Two nights before the wedding, I asked what role he had played that prepared him for this.
He smiled for the first time in a way that reached his eyes.
“I should probably tell you before your aunt asks where I’ve performed.”
I waited.
“I used to work in a hospice.”
That explained why he looked older.
“I left six months ago,” he said. “Too many losses too close together.”
Something inside me went still.
“So when you got my email…”
“I knew what terminal sounds like between the lines.”
I looked at him for a long moment. “Why the agency, then?”
“My cousin owns it. She puts me on the books sometimes when she needs a man who can speak clearly in a suit.”
I laughed. “So I accidentally hired a grieving hospice nurse pretending to be an actor.”
“Basically.”
Then he looked embarrassed. “You can back out if that feels manipulative.”
“It doesn’t.”
It felt like fate, trying not to look obvious.
The morning of the wedding, I woke up certain that Daniel would somehow ruin it.
Text me, show up, apologize, or beg. Men like him always want back in once they feel guilty for running away.
He did worse. He arrived at the venue 15 minutes before the ceremony.
I was in the bridal suite with my mother, pinning my veil, when my cousin ran in and said, “There’s a man downstairs demanding to speak to Serah.”
My stomach dropped.
Peter was already downstairs. So was my father.
By the time I made it to the hall outside the chapel doors, Daniel was arguing with both of them.
“I’m trying to fix this,” he was saying.
Peter stood between him and the corridor, calm as stone.
My father looked ready to commit a felony.
Daniel saw me, and his face collapsed.
“Serah,” he said. “I made a mistake.”
The nerve of weak men is one of life’s ugliest miracles.
“You think?” I asked.
He stepped toward me. Peter moved without touching him, just enough to block the path.
Daniel looked at Peter like he had only just realized I had actually replaced him.
“This is insane,” he said.
“No,” I said. “What’s insane is leaving a dying woman and then showing up because you cannot suddenly live with your choice.”
He went pale.
“I panicked.”
“Yes.”
“I loved you.”
