Page 85 of Burned By the Broken Doctor

She laughs, and I join her. I hold her hand, and we sit there for a while longer, talking about everything and nothing, the air gradually clearing of pre-wedding jitters. June confides in me about her last-minute doubts. The fear of the unknown that always creeps in on such momentous occasions.

I listen patiently, offering words of encouragement and reminding her of the love story that has brought her to this point.

As the clock ticks closer to ceremony time, the mood in the room shifts. An excited energy replaces the earlier anxiety. The hairstylist arrives, adding soft curls to June's hair, while the makeup artist works her magic, setting her hair up in some French twist that lets down some curls that highlight June's natural beauty.

I help June into her dress, the delicate lace whispering against my skin as I fasten the intricate buttons at the back.

When June finally stands up, a vision of ethereal beauty, a collective gasp fills the room. Tears well up in my eyes, a mixture of pride and a strange, bittersweet pang in my chest.

“June,” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion, “you are stunning.”

She turns to me, her eyes glistening. “Thank you, Emma. For everything.” She pauses, then adds, a hint of sadness in her voice, “I know you've worked so hard to make this day perfect, and I can't thank you enough. But when it's your turn to walk down the aisle, Emma, I hope I can be there for you, holding your hand through it all, just like you've done for me.”

Her words strike a chord deep within me. The smile on my face falters for a moment, the hollowness in my chest expanding. My turn? Is there even going to be a “turn” for me? With Liam? That seems even more impossible now than when we first started this fake relationship.

Pushing the thought aside, I force a smile. “Don't worry about me,” I say lightly. “Today is all about you and Damon. Now, come on, let's get you married!”

With shaking hands, I help June adjust her train, the weight of the fabric matching the weight of my own unspoken emotions. We emerge from the dressing room, butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

The hallway is already bustling with activity—a line of bridesmaids hang around adjusting each other's dresses. Some of the groomsmen are cracking nervous jokes. And then I see him.

Liam stands beside Damon, a picture of composed elegance in his black suit. He is tall and broad-shouldered, his dark hair neatly styled, his jaw clean-shaven for the occasion. But it is his eyes—usually warm and inviting—that hold me captive.

Today, they are distant, guarded, reflecting the emotional wall he's built around himself.

Our eyes meet for a brief moment, a silent exchange passing between us. A flicker of pain crosses his features, mirroring the ache in my own heart. Then, he looks away, the fleeting connection severed.

A bridesmaid nudges me gently. “You alright, Em?” she whispers, concern lacing her voice.

I plaster a smile on my face. “Yeah, just fine,” I mumble, my voice tight. Fine. That is the operative word today. Fine for June. Fine for Damon. And most importantly, fine for Liam.

We reach the double doors leading into the ceremony venue, the music swelling to a crescendo. Taking a deep breath, I offer June a reassuring smile. “Ready?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

She squeezes my hand, her smile radiant. “As I'll ever be.”

With a deep breath, I step aside as June's father, a burly man with a heart of gold, takes her hand. Tears well up in his eyes as he beams at his daughter.

“Thank you, Emma,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “You've been a true friend to June.”

I squeeze his hand back, a lump forming in my throat. “It's my pleasure, Mr. Lee,” I choke out, fighting back the tears.

As the doors creak open, revealing a breathtaking scene bathed in soft light and adorned with cascading flowers, June takes her father's arm, her face a canvas of pure joy. I follow close behind, holding the train of her dress, my heart a tangled mess of emotions.

The ceremony is everything June has ever dreamed of. The minister's words are heartfelt, filled with wisdom and love. He speaks of commitment, of building a life together, of weathering the storms that life inevitably throws your way. His words strike a chord deep within me, a stark contrast to the emotional wasteland that is my current relationship with Liam.

As I watch Damon and June exchange vows, their eyes lock in a silent promise, a yearning for a love that mirrors the one I crave deep down. Tears well up in my eyes, blurring my vision. This is what I want. A love that is fierce, unwavering, a love that promises forever. A love that Liam, with his walls and his jaded outlook, could never offer.

Ethan waddles up the aisle with the rings, his bright eyes shining with excitement. He presents them to Damon and June, a giggle escaping his lips as they slip them onto each other's fingers.

The ceremony reaches its climax as the minister declares them husband and wife. Cheers erupt from the gathered guests, a wave of joy washing over the room. As June and Damon lean in for a kiss, the weight of my own loneliness presses down on me, a suffocating sensation that threatens to consume me.

Forcing a smile onto my face, I join the jubilant crowd, offering congratulations and well wishes. look over at Liam again, and our eyes meet once more. There’s so much unsaid between us, so much pain and confusion.

As the newlyweds walk down the aisle, I follow behind, holding June’s train. The guests throw petals and cheer, but I can’t shake the heaviness in my heart. I want to be happy for them, and I am, but I can’t ignore my own pain.

We reach the end of the aisle, and June turns to me, her face glowing with happiness. “Thank you, Emma. For everything.”

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. “You’re welcome, June. I’m so happy for you.”

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