Epilogue
Chuck and his vows. He always worked on them for days before the time he had to use them, and when it came time, he either discarded them or the words just flew right out of his head.
At the reception of his father's wedding, the sight of Blair Waldorf looking at him as she sat in her pretty pink dress, convinced him to put aside his carefully selected words and instead speak to her, from the heart.
And so it was no surprise that it was the sight of Blair Waldorf, simple, classic and elegant in her mother's creation, standing at the end of the aisle on the arm of Harold, that made his brain go completely blank. She was satin and silk and lace and a dream.
Her best friend got married in the Hamptons, and they came to the wedding in matching white outfits, running barefoot towards the arch of flowers because their plane landed late after a weekend getaway in Scotland. Blair adored the ceremony, and she took pictures of the place settings, the makeshift aisle drawn on the sand by exotic seashells, and the bride in a chic white sundress. Blair had talked about Serena's wedding the entire night that Nate had started to advise him to look into the possibility of having a beach wedding himself.
But Chuck knew Blair, and he could have recounted this day to his best man exactly down to the very last flower petal that incidentally fell just three centimeters from the base of the holder. Even before Blair accepted his proposal, Chuck could have drawn for him—had he been an artist of any note—the exact way a tendril of her hair escaped her loose bun and curled down her temple and against her cheekbone. The gown that took Eleanor Waldorf months to perfect, Chuck had already predicted and dreamed about for weeks since Blair said 'yes.'
Blair Waldorf's wedding could have been lifted straight from a fairy tale, then pumped full of details that made every royal wedding worth the coverage, and made possible by Harold Waldorf's and Bart Bass' sizeable pocketbooks. Blair Waldorf would have everything she had ever written on a dream journal. Chuck thought the costumed Arabian stallion was a bit too much, but Blair had pouted so prettily during their meeting with their wedding planner that he just had to arrive on it.
Her eyes were intent on him, so trusting that Chuck just had to suck in his gut and memorize every word. "You were never part of the life I dreamed about. All my life I only thought there could just be one ending, and that wasn't what happened." Her eyes drifted briefly to Nate, who stood behind Chuck, and she smiled, then turned back to the man in front of her. "I look back at my life now and I knew how you were always there, always on the sidelines, this huge, imposing figure who wasn't ever going to be an ending," she said softly, and Chuck took her hand in his and kissed her gloved knuckles. "My first kiss, my first wild night—" She chuckled. "The first person who ever made me feel beautiful even when I made you feel so bad. You were the first man I ever loved when I found out what that really meant. My world began with you."
And despite all the cynicism that he had for life, the tears in her eyes caused his throat to tighten in response. Because all his written vows had fled his memory, he decided to respond to hers. "I thought I was always going to be in the sidelines of the great romance you'd cooked up for yourself," he said with a slight curve of his lips. "I knew you; and I knew I wasn't that perfect gentleman, that prince who would sweep you off your feet, who would be great, amazing, caring and generous." Her hands squeezed his.
"But, Blair, you made me want to be all of those things. You made me want to step outside my skin and be everything I could be. For you." With a grin, he continued, "And because of that, my father adores you." Blair smiled. "You weren't my first kiss, or my first wild night—but you were the first kiss that mattered, the first night I spent with anyone that I never wanted to end. You're my first love, and I swear to you, Blair, you will be the last."
And when they were given the chance to kiss, Chuck lifted the veil and revealed a happily crying Blair that was relaxed and free, with a giant smile on her face, and Chuck was proud of himself. He had dreamed about this moment and always, Blair had been nervous, or anxious, or worried about her hair or the fact that her mascara might run. This Blair did not mind, and she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. He leaned down and kissed her hungrily, and she returned the kiss with as much fervor. "I love you too, Chuck," she whispered against his lips as they parted.
fin