“We figured you could use some company,” her father said, his usual stoic expression softening when he saw Rex on the table. Her mother was already dabbing her eyes with a tissue. Natalie held up her phone. “The guests understand,” she said softly.
“But we were thinking… maybe we don’t have to cancel everything.” Susan blinked, confused. “What do you mean?” The minister stepped forward with a kind smile. “If you’re willing, Susan,” he said, “we can do the ceremony right here. With Rex.” Susan’s heart swelled, a lump forming in her throat.
She looked at Mike, searching for any sign of hesitation. “It’s not the wedding we planned,” Mike said, his eyes full of love. “But it feels like the right one.” Susan laughed through her tears and nodded, clutching his hand.
“Let’s do it.” An hour later, the sterile exam room became an impromptu chapel. Natalie straightened Susan’s veil, and Mike smoothed out his tuxedo jacket. The minister took his place, and Rex lay at their feet, his tail wagging slowly as if he knew exactly what was happening.
When Susan and Mike exchanged their vows, their hands were joined over Rex’s back. It wasn’t the grand event they had paid for, but surrounded by their inner circle, it felt profoundly real. When the minister finally pronounced them husband and wife, Rex let out a soft, muffled “woof.” It brought a much-needed laugh to the room.
That night, instead of a fancy reception with a DJ and an open bar, Susan and Mike sat on the floor of their living room. They were still in their wedding clothes, the soft glow of a lamp casting long shadows. Rex was sandwiched between them, his head on Susan’s lap. They ate pepperoni pizza straight from the box, the simple comfort of the meal feeling better than any five-course dinner.
Every bite felt like a celebration of the clarity the day had brought. Mike looked at Susan, his eyes filled with admiration. “Definitely not a Pinterest wedding,” he joked softly. “But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
Susan smiled, stroking Rex’s fur. “He reminded us what matters,” she whispered. The months that followed were a bittersweet mix of gratitude and the quiet ache of knowing the end was near. The heart medication gave them a few more precious months…
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