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I hugged him back. “Hulk, you’re okay. You’re really okay.” He set me down and I stepped back staring at him, wondering if it was safe for him to have lifted me up.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have done that,” I said. “I’m heavy and you’re still recovering.”

He bumped my chin lightly with the side of his fist. “I’m doing great. I really am. Thanks for your emails—I appreciated every one of them. And thanks for inviting me and Viola to your wedding. Congratulations are definitely in order.”

At that moment, I did something totally uncharacteristic for me. I stood on my tiptoes and put one hand on each of his cheeks, looking directly into his eyes. “Thank you for having my six, Hulk. And thanks for coming to my wedding. I’m really,reallyglad you’re here.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, kid. I mean that.”

Someone tapped me on the shoulder. “Hey, what am I? Chopped liver?”

Wills stood there looking spiffy in a navy suit, his brown hair combed to one side, his blue eyes smiling. He opened his arms for a hug, and I willingly walked into his arms, hugging him as hard as I’d hugged Hulk.

Part of my brain wondered who I’d become. For a girl who once disliked being touched and wanted only occasional hugs from those I trusted or loved, here I was throwing myself willy-nilly into the arms of others.

Except Wills, Hulk, and Hands weren’t just others. They were my brothers in all ways except blood. They had become trusted relationships, and it surprised me how strong a connection I felt to them even after being away from them for some time. I realized at that moment that our shared experiences had created an unbreakable bond that would remain that strong regardless of how often we saw each other. Because it was a bond literally forged in fire and tempered with respect, camaraderie, and faith.

“How are you feeling?” I asked Wills. “How’s the recovery going?”

“Slow and steady,” he said. “Got rid of my cane last week, so I’m footloose and ready to dance at your wedding.”

“Better save one for me,” I said.

“You got it.”

Moments later, Slash joined us. Before I knew it, all our friends and family surrounded us. Hulk introduced everyone to his wife, Viola, and Wills made sure I had the opportunity to chat with his girlfriend, Hope, who was just finishing up a degree in computer science at Duke University. Conversation (even mine!) flowed, and I laughed so hard my cheeks hurt.

I couldn’t ever remember having such a good time at a party.

What had happened to girl who was a serious lone wolf just a few years ago? A young woman too scared to face the world on her own, too intimidated to trust her own social instincts, and more than happy to stay shielded in virtual existence.

Somewhere along the line, she’d learned that she didn’t need to go it alone, that she could accomplish more when she worked with others. She’d found she had the capacity and courage within herself to tackle the things that intimidated her the most—people and relationships. Relationships were by far the hardest place for her to find her footing, but she’d also found they were also the most rewarding.

True life treasures.

I looked around the room at the people I held dear, amazed that somehow, I had become part of this group. Had it been blind luck or skill?

I was no longer the isolated and oblivious woman I’d once been. I’d discovered I was braver than I ever thought possible. I’d accomplished more than I ever expected. Not because I was a lone wolf, working for my own accomplishments, recognition, or reward. But because I’d found myself while working with others who’d shown me the reward of love and friendship.

In this moment, understanding that was perhaps the best wedding present I could have ever given myself.

FORTY-SEVEN

Lexi

The luncheon went on later than we expected because we were having so much fun, but all good things must come to an end. Slash and I handed out gifts, and he said just the right heartfelt things while I nodded in agreement.

Shortly thereafter, I introduced my grandparents to Slash over tea and coffee in the hotel bar. Grandpa Wyatt and Nana Eloise, my fraternal grandparents, were in their late seventies, and they didn’t know quite what to make of all the fuss and commotion outside the hotel.

“Is there a celebrity staying here?” Nana asked me. “I hope it’s that blonde actress. Oh, what’s her name, Wyatt?”

“You know how many blonde actresses there are on television, Eloise?”

“She’s the short one. I can’t think of her name. Never mind. She’s pretty, perky, and funny. I like funny.”

“I like funny actors, too, Nana,” I said. “Anyway, Slash is from Italy.”

Nana peered at him over the top rim of her glasses. “My, aren’t you a handsome one. Maybe you’re the celebrity?”