Currently the bride, groom and wedding party are outside taking photos. I can’t wait to give my friend a hug and congratulate her. She was beaming throughout the entire ceremony, she was so happy.

What’s that like, finding someone who makes you smile so much your face hurts? I don’t have a clue. Though at one point, I believed I did.

I find a gorgeous table not too far from the entry, where we can sign our name on a giant matte frame that I assume they’ll use for a wedding photo of the two of them. There’s also a seating chart on display. Which is really just a list of the guests written in perfect calligraphy with a number by their name. I spot my number—eight.

“Amelia! There you are.” I turn to find Stella standing in front of me, her boyfriend—our friend Caroline’s older brother—planted firmly by her side. They make a very attractive couple, especially when they’re decked out in wedding finery.

“Hey guys,” I greet them. “Are you at table eight?”

“We’re at ten,” Stella answers, smiling up at Carter, who’s watching her as if she can walk on water. I can’t help the stab of envy that hits me right in the heart. “Wasn’t the wedding gorgeous? Only Candice would get married at a tree farm.”

“Well, her husband does actually own the tree farm,” I remind her, making them both laugh. “What? It’s not that funny. It’s the truth.”

Stella removes herself from Carter’s side and comes a little closer to me, her voice dropping. “Where’s your Jonesie?”

I make a face. I completely forgot all about the mysterious Jonesie. Sort of. “I have no idea.”

Come on. How in the world is Candice supposed to pair me up with this guy when she’s got an entire reception to take care of and hundreds of people to talk to? This meeting with Jonesie is never going to happen. Though maybe we’ll talk to each other since we’re supposed to be at the same table—if he shows up.

Oh dear. That kind of freaks me out.

“I suppose you’ll meet him at your table,” Stella says like she’s read my mind. “We’re going to the bar. Want to come with?”

“Please,” I say. I definitely need a drink to get through this evening. Weddings are kind of depressing to me. My ex and I talked about getting married. Of course we did. We were together for a couple of years. At one point, I believed I’d be the first of my friends to be married.

Now, I’m the furthest thing from married, and while I’m not as torn up over it as I was when I went to Caroline and Alex’s wedding, I’m still a little melancholy. The entire moment seems bittersweet. To have what you thought was a solid relationship with a man, at one point so confident it would last forever, only for your relationship to completely fall apart, is very distressing.

It leaves you unanchored. Drifting.