I covered my mouth with my hand.
He waited.
“Sarah?”
I tried to answer, but my throat had closed completely.
So I nodded.
His eyebrows lifted.
“Yes?”
“Yes, Nathan.”
His chair scraped loudly against the kitchen floor as he jumped to his feet.
“You mean yes?”
I laughed through the tears already spilling down my cheeks.
“Yes. I mean yes.”
He wrapped both arms around me so tightly I could barely breathe.
“I won’t walk too fast,” he promised.
I buried my face against his shoulder.
“That would be helpful.”
Then, as though he had been waiting to reveal one final piece of information, Nathan said, “I practiced with Dad.”
I pulled away.
“What?”
“For your wedding.”
“You practiced walking me down the aisle with Dad?”
Nathan shrugged.
“A long time ago.”
Apparently, years earlier, Dad had joked that whenever I finally got married, Nathan would have to stay nearby and make sure Dad didn’t trip over his own shoes.
They had actually practiced.
The two of them.
Without ever telling me.
I started crying harder.
Nathan’s expression immediately turned worried.
