I was twenty-nine years old. I was the head charge nurse of the emergency department. And in fifteen minutes, I was going to marry David, a brilliant, kind-hearted pediatric surgeon who had won my heart by bringing me terrible hospital cafeteria coffee during my longest night shifts.
There was a soft knock on the door.
"Come in," I called out, turning around.
The door opened, and Daniel stepped into the room, wearing a sharp, tailored black tuxedo. His hair was completely silver now, but his eyes were as bright and protective as ever. When he saw me, he stopped in his tracks, placing a hand over his heart.
"Emma," he breathed, a genuine, tearful smile breaking across his face. "You look... absolutely breathtaking."
"Thank you," I smiled, feeling a lump form in my throat. I walked over to him and adjusted the boutonniere on his lapel. "Are you ready for this?"
"I've been ready for this since the day you got your acceptance letter to nursing school," Daniel chuckled, patting my hand.
Caleb burst into the room a second later, struggling to fix his bowtie. He was twenty-three now, broad-shouldered and working as a structural engineer.
"Em, I think the groomsmen are lost, and I can't tie this stupid thing," Caleb complained, before looking up and stopping dead. "Whoa. Okay. You look like a princess."
I laughed, stepping forward to expertly tie his bowtie in a matter of seconds. "And you look like a best man. Go find the groomsmen and tell David I'll be out in five minutes."
"On it," Caleb grinned, kissing my cheek before sprinting back out the door.
The room fell quiet again. Daniel offered me his arm.
As we walked out of the suite and toward the garden where the ceremony was taking place, my mind briefly flashed back to my biological mother. I hadn't spoken to her in ten years. I had heard through the grapevine that she was living alone in a small apartment back in Iowa, still complaining to anyone who would listen about how ungrateful her children were.
She had never apologized. She had never changed.
But as I stood at the edge of the floral archway, listening to the string quartet begin to play, I realized something profound. I didn't feel a single ounce of bitterness or regret.
I looked at David, standing at the altar, looking at me as if I were the only person in the entire world. I looked at Caleb, standing proudly by his side. And I felt the steady, unwavering support of Daniel's arm linked with mine.
"Ready?" Daniel whispered.
"I'm ready," I replied.