Seeing Abby look so beautiful and so happy was thrilling; we were a lifelong team, and I knew how much this day meant to her. It was a fulfillment, and a celebration of her love for Dane. Sometimes weddings can drown in preparations and overspending and unreachable expectations, but Abby was equal to her event. She was sharing her happiness and having a blast, which made me start to cry, and I worried that I’d embarrass Edgar. But instead his hand found mine as he murmured, “She’s stunning. What a lovely moment.” I couldn’t be sure, but I think Edgar’s voice cracked just a bit; was he also susceptible to all of this wonderfully over-the-top romantic theater?

Abby’s eyes swept the room, aware of a buzz not entirely centered on her. She laser-focused on Edgar. She looked at me. What had I done? I hadn’t told Abby that I’d even met Edgar, because I hadn’t wanted to add to her prenuptial stress or turn the spotlight anywhere near me. I was also superstitious; Abby and I were ultraserious about dating and kissing and the prospect of love, so once I told Abby about a guy, his name would be inscribed in our mythology, and she, of course, would sit me down with an exhaustive checklist (“Okay, so tell me about his neck”) until she knew everything. I trusted Abby’s opinion, so I didn’t want Edgar to appear on her radar until there was a reality to analyze. And on a practical note, I knew that Edgar’s schedule could be variable, so I didn’t want to promise Abby that Edgar was coming to her wedding and then have something interfere and disappoint her.

Beyond all this, on a wickedly selfish level, a tiny part of me thought of Edgar as the ultimate wedding gift, as a special guest star with the potential to stun and delight Abby. But had I been wrongheaded? Was bringing Edgar going to mess with Abby’s agenda and her vision of synagogue splendor? I’d rather die than hurt Abby in any way, and now I was petrified that I’d ruined her bliss for the sake of my royal arm candy.

Abby stared at me and at Edgar as her eyes grew wide and her breathing intensified. I could feel her neurons recalculating the moment, assembling data and churning toward a decision. She opened her mouth to say something, couldn’t, then mustered her full resources and declared:

“OH MY FUCKING GOD. I LOVE IT!!!”