“We’ll see,” Hazard said.

It was a night of people, talking, laughter, and good food. It was perfect. Somers felt electric. When Hazard joined him again, one arm loose and heavy over Somers’s shoulders, Somers felt ten times better than electric.

“You should eat,” Hazard said when the flow of people broke for a moment.

“I don’t need to eat,” Somers said. He couldn’t stop grinning.

Hazard kissed his cheek. “You really like this, huh?”

“I really do.”

Hazard whispered in his ear, “I still think a bridge abutment would have been better.”

Somers laughed and pushed him away to get drinks.

Then there was dancing, and they had modified tradition so that they each danced with their mother. Somers’s mother was lovely as always, toned and coiffed and tan and perfectly preserved under the cosmetics. He caught a whiff of her perfume, Chanel, and felt like a kid again as they whirled across the dance floor. When the song ended, she touched his cheek and said, “I’m very happy for you.”

When Somers found Hazard for their dance, Hazard’s eyes were red.

“Are you ok?” Somers asked.

“Fine,” Hazard said with one of those Emery Hazard smiles. “I want to dance with my husband.”

“My flat ass isn’t going to stop you?”

“As Rebeca said: it’s all relative.”

“This is not the Pretty Pretty, Mr. Hazard,” Somers warned as he let Hazard take the lead. “You can’t grind on me in front of God and these good people.”

Smirking, Hazard said, “I can do whatever I want. It’s my wedding day.”

Hazard’s eyes, though, kept drifting back to his mother.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” Somers asked.

“I’m sure.” They danced a little longer, and then he said, “She said she thinks my dad would be happy for me. She thinks he liked you.”

Somers swallowed and touched Hazard’s jaw. “Will you kiss me, please?”

Hazard did, and Somers barely heard the roar of cheers and applause.

They left just after the party had peaked; Maria had coordinated everything, and the crowd was already downstairs, waiting on the covered driveway where the Mustang was waiting. The guests formed an aisle for Hazard and Somers, and Somers grinned as eco-friendly confetti and bubbles drifted around them, mixed with the cheers and shouts and congratulations. At the Mustang, they stopped, kissed one last time—Somers liked to give a good show—and then wedding poppers started to go off.

He spun, trying to figure out where the noise was coming from. He had specifically told Maria no poppers. No firecrackers. Nothing like that. Nothing that might trigger Hazard.

When he looked at his husband, though, Hazard was smiling at him.

“You’re not—” Somers fumbled for words. “But they’re—and it sounds like—and you aren’t—Ree!”

Hazard slid both arms around Somers and pulled him tight. “I told Maria to add them back in. I thought you’d be happy.”

“You tricked me,” Somers said. “God damn it. You knew this whole time? Please tell me you didn’t know this whole time.”