7 days before the wedding, Ethan Chase came to me with his cancer-stricken first love. "Serena might only have three months left. Her one wish is to wear a wedding dress." I asked, "To take a bridal photoshoot?" He glanced at Serena beside him. "No.to have the wedding. Ours." On the table lay the invitations that had just arrived. My name was embossed, but slightly faint on one corner. Last night, Ethan had held them up to the light, saying a wedding happened only once in a lifetime. It couldn't be half-hearted. I stared at those faded letters, then called the bridal boutique. The stylist asked if the main gown should be altered to fit the bride. I said, "Hold off. Don't give it to anyone who comes for it. That gown is not for loan." Later, Ethan took my words—"the gown is not for loan"—and twisted them into "the wedding is available for loan." He even told friends and family that I would be the one handing them their rings on stage. I had the cancellation notice printed on new invitations. Before I could even mail them out, Ethan sent me a photo of a marriage certificate. "I had to sign the surgery consent forms for Serena, so we got legally married first. Zara, just wait for me for three months."