39. Chapter 39
Chapter 39
Walker
“ D amn dude,” Beau says, clapping me on the back as I wait behind a glass door for the guests to take their seats. “You clean up nice.”
I sigh, sweeping my eyes over my friend’s ensemble. “I’d say the same thing but your pink cummerbund looks ridiculous.”
Considering Parker has a massive wardrobe, I’m genuinely shocked that he doesn’t own several sets of traditional tuxedo accessories. Or maybe he does, and Beau just chose the most obnoxious one in the closet . . .
“You know what they say,” he drawls, giving me an asinine smirk. “You can’t say cummerbund without saying cum.”
My lips purse. “I sincerely hope your jizz isn’t that color.”
“Wanna find out?”
I glare at him, not the least bit amused by his games.
My body feels itchy and off-kilter, like I’m coming down with a bug. I reach up to adjust my collar, trying to relieve some of the tightness in my neck, but it doesn’t help.
In the past, I would have made fun of guys who couldn’t control their emotions on their wedding day, but now I completely understand. Because even though Morgan and I have spent the past two months believing that we were married, that doesn’t change the significance of this moment. Today we’re making a conscious decision to choose each other for the rest of our lives. We’re growing from our separate pasts, and building a future full of mutual promises. It’s powerful and the significance of the moment isn’t lost on me . . . or my body.
“Ready?” the young wedding coordinator asks.
She’s fresh out of college but smart as a whip. She’s been working with Parker and me to make a few changes to the original plan, and I can honestly say that I’ve never been more thankful to someone for taking control. We didn’t know what the hell we were doing, despite my having done this once before.
When Parker and Cassidy decided they wanted to elope, he reached out to see if I wanted to take over their wedding before they cancelled the vendors. Even though it was only a few days after Morgan and I had reconciled, I knew without a doubt that I would take him up on his offer. Because the timing was so last minute, we kept the guest list relatively small—some of her local friends, our coworkers, and her family. I probably won’t know half of the people here because Cassidy handled the invitations, but if they’re important to my wife, they’re important to me.
“Ready,” I confirm, giving the coordinator a curt nod.
The soft, classical music of Ludovico Einaudi does nothing to steel my nerves as I start to walk down the aisle covered in white rose petals. I’m so keyed up that all of the guests grinning at me appear faceless, my mind lost in a tunnel of emotion.
I turn at the front and dip my chin to Parker and his sisters in the first row, silently thanking them for everything. I never expected them to become my friends, nor would I have imagined they would become my family. And I don’t think I’ll ever be able to express the gratitude I feel to them for welcoming me into their lives.
Beau walks Cassidy down the aisle next, his prideful smile forcing me to swallow back the raw emotion collecting at the back of my throat. Without him, I wouldn’t be here today, marrying the woman of my dreams. I’ve taught him how to be a surgeon, but he’s taught me so much more—about seeing the good in people, keeping life fun, and most importantly about true friendship. I love the big lunatic.
He moves to stand beside me, whispering something in my ear that I don’t hear because the music changes. An instrumental version of “Accidentally in Love” starts playing, and the guests stand for the bride.
For my bride.
As soon as the doors open and I see her, all of the emotion that I’ve been holding back finally breaks free. My hand flies to my face to stop a sob, my head shaking in disbelief because it suddenly hits me . . .I finally have something to celebrate.
Beau’s reassuring hand lands on my shoulder as I look down at my shoes to try and pull myself together. I can feel the tears sliding down my cheeks, but there’s no way in hell I can stop them at this point.
I force air into my lungs and find the strength to lift my head. Cassidy offers me a hazel-eyed wink of encouragement before I turn to face my girl.
She’s glowing with calm confidence as she holds her brother’s arm, a wide grin plastered on her flawless face. My heart feels like it’s going to explode as they join me, feeling overwhelmingly lucky that she’s mine.
I used to think that Morgan was a tornado of chaos. She swirled into my life and tormented me with her inescapable pull. She made me question everything I thought I knew about my future, and forced me to feel when I was hell-bent on never trying again.
But now I know that she’s so much more.
She’s my second chance.
She’s my greatest gamble.
She’s my little devil.
But she’s also my loving angel.
“Who gives this woman to this man?” the officiant asks, his voice booming over the outdoor speakers.
When nobody answers, Morgan elbows her brother in the side. She asked him to walk her down the aisle because they’ve always had a stronger relationship than her parents, but maybe we should have done a quick rehearsal prior to the real thing.
“Uh,” he responds with a hesitant cough. “I guess I do.”
The audience laughs as he moves to take a seat next to his parents.
Morgan doesn’t know this, but when we went to his baseball game, I asked him for her hand in marriage. I know how much he means to her, so it just felt right. She had already told him about our Vegas wedding, and while he was shocked, he couldn’t have been more supportive of a traditional ceremony. He handled everything with their family and moved hell and high water to be here today. And I couldn’t be more thankful because the joy on her face when they walked in this afternoon almost brought me to my knees.
It’s a joy that I can’t wait to witness for the rest of my life.
The officiant begins with several generic remarks on love before he informs us that we should hold hands because it’s time to proceed with the declaration of intent.
I reach out and intertwine my fingers with hers as the officiant holds the microphone up for me to repeat the traditional wedding vows. “I, Walker, take you, Morgan, to be my lawfully wedded wife. To have and to hold. From this day forward. For better or for worse. For richer or poorer. In sickness and in health. ‘Til death do us part.”
“Thank you, Walker,” the officiant says, nodding his head before he looks at the audience. “I believe you have something else you’d like to add?”
Morgan cocks a brow at me, her nose wrinkling with curiosity. I squeeze her hands, stepping closer because these words aren’t for anyone else, they’re just for her.
Reaching into the breast pocket of my tux, I take out the additional promises I wrote this morning while she was getting ready, and I read them.
Being a surgeon is work. Work that I’ve done for the entirety of my adult life. Work that I took an oath to put before anything—to love more than anything. But today, our vows overtake that oath. Because today I vow that the most important work I ever do will be the work that is done within our marriage.
It’s short and simple, but it’s significant—I would give it all up for her, and I want her to know that.
Her emerald eyes dance in the sun as she smiles and leans in close. “Guess this means I finally have to move in with you, huh?”
I smile back at her. “Guess so.”
She steps back and looks at the officiant to signal that she’s ready to say her own vows. But I barely hear her speak because all I can think about is how she’s about to be my wife for real this time.
When the news about the marriage certificate broke, I wasn’t sure how she would react. Of course, I knew that she loved me, but she was abundantly clear that she never intended to get married. I prepared myself for the possibility that when she was no longer bound by law to be my wife, she wouldn’t be interested in me.
But her response shocked me in the very best way, just like the words that come out of her mouth after she finishes her vows.
“I actually have something to say too,” she adds, looking at the officiant.
The crowd laughs as he nods in permission.
“Why am I not surprised,” I tease, shaking my head in amusement as she steps forward. “You always have something to say.”
Morgan rolls her eyes and reaches into her dress pocket to pull out a piece of paper with chicken scratch writing on it. “I wrote them just in case.”