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“Then let’s go back to the room…”

“Oh my God, knock it off,” Jewel called, coming out of her room with Gwen and the twins.

Briana and I laughed, and I backed away from her.

Carter and Katrina ran to me, and I crouched in my suit to pick them up. Carter was the ring bearer, so he was in a little tux with a pink boutonniere. Katrina was the flower girl, so she had on a poofy white dress and a crown of fresh pink flowers.

“What socks?” Carter asked.

“Alligators. And look what Briana has.” I nodded at her.

Briana pulled her hair off her shoulder to show him her green smiling-alligator earrings.

The twins giggled and squirmed away from me to run toward the elevator.

Jewel looked exasperated. “I have to deliver these two to Mom in the bridal suite. You guys should go sit. Jill and Walter are already down there.”

“Where’s Jane?” I asked.

“Meeting her date in the lobby,” Gwen said, still putting in an earring.

“Jane has a date?”

My sister was shy and didn’t usually bring boyfriends around until they’d been together for a while.

“That’s what she said,” Gwen replied. “She was very hush-hush about it.”

I raised my eyebrows at Briana. “A date.”

She gave me a wow face.

I loved that Briana knew my sisters. That our worlds were blending. I loved that we got to hold hands even when no one was around to see it. I got to touch her when I felt like touching her—which, frankly, was all the time. We had sex like we were trying to make up for every day we wanted to and couldn’t. Over the last month all my cardio was in bed.

We texted I Love You to each other from across the ER at work. Left it in little notes. Whispered it in the dark. Said it right in the middle of a conversation, just because we could.

My life was a fairy tale.

I didn’t take one second with her for granted. I swore to myself I never would. Being able to hold her while we watched a movie or come up behind her to hug her while she drank her coffee or put a hand on her thigh under a table—it was all a gift. A privilege. And I vowed always to honor that. I wrote about it in my journal—when I had time to journal. I was too busy living the dream that was my life to sit down and document it. But I was so happy.

We got to the courtyard where the ceremony would be taking place and took our seats. There was a trellis dripping with flowers where Amy and Jeremiah would say their vows. The weather was perfect, and the smell of roses ensconced us.

“The wedding coordinator did a good job,” Briana said, looking around. “I love weddings.”

I peered at her. “Would you ever want to get remarried?” I asked.

She gave me a look. “You don’t have to be married to spend the rest of your life with someone.”

“You don’t want to marry me?”

She gave me an amused look. “Are you asking?”

“And what would you say if I did?”

“I’d say you cannot marry a man you just started dating. No matter how good the sex is.”

I paused to grin. “How long, then?”

She laughed. “I don’t know.”