Donovan asked a private investigator he used on a lot of his cases at work to poke around in Braden’s relationships that had come after me over the years. That’s how we came to know about Sarina Emmitt, a woman Braden had dated for a year after me. The investigator had spoken to one of Sarina’s previous coworkers and found out that two weeks before she abruptly quit and moved back home to Ohio, she’d shown up to work on a Monday morning with a black eye and told people she’d been mugged. Her friend had wondered if that was actually true, because she’d seemed really rattled, and some of the details of her story didn’t quite add up. The investigator checked the story with the police and found no mugging ever reported. So I took a chance and booked a trip to Ohio.

At first, Sarina vehemently denied that anything had happened to her. But I shared my story with her and knew from her face that she was lying. I was disappointed, but I didn’t want to push a victim. So I’d left her my cell phone number and flown home the next day. Twenty-three days later, she called. She hadn’t been able to sleep since I left and was ready to tell her story. That call changed everything. Unlike me, Sarina had evidence. She’d had a Ring doorbell, the kind that took video of everyone coming and going, and she’d saved the footage from the night Braden attacked her—video that included her answering the door without a black eye, and Braden leaving an hour later with scratch marks all over his face. She even had an image of her walking out the next morning with a black eye, though no one else had entered. Sarina had tried to fight Braden off and lost. She’d been in shock and devastated, but somehow, she’d had the wherewithal to keep her torn clothes, too.

Hand in hand, Sarina and I went to the police together. Braden was arrested three weeks later and charged with two counts of first-degree forcible rape. And unfortunately, while that may have further justified Donovan’s actions, his assault case continued moving forward—until Cara, Braden’s now ex-fiancée, came forward to tell the police Braden had actually started the fight, and Donovan was only defending himself. Apparently, she’d had a flicker of doubt about her fiancé since she’d seen my face that day. And after hearing Sarina’s story, she couldn’t deny the truth anymore. We’d been good friends in elementary school, and she wanted to help me, which in her mind meant telling a little white lie.

I don’t actually think the prosecutor believed her, but it had given them a reason to drop the charges against Donovan.

“Right this way, please,” the maître d’ said.

“I wonder if the others are here yet,” I mused.

“Guess we’ll find out,” Donovan said.

We followed the maître d’ through the lobby and into a long hallway. I’d been to Tavern on the Green a few times before, but I’d always been seated in the main dining room. We turned left and then right, and at the end of that hall was a set of double doors.

Rather than opening them, the maître d’ stopped and smiled at Donovan. “I’ll let you seat Dr. Wilde.”

“Thank you.”

My forehead wrinkled as he walked away. “He’s letting us pick any table we want?”

Donovan brushed a lock of hair behind my ear. “I guess you can say that. Before we go inside, I just want to say one more time how proud I am of you. Not just for graduating, but also for everything you’ve gone through over the last year. I know it wasn’t easy.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Donovan smiled. “That’s nice of you to say, but total bullshit. You can do anything. I’m just lucky to be along for the ride, Red.” He brushed his lips against mine before holding out his elbow to me. “You ready to celebrate, Dr. Wilde?”

I laughed and took his arm. “You’re acting weird, but yes, I’m ready.”

Donovan opened the double doors, and we walked inside. Skye and her boyfriend, and my dad and his new girlfriend (Yes, he got divorced again.) were already seated.

“Hey, guys!”

Skye stood. “I hope you don’t think I’m paying you to listen to my shit now that you’re a big, fancy doctor.”

I laughed. “Never.”

We hugged. But as I went to say hello to her boyfriend, I noticed a familiar face over Skye’s shoulder. My eyes widened. “Oh my God. Is that Storm?”

He smiled. He looked adorable in a shirt and tie. But who was he here with? I scanned the table and got even more confused. Half the staff I worked with at Park House was here, too. I glanced over at Donovan, and he leaned in.

“I wouldn’t let them yell surprise because I didn’t want to scare the shit out of you,” he whispered. “But keep looking…”

I scanned the room, and there had to be a hundred people—friends of mine, friends of Donovan’s, people from my work and school, Bud and his lady friend, Donovan’s new partners Juliette and Trent (They’d all left Kravitz, Polk and Hastings three months ago and started their own firm together.), and Trent’s new fiancée, Margo, was smiling, too.

I clutched my chest and turned to Donovan. “Oh my God. You did all this for me? How did you even contact everyone?”

“I had a lot of help from Storm and Skye. You deserved a graduation party.”

“This is crazy. But thank you so much!” I threw my arms around his neck and crushed my lips to his. “I love you.”

“Right back atcha, Red.”

I rubbed my nose with Donovan’s. “Did you know some of the topiary Edward trimmed in Edward Scissorhands used to be on display here before the restaurant closed for a few years?”

Donovan laughed and kissed my forehead. “You’re just a plethora of useless information, Dr. Wilde. It’s one of the things I love about you.”

For the next half hour, I made my way around the room to greet people. Donovan stayed dutifully by my side, only disappearing occasionally to refill my wine glass. And people were handing me presents! I was completely overwhelmed. By the time we’d visited the last table, both our hands were full again. There was a long buffet table off to one side of the room where we’d been piling up gift bags and boxes. We walked over and set the last batch down, and I looked around one more time.

“I still can’t believe you did all this. And all of these people came to celebrate with me.” I pointed to the gifts and shook my head. “All of these are just over the top.”

Donovan wrapped his arms around my waist. “Well, I still didn’t give you my present.”

“You mean there’s more than just a giant party at a fancy restaurant in the middle of Central Park? Pretty sure you can’t top all of this.”

Donovan smirked. “You know I love a challenge.” He kissed my forehead. “Stay right here for a minute.”

I watched as he walked over to Skye and came back with two glasses of champagne. Handing one to me, I thought we were going to have a quiet little celebration drink. But instead, he cleared his throat and yelled, “Can I have everyone’s attention, please?”

The room had been rumbling with voices but settled down.

“Thank you.” He smiled. “I just wanted to make a toast, and then I promise I’ll let you all eat.”