“That sounds amazing,” he says, kissing my forehead. “My manager is here. I’ll ask him tonight if I can take some time off.”

As the music transitions to a new song, more couples begin to fill the dance floor. Liv leads Sophie into a bobbing sort of waltz, and though their dance is off-kilter, their eyes are bright and glowing. I’m so happy for them. I see my mom pull my dad into the center of the crowd—he hates to dance—and I watch as Raj’s parents join, too. Carmen, never one to miss a good time, sweeps onto the dance floor in a ruffled cocktail dress the color of a good pinot noir. At first, I see her dancing with friends, but a few songs later, she taps me on the shoulder.

“Raj, may I cut in?” she asks.

He obliges. “Sure.”

I squeeze Carmen’s hands. “This is good, right? You’re having fun?”

“Of course! But listen . . . I debated showing you this, but I feel like you might want to see it,” Carmen says, offering me my phone.

Blake texted me. It’s short. His name feels like a sucker punch to the gut—I just wasn’t expecting it.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you today. You’re a beautiful bride. I hope you’re happy.” That’s the entire message.

Carmen stares at me with her teeth sunk into her lip, like an anxious squirrel.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

I furrow my brow at my phone screen and hand it back to her. “Yeah? Yeah. I mean, that’s bizarrely nice of him. He didn’t have to say anything. But it feels good to know that he doesn’t totally hate me, which he has full license to do.”

It feels odd to think about Blake in the midst of my wedding. At first, after our breakup, I couldn’t imagine going through with today without him by my side. But now, our entire relationship feels so hazy and far away. Today feels right, exactly as it is.

Sharon, the event manager, sidles up to us.

“Sorry, ladies, don’t mean to interrupt,” she says. “But, Eliza, are you free for an interview now? A reporter from The Knot is here.”

“Absolutely,” I tell Sharon.

What happens next will be just as important as the wedding ceremony, if not more: I offered an exclusive interview and social media promotion to The Knot in exchange for $5,000. Once their story publishes, I’m hoping it will be picked up by other wedding publications.

“Hi! I’m Jen from The Knot,” a woman squeals, enveloping me in a hug and performing an air kiss. “I don’t want to mess up your makeup,” she explains.

“Hi!” I say, ramping up my voice to match her sorority-girl enthusiasm.