Page 94 of Dr. Fellow

I haven’t told anyone at work about our marriage, and there’s no way in hell that Beau or Parker said anything. Which only leaves one person . . .

“Morgan gave me a brief rundown the other day,” he confirms. “I walked into her patient’s room for an emergent appy consult while Parker’s sister was teasing her about her new wedding band.”

I smile as I picture her wearing the ring I bought her a few weeks ago. It isn’t much—just a silicone band that she can wear at the hospital and not feel guilty if she loses it.

“It’s been a wild few months.”

“I can only imagine,” he says with an amused exhale, his expression slightly less grim than it was a few minutes ago. “Well, you’ve got a good one.”

I certainly do.

Chapter 37

Morgan

I’ve been asking Cass to send me her wedding details for weeks—simple things like where to be, and when to be there—only to be pacified with blanket statements and bizarre distractions. She’s been acting more like a bridechilla than a bridezilla, and it’s throwing me off.

According to her, last night was a “family only” rehearsal dinner. But when I stalked Cass and Claire on social media, both of them were uncharacteristically silent. Not a story, not a post, not even a tagged picture. Nothing.

Normally I would’ve done more sleuthing, but like every night for the past few weeks, I stayed over at Walker’s house. He distracted me with his tongue until the last thing on my mind was my best friend’s lack of information. And while I can’t complain, because my body is deliciously satisfied from a night of intense playtime, I feel like I’m officially behind schedule—whatever that schedule is.

When I begged Cass for more information yesterday, the only text I got back made me want to pull my hair out.

Today - Rehearsal + Dinner. (Family only. Don’t try and crash it lol)

Tomorrow - Report to the venue at Noon for lunch. Hair + Makeup after. Bring a dress and shoes. Nothing else.

I sent a screenshot to Claire to ask if she had any additional information, but she just responded with a slew of shrugging emojis.

I feel like I’m way more stressed about this than anyone else. I’ve been in a handful of college friends’ weddings, and they were all way more chaotic. I mean, I get that I’m not the maid of honor, but there should definitely be . . . more.

“Have you seen my curling iron?” I yell into the hallway before throwing open the bathroom cabinets to frantically search for my getting-ready supplies.

“Aren’t you having your hair and makeup done this afternoon?”

Oh, right.

I walk into the bedroom wearing one of his T-shirts. “What did Beau tell you? Are you staying at the venue when you drop me off? Or are y’all going somewhere else?”

Walker is shirtless and leaning against his metal headboard as he furiously types something on his phone

“Uh, not sure yet,” he answers distractedly, keeping his eyes glued to the screen.

What the hell is happening? Usually, I have his undivided attention any time I speak.

I swear today is starting to feel like the twilight zone.

“Okay . . .” I mutter, deciding to shoot off a text to Team Daddies.

What time does Walker have to be with the guys?

He seems to know nothing.

Typical man.

Technically, he isn’t in the wedding either since Cass and Parker only chose a best man and maid of honor, but the guys are supposed to meet up and “get ready” together. I would imagine that includes drinking, talking about boring doctor things, and combing their hair five minutes before the ceremony starts, but what if there’s more? What if they have to pick something up at the last minute?

Claire responds to my message with a picture of her holding a bottle of champagne.

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