Seb fell into a crouch and grabbed the back of his head for a second. He sighed and answered the phone. “Hey, buddy.”

“Hey, it’s Ty.”

“Everything all right?”

“Yeah, Matty’s just finishing up in the bath, and I wanted to see how the wedding was going before he got on the phone to say good night.”

“Great. It’s great.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line that let Seb know he wasn’t fooling anyone. “Then why do you sound like you’re about to go play in traffic? Did something happen with Via? I thought tonight was gonna be the night.”

Seb considered not answering. The Polaroid pulsed in his pocket again, and he pulled it out. “Things were good at the beginning. Like pretty clear that something was gonna happen, you know? We were all flirty and shit.” Seb sighed.

“Yeah? And then what?”

“And then my colleague took a fucking Polaroid picture of us.”

“Pervy.”

“Shut up,” Seb said, laughing despite himself. “They leave Polaroid cameras around for the guests so you can add your picture to the guestbook, I guess.”

“So what’s wrong with that?”

Seb looked at the picture in his hand. The sight of it made his stomach curl. He could see now that he’d been totally swept away since that happy hour last week. He’d been surfing a wave of adrenaline and desire for her. The only things that had existed were the ideas of more and closer. Reality had fallen by the wayside. But now he had evidential proof of reality in the form of a Polaroid and it was bitter as hell.

“I look old enough to be her father in this picture.” The truth fell out of him like a dead fish onto a dock. “I’ve never really seen us together before, side by side like that. But she looks all young and fresh. She’s laughing and leaning on me. And I look like Hugh fucking Hefner.”

For months, he’d been slowly circling around the reason the age difference bothered him so much. And here was the answer, in convenient photograph form. He looked at this picture and he saw his own age. How much further down the walk of life he was than she. He knew exactly how it felt to bury a spouse. He’d lived through that excruciating hell. How could he ever allow himself to dump that possibility on someone else? He knew he was majorly getting ahead of himself, but if things worked out between them, he was pretty much guaranteeing that she’d be the one to put him in the ground someday. How could he ever do that to her? Especially knowing what she’d been through with her parents. It was reprehensible. Inexcusable.

“Seb, I’m sure that’s not true. Your age difference isn’t that extreme, and you’re not that old.”

“Well, I look decrepit in this photo. Old as shit. Half my fucking head is gray hairs? How come you didn’t think to mention that to me? Hey, Sebastian, just so you know, you look like it’s time to get your AARP card.”