Overwhelmed and struggling to write her wedding vows, Angie turned to her late mother DeeDee — who, as you’ll recall, lives in the sewer now — but that conversation proved to be a dead end. So when Will came knocking to make sure everything was OK, Angie instinctively knew he’d be able to help her in this moment of need, regardless of their past.
They joked about vows that wouldn’t include burning down Seth’s drapes… or swapping out his pain meds for baby aspirin… or promising to go grocery shopping, only to call three days later needing bail money from jail in Montana — all real things Angie did during her relationship with Will before she got sober.
“It was a long time ago,” Will said gently, before reassuring her: “You are not that person anymore.”
Then Angie felt the baby. Hiccups.
“You want to feel it?” she asked.
“Is that, um… would that be OK?” Will replied.
“Yeah,” she assured him. “It’s OK.”
Will placed his hand on her stomach, and they both acknowledged how “weird” it was — a loaded word, given everything it represented. It was strange for them to share this moment together, and stranger still that it wasn’t their baby. But it wasn’t sad. There was history there, and a quiet melancholy, but the moment itself was warm.
“You’re going someplace new, Angie,” Will said. “Think about how he makes you feel. Write it down. It’ll come to you.”
“I love him, Will,” she replied. “I just want to make it special for him.”
“How could it not be special, Ang?” Will said, rhetorically. “He gets to marry you.”