Chapter Thirty-Three

DURANGO WALTERS

Smoothing the fabric of my shirt, I tuck it into my pants before fastening my belt. A pair of eyes meet my reflection in the mirror, and a sudden intensity radiates from behind me. I turn to find Josiah Baxter with a small black velvet box held out in his hand.

"This is for you, Durango," he says sincerely.

I take the box with a sense of curiosity mingled with apprehension. "Well, thank you, Sir."

"I wanted you to have these," Mr. Baxter encourages. "Go ahead, open it up."

The box's hinges creak slightly as I open the lid where light bounces off two gold cufflinks, their intricate design gleaming—sparkling. It's the Star of David, a symbol of newfound faith, and a reminder of the journey I've taken with Max.

Both cufflinks remain in the palm of my hand, shimmering under the sunlight from our guest bedroom window. They signify a certain elegance and tradition that I'm not quite accustomed to. Marrying into Max's world means embracing a level of luxury I've never known. But I never expected the first gift of this new life to come from someone other than my groom.

"They're stunning, Sir," I say. "Thank you so much."

Josiah's eyes twinkle, a melody of joy and sadness. "My son gave me these for Father's Day, the year he graduated from medical school," he informs me, wiping a tear from his eye. "I've had them for many years. But when Yael and I found that the very thing keeping you alive—" he trails off, more tears welling up in his eyes.

He clears his throat to continue, regaining the strength of his voice. "Is the first gift he gave back to the world upon his exit," he cries. "And that you were about to marry the man he first married—I felt like I was about to get a piece of my son back."

His words hang heavy with so much sentiment and meaning. The profound connection we all have through Brogan's love moves me deeply. Perhaps even in death, Brogan's legacy of healing lives on.

"Awww, Mr. Baxter," I reply emotionally, placing the box on the dresser. "That's such a kind thing to say. I'll cherish these cufflinks, I promise."

He smiles while remnants of tears linger in his gaze. "Please, call me Dad. I consider Max like a son, and you're no different."

Josiah's wishes touch me significantly, knowing that I have him to fill the void left by my own parents. I've always longed for that fatherly connection, and now, unexpectedly, it's offered to me. Josiah rests casually on the end of the bed with an inviting stare. I turn back to the dresser, glancing at him through the mirror.

"Alright—Dad," I say. The word feels distant, but welcome on my tongue. "Would you like to do the honors?" I extend the cufflinks to him, a gesture of trust and acceptance.

My heart—Brogan's—swells with gratitude and awe as Mr. Baxter gently fastens the cufflinks onto my sleeves. They gleam against the burgundy fabric of my shirt, a tangible token of the new bond I now share with Brogan's family.

"Thank you, Dad," I say, feeling somewhat warmer the second time.

He smiles. "You look dashing, son. Now, let's get this show on the road."

I turn back to the mirror. My white tuxedo jacket hangs on the closet door, remaining the ultimate piece to help me embark on the new beginning. Combing through my hair, I can't help but feel a deeper, stronger sense of anticipation and excitement overshadowed the slight performance anxiety. This is it. This is the day I marry the true love of my life. Maxwell is the man who's shown me the true meaning of forgiveness and second chances. Slipping on the jacket, I turn around to face Mr. Baxter while adjusting my bowtie, the final touch before facing the world as Max's husband.

"Let's do this, eh?"