“I need Darcy.” Wow, that statement feels more true than it should. “The ceremony is about to start, and I’m supposed to escort her to her seat.”

“Come on in. Darcy and Brandi are out on the piazza with the photographer.”

As I followed her through the door, I understood why Jared asked me to stay away from his Auntie. James was gorgeous. She was tall and slim, like her sister. Had the same bright copper brown eyes and luminous reddish-toned skin. But there was also something mean about her. Like she’d kiss you with a razor blade tucked behind her bottom lip. Don’t get me wrong, that definitely had its appeal, but I just didn’t see it for her. Not the way I did for Darcy.

The photographer was capturing a staged but tender moment between Darcy and her soon-to-be daughter-in-law. Brandi was all done up in a dress that made her look like a cupcake — frothy and covered in confectioner’s sugar. Jared was gonna fall over when he saw her.

“Tomás!” Brandi exclaimed, dabbing at her eyes. “Is it time already?”

“Almost! I’m here to collect the mother of the groom and to give you this—”

“Is that Jared’s wedding gift?” the photographer asked.

“Uh…yeah?”

“Don’t give it to her yet. I want to get some shots of you handing it to her and her opening it.” All at once, the photographer grabbed me, positioned me opposite Brandi, and took a couple of test shots.

Jared and I had spent most of yesterday afternoon looking for the perfect gift for Brandi. I’d given him all sorts of lists and articles for him to reference, but in the end, he’d settled on something she could wear every day: a gold bracelet fashioned to look like a stethoscope that, when clasped, looked like an infinity sign. It seemed a bit cheesy and on the nose to me, but Jared swore she would love it.

I reached into my breast pocket and pulled out the card and the jewelry box, carefully avoiding the rings tied together with a piece of ribbon — and the condoms I’d stowed in there for later. Brandi looked up at me, tears already welling in her eyes.

“So, who picked this out for me?” she asked playfully, well aware of the dynamic between me and her husband. She knew he wasn’t the thoughtful type and was totally okay with the fact that he relied on me to help him buy her birthday and Christmas gifts. She’d even shared her bridal Pinterest board with me when they started talking about marriage to make sure he bought the right ring.

“You know me. I planned everything, and I had a list of things he could choose from, but he chose this all on his own.”

“Oh, lord,” she said, rolling her eyes. “What’s in here?”

“Read the card first.”