Hannah was satisfied with either fictional outcome, whether it was rejecting Tom or the cinematic lovemaking. Replaying one fantasy or the other in her mind had made it easier to fall asleep for the past few months. It had certainly made it easier to diet and exercise in preparation for the wedding.

Of course, even after losing weight and getting an overpriced haircut and manicure with the bridal party that morning, Hannah believed she looked horribly unpolished next to the camera-ready, radiant matron of honor. Dawn was technically just the wife of one of Bee’s law-school buddies, but she was part of the pack that had become Bee’s second family since college.

Bee was a lawyer now. And a southerner. The quiet, most studious member of Hannah’s bunch at Syracuse University had made good on her unspoken promise to her family that she become an attorney, like her father, and get married before she turned thirty. Bee’s only surprising postcollege decision was choosing to marry Matt, who, unlike Bee’s family, was boisterous and emotive.

Bee had fallen in love with Matt Fee during their first year of law school at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. She hoped to be an estate planner. He would become the in-house attorney for his family’s granite company as soon as he passed the bar. By marrying Matt and changing her name—which she planned to do—Bee would become Bee Fee. This didn’t seem to bother her.

“Bee isn’t my real name,” Bee had told Hannah, shortly after the engagement was announced. “My name is Beth, if you remember correctly. It will be Beth Fee.”

“No one calls you Beth, Bee,” Hannah had responded dryly through the phone. “Bee Fee? Who wants to hire a lawyer named Bee Fee? It sounds like ‘beefy.’ Can you please keep your maiden name?”

“I’m going to use it as my middle name. Beth Evans Fee. I’ll still be Bee. Just Evans instead of Eleanor.”

“Ugh, Bee, it sounds so stupid. Bee Fee, Esq.”

“Hannah, will you please not ruin this?”

“Fine,” Hannah had said, muttering a last “Bee Fee” to herself.

Bee had only mentioned her friend Dawn to Hannah a few times over the past year, which is why Hannah had been surprised to hear that the much younger spouse of one of Bee’s law-school friends had earned matron of honor status so quickly.

Sensing Hannah’s distrust of Dawn over the phone, Bee had tried to justify her new friend’s quick promotion.

“This isn’t just about who’s my closest friend, Hannah. You know you’re more important in my life, but I need someone who can help me with the maid of honor’s duties, like the shopping and the showers. You hate this stuff—planning frilly parties. Dawn loves it. She lives for it.”

“I’m not offended, Bee. I don’t need to be your maid of honor. I do hate this stuff—passionately. But what about Jackie? You’ve known her since you were born. Isn’t she going to feel slighted?”