« Nothing, » Peter said, pulling back. « I was just telling Evan this morning. Eight months ago, you couldn’t get out of bed. Look at you now. »
« You picked a good one for me, big brother. »
« I always do. »
He kissed my cheek and offered his arm, and I took it.
The music started. The doors opened. Two hundred faces turned toward me, and I walked down the aisle on my brother’s arm, certain, finally certain, that I had chosen right.