were cut off, breaths were held. Immediately the congregation stood to their feet as their heads turned to see the vision of beauty that had just entered.

She wore white—not the plain white of tradition, but a gown that seemed to absorb and scatter the light around her. It shimmered like mother-of-pearl, like dawn. Her hair hung down over her shoulders, her smile both proud and tender.

For a moment, Joey forgot to breathe.

As he locked eyes with his mother, Donna Granger, his bride-to-be, he knew what the world saw when they looked at her: not his mother, not the woman who had raised him, but the one who he was supposed to marry, the woman who already shared a surname with him, but from that day forward it would be seen as if she was carrying his name. Joey's name. As Joey's wife.

He felt the weight of everything that had led here—the choices, the miracles, the bending of reality itself. He had shaped this world with his words, his will, his power. And yet, as he stood there watching Donna's eyes shine with tears, he realized that this was not conquest. This was completion.

She moved to the rhythm of the music, a classical piece she'd selected but Joey hadn't heard before. No man walked her down the aisle. Her own father had passed away years earlier, and having Joey's father escort her had seemed cruel to Joey, even though he had volunteered. And so she walked alone, eyes locked on her fiancé, seemingly oblivious to the people around her.

And Joey didn't blame her. He, too, filled with love for this vision of a woman, could hardly think of where he was and what he was doing. Inside his tuxedo pants, he could feel himself begin to twitch, the early stage of arousal. Soon, if he wasn't careful, he'd be sporting a sizable erection, making their wedding photos look a little awkward.

As he stood and waited, he caught glimpses of movement at the edge of his vision. A flash of colour from the stained glass above—a vision of Elorae's world now bright and free; of Indira's mother smiling beside Donna in friendship; of Serena standing before a hotel door, radiant with purpose; of Hank and his family in their sunlit home; of Eliza and Vaelith tending the house that had become the heart of everything.

He had changed them all. And they were happy.

And then she was there. Donna extended her hands.

"Hi, sweetheart," she whispered, voice steady.

Joey smiled—shy, a little disbelieving, and full of wonder. "Hi."

The music softened. The air grew still.

Despite the dramatic setting, the long guest list, and the planning that had gone into the day, it would be a short ceremony. Joey had no interest in standing and listening to moralizing homilies or advice on how to make a relationship work. In his short adult life, he had become an expert at relationships. His power helped, but it was more than changing reality to make everything go his way. Joey had learned to listen, to care, and to give. He loved his women, and he showed it with more than words, but with his life.

"Dearly beloved..." the priest began, but Joey had already tuned him out. In the dark eyes of Donna Granger he swam. As had become his habit when he saw her, Joey would again thank Elorae after the ceremony for his power. To be marrying this incredible woman, a woman who hadn't just been out of reach in his previous life, but he had never considered her as a possible source of romance. Their relationship had been cold at best, defined by rules that excluded what they had now, informed by a life without true connection.

But her eyes told of a different, new story. One of long days talking, caring. Long nights in each other's arms. Shared looks across dinner tables. Gentle touches when nobody was looking. This was what he wanted. What he had never realized that he'd always wanted.

Donna’s fingers tightened around his.

Joey realized that the priest had stopped speaking and was looking at him expectantly.

"Are you ready?" she asked softly.

He nodded. "I am."

And as the light from the stained glass spilled over them—gold and blue and crimson—Joey Granger, saviour of a world, smiled and said the answer to the question he'd been asked.

"I do."

"Then, Joey and Donna Granger, I now pronounce you man and wife," the priest said with a smile. "You may kiss the bride."

The music swelled. The cathedral filled with applause and laughter and the sound of joy made real.

But all of it was lost on Joey and Donna, who couldn't hear the applause, because the fireworks in their kiss were far too loud.

The End.

Thank you to everyone for sticking with this story as long as you did! It was the longest one I've ever written, and it was (so far) the most fun! I also appreciated all the kind words you left in the comments. I know I'm not the quickest to respond, but I read them all and loved seeing them.