Ethan looked toward the window.
"You really believe she'll do it?"
"I believe you believe she will. That's enough for me to wait."
The ceremony was beautiful.
Whatever else Diane had controlled, she could not control the way Chloe looked when she reached the aisle and saw Ethan waiting. Her face changed completely. All the tension of the morning disappeared. She smiled through tears, and Ethan's shoulders dropped as though he had finally exhaled after three months.
Harold sat beside Martha in the third row, exactly where Simone had placed them after Diane insisted the first two rows remain for the Whitfield side and "photographically cohesive family groupings."
Martha whispered, "If she moves us any farther back, we're going to need binoculars."
Harold squeezed her hand.
When Ethan and Chloe exchanged vows, the room became still.
"I promise to stand by you in every room," Ethan said, voice unsteady, "in front of everyone, even when standing is difficult."
Chloe's eyes filled.
When it was her turn, she looked at him for several seconds before speaking.
"I promise to always see you," she said. "Not what you have. Not what anyone else says you should be. Just you."
Harold felt Martha's fingers tighten around his.
The words were beautiful.
He hoped she meant them when it became expensive.
After the ceremony, the photographer gathered families on the grand staircase.
"Immediate family first," the assistant called.
Harold and Martha stepped forward with the Whitfields.
Simone intercepted them.
"Not yet," she said. "We'll call you."
Ethan turned. "They're immediate family."
Diane was already arranging her sister beside Chloe. "Ethan, please. We have a sequence."
"The sequence includes my parents."
"Of course. Later."
The photographer looked uncertain.
Chloe stood between her mother and new husband, frozen.
Harold caught Ethan's eye and gave the smallest shake of his head.
Not yet.
Ethan's jaw tightened.
Martha walked away without complaint.
They were eventually photographed alone with the couple near a side window after most of the formal session ended.
The picture would later become Chloe's favorite from the entire wedding.
At the time, it felt like an afterthought.
When Harold and Martha entered the reception ballroom, Diane stood near the entrance with Simone.
"Deliveries around the side," Diane said without looking directly at them.
Then she recognized Harold.
"Oh. It's you."
Harold smiled. "Good afternoon, Diane. You look lovely."
For once, even Martha admired the restraint.
Diane recovered quickly. "Table 19. Back of the room, past the bar."
"We know the way."
As they walked off, Martha muttered, "You should receive a medal."
"I already have a key to the executive suite."
"Not the same thing."
The first service cart hit the back of Harold's chair nineteen minutes after they sat down.
The server apologized profusely.
Harold moved the chair two inches.
The second incident involved a tray of wine. A young banquet server pushed through the kitchen doors at the exact moment another staff member stepped backward. Two glasses tipped, and red wine splashed across the edge of Table 19 and onto Martha's sleeve.
The server's face went white.