Nick forgot a line of his vows and had to start again. My dad cried.
I loved every second.
Our reception was at our favorite restaurant, exactly where Nick wanted it.
Martha had complained for months that it wasn’t formal enough.
Nick refused to budge.
I loved every second.
“I want the pasta from our first anniversary, those potatoes you steal off my plate, and tomorrow I don’t want us cleaning up after a hundred people.”
That settled it.
We wanted food we loved without the fuss of cleaning afterward.
It felt like us.
We wanted food we loved.
***
Caroline hugged me when she arrived.
“This feels exactly like you two.”
Martha gave a tight smile.
“I still think they should’ve chosen somewhere more appropriate.”
Caroline frowned.
“I don’t.”
“This feels exactly like you two.”
Martha noticed.
So did I.
***
Later, I found Martha needling my father.
“This must all feel rather different for your family.”
I stepped between them.
“Dad. Please. Let her walk away.”
Martha noticed.
Martha did.
Dad lowered his voice.
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