Page 67 of Doctor Enemy

“I’m surprised that you didn’t,” I say, with a laugh.

I sink down, sitting on the edge of the coffee table in front of the couch. “And you’re right. I’m glad that you didn’t tell me. I just can’t believe that I didn’t realize you both knew ahead of time!”

“We’re sneaky like that,” says Amanda.

And then she asks, “So, when’s the wedding?”

“We haven’t talked about it yet,” I tell her, explaining that Kurt had to go to work earlier than I did today. And then, with a smile on my face, I promise them, “But once we pick out a date, you’ll both be the first to know.”

Epilogue - Kurt

ThornewoodCastlelookedabsolutelystunning when we came out to look for wedding venues a year ago.

It looks even better today on the eve of our wedding.

The four-hundred-year-old Elizabethan manor has been renovated on the inside several times over the years, though it maintains a lovely English charm. The inside of it has been decked out for the afterparty.

The main event is taking place in the sunken English garden out back. The grounds are a buzz with wedding planners and location staff, finishing up the final touches on the venue. While we had both wanted to be more thoroughly involved in picking out what was served via catering and the colors of the drapery, our harsh work hours prevented that from happening.

It hasn’t distracted from how gorgeous everything has turned out, though. Fold out chairs have been set up in our chosen location, the backs of which are draped with pale, ivory satin. The fabric catches on the light of the setting sun, turning it into something even more remarkable.

I’m waiting on the makeshift stage, already dressed up in my black suit and ivory tie. The guests have been brought into their seats, everything going according to plan. I still can’t shake off the nerves, though. It feels like something is about to go wrong somewhere. Maybe that’s just the wedding jitters.

My mouth is dry, my palms slightly sweat damp. I look over the crowd of guests again, trying to distract myself from how long it’s taking for Lori to be fetched and the wedding to start.

My gaze lands on Nate. He brought Emma along with him, though I haven’t the faintest idea why. The moment that they stepped into the venue I could tell that his ex-wife had worked herself into some kind of a foul mood. Her expression was pinched, and her lips drawn into a thin line.

She’s the only one that isn’t wearing a light-colored dress, too, despite our request for the dress code. Instead, she’s got on a brilliant midnight blue piece that makes her stand out in the crowd.

I’m not surprised.

Emma can’t stand it when she’s not the center of attention.

I’m not surprised that Nate’s turned toward her, clearly trying to soothe whatever has her worked up. It doesn’t look like it’s working. I’m wondering whether outside intervention is going to be needed when the music starts to play and my gaze sweeps toward the line of flower petals leading into the main part of the manor.

The doors swing open.

Lori steps out in a cream dress, all satin and lace, with pale pink flowers woven into a crown around her head as the base for her veil. Just like that, she’s the only thing that I can focus on.

I’ve never seen anyone as gorgeous as her—and I’m about to make her mine.

Mine to love.

Mine to keep.

A smile curls over my face, and the world seems to narrow in. The crowd of guests, which had been serving as a good distraction up until this point, is suddenly completely unimportant. Lori is center stage.

Her mother is walking her down the aisle. There was no response from her father when she sent him an invitation. Olivia didn’t show, either.

I know that Lori was a bit put out by that, but I’m glad for it. I feel as though she would have ruined this moment for us. And I don’t want to risk that. Her hangup with our age difference was too much in the end.

But it doesn’t matter, because I’ve never seen anything more beautiful. The setting sun catches on her face and turns her into an ethereal being. She comes up the aisle, the guests all falling silent as she passes them by. Even Emma stops her under-the-breath grumbling.

Slowly, Lori comes up and stands in front of me, reaching out with both hands and taking my own. The music rises to a crescendo and then stills. The priest clears his throat, running through the usual spiel about marriage and how important it is. I’m trying to pay attention, really, I am.

It’s just impossible.

The man’s voice has just turned to static in my ear, like a fly buzzing about. I can’t focus on anything but Lori, and how beautiful she is. Her gaze is locked onto mine and I know she feels the same way. As if everything that we’ve been through leading up to this one singular moment was worth it.

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