"Can we talk about the wedding now?" Natalie asked Adrian the next morning, after she'd finished breakfast and taken her morning medication. She was propped up in bed – their bed, the one that had formerly been in his apartment – as he sat beside her, reading the newspaper. He was sleeping in the guest room for the time being, as he didn't want to take the chance of accidentally bumping her in his sleep and causing her pain, nor did he want to disturb the elaborate arrangement of pillows she used to support her chest and torso as she slept. But he'd come in to keep her company as she ate breakfast.
"I guess so," he said, slightly reluctantly, folding his newspaper and laying it aside. He'd been dreading this conversation for the last several days. He took a deep breath and said, "I think we should postpone it for a few months, and give you time to fully recover."
He recognized the stubborn set of her chin, and knew what her response would be before she even opened her mouth. "I think we should keep it as June fourth."
"That's not enough time — " he began.
"I disagree," she said. "It's ten weeks away. The doctor said I'd have two weeks of bed rest and six weeks of limited activity, so there's plenty of time."
"The doctor said two, possibly three weeks of bed rest, maybe more depending on your progress," Adrian countered. "Same with the limited activity. If we postpone the wedding for a few months, it gives you a buffer in case you relapse."
"I'm not going to relapse," she scoffed.
"You don't know that," he said, already exasperated. "You haven't even been home for twenty-four hours yet."
"I'm being careful," she said. "I'm taking all my medicine and following Sharona's orders."
"So far," he muttered.
She looked indignant. "I'm not going to take chances. Do you think I want to get worse?"
"No," he said, "but I think you might… overestimate your capabilities at some point. Such as now, when you want to keep planning a wedding while you're on bed rest."
"I can easily plan a wedding while on bed rest," she asserted. "Most of it is just making phone calls, sending e-mails, and doing Internet searches. I'll have Cassandra to do any actual legwork."
"Not all of it," he said. "Do you expect to choose a wedding dress from your bedroom, for example?"
She sighed in frustration. "That can wait until I'm back on my feet. Besides, I need something to do. I'm already bored to tears. It'll help keep me distracted."
"I saw how anxious it was making you," he objected. "You were on the verge of making yourself sick. I don't want that to happen again."
"It wasn't that bad," she said dismissively.
"It was that bad," he insisted. "I've never seen you so tense before."
"It's different now," she argued. "Part of the reason I was so tense before is because it didn't seem like I had enough time to get everything done, what with working and potentially moving on top of wedding planning. But now I have nothing but time for the wedding planning part."
"You can still plan the wedding, but what's wrong with planning it for August instead of June?" he said.
"I don't want to get married in August," she said adamantly. "You and Trudy were married in August. I want us to have our own month."
He had to struggle not to roll his eyes. "September, then."
She shook her head. "That's when Mitch and I got married."
"All right, October."
"I don't want to wait that long," she said obstinately.
"What's the rush?" he asked. "We're already living together."
She folded her arms across her chest, then gasped as her arm accidentally bumped against one of her sore ribs.
"Natalie," he said, distressed. He reached for her arm but she shook him off.
"It's okay," she gulped, her face white with pain. "I just… forgot about my ribs for a minute."
"See?" he said. "How do you expect to be one hundred percent by June fourth if you 'forget' about your ribs?"
She shot him a dirty look. "It didn't start turning cartwheels or anything. I just moved too fast. It happens."
"I don't understand why you're so set on keeping the wedding date," he said, frustrated. "Yes, we might lose our deposit, but I don't care. Your health is more important."
"It's because I don't want them to win!" she erupted.
"Who?" he asked, honestly bewildered.
"Biederbeck," she said. "And Horn." She'd seen a news report about her accident while in the hospital, and had learned about Horn's connection to the case they had worked.
He shook his head. "I don't see what you mean."
"They've already taken so much from us," she said heatedly. "We fought because of Biederbeck, and the accident happened because of Horn. If we have to postpone the wedding because of them, that means they win, don't you see? It means they've managed to take something else from us. Again."
"I don't — "
"Excuse me." Sharona appeared in the doorway. They'd both forgotten the door was ajar. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I could hear you all the way down the hall."
"Sorry," Natalie muttered as she eased into the room.
"Can I make a suggestion?" Sharona asked delicately, sitting on the bed. "Talk to Dr. Harmon or Dr. Hector before you make any decisions. Get their professional opinion on whether or not to move the wedding date."
Adrian and Natalie exchanged a glance. "I suppose," Natalie said reluctantly.
"I'm seeing Dr. Bell today," Adrian said tentatively. "I could ask him if Dr. Hector could drop by sometime this week."
"What about you?" Natalie asked Sharona. "What's your professional opinion?"
"Well…" Sharona hesitated slightly. "On one hand, I can see Adrian's point. The most sensible option would be to postpone the wedding until you're fully recovered."
"Thank you," Adrian said, a trifle smugly.
"But," Sharona continued, "on the other hand, I can see Natalie's point. It's important for her to keep herself occupied, especially while confined to bed, and planning the wedding would be a useful distraction. Having the wedding to look forward to, having it as a goal to work towards, could also be beneficial for her recovery. And ten weeks out should be adequate recovery time, if all goes well."
"Thank you," Natalie said, also smug.
"But I really think you should consult a doctor before making plans either way," Sharona advised. "And you need to listen to their recommendation." She glanced at Natalie. "Even if that means pushing the wedding back to October. Or even July."
Natalie made a face. "July's too hot."
Adrian threw up his arms. "What does it matter? The hotel has air conditioning."
"The ceremony is on the terrace."
"The shaded terrace."
"It'd still be hot."
"Oh, for – "
"Adrian," Sharona said, a warning in her tone.
He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I'll talk to Dr. Bell today and see if Dr. Hector can drop by this week, all right?" he said resignedly. "Let's just table the discussion until we talk to her."
Natalie sighed. "Agreed."
"Good," Sharona said brightly. "Now, Adrian, you leave so Natalie can rest." She shot him a look and he didn't dare object.
"Okay," he said, rising from the bed. "I might as well do some more packing. Your parents are due in this afternoon." He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. "I'll see you later."
