Page 58 of All Our Nevers

I look from Andy to Nolan and back again. “We are talking about your brother, right? Owen Walsh?”

“Yeah, look, I know,” Andy says. “I was surprised too. But you know… He’s a good guy.”

He shrugs it off like that’s explanation enough, meanwhile my mind is still whirling. And that’s exactly when the man in question bursts through the door, all smiles and jocularity.

“Andy! Sorry I’m late.” Owen clasps his brother in a bear hug then pulls back, holding him by the shoulders. “You look great. You ready?”

Andy smiles, and it’s big and genuine with both his dimples showing. “Yeah, I am.”

Rows of white silk-backed chairs face the altar set between towering bookshelves of red oak, one hundred of their closest friends and family members waiting in neat rows.

As the officiant, Nolan enters first, dressed sharply in a black suit, white shirt, and hunter green tie, proud as punch as he strides to the front with his remarks binder in hand. I walk in next, followed by Owen, followed by Andy. He’s doing an admirable job of keeping his cool, but I know that tiny furrow in his brow too well. He’s not made for crowds or attention like this.

But that tension on his face only lasts a minute, because his entire expression shifts as Sophie enters the hall.

She is so, so beautiful. And so bridal. The chiffon of her white dress flows with each step down the aisle, accentuating her soft curves and peachy, freckled skin. I’m actually getting a little choked up looking at her, but when my gaze travels back to Andy, that’s when I fully lose it.

The rest of the world has fallen away in his eyes. There’s only Sophie. His best friend in the world, soon to be his wife. Ten years of longing and wishing and hoping for her pour from his eyes as the first tears travel down his cheeks, and there’s no self-consciousness there. Just the tender, small smile of a man sharing a perfect moment with the woman he loves.

When Sophie reaches the makeshift altar, she gives me her bouquet and takes Andy’s hands, then reaches up to wipe a tear from his cheek.

She whispers, “Hey, it’s okay.”

He whispers back, “Yeah, it’s perfect.”

Nolan isn’t oblivious to the moment—how could he be—so he gingerly steps up to the mic, looking between Andy and Sophie for confirmation they’re ready before he begins.

“Good evening everyone. We are gathered here today to celebrate the marriage of Sophia Lindell and Andrew Walsh. But before I talk about them, I want to talk about something even more important: me.”

The crowd laughs with him as he launches into a borderline fictional account of how Sophie and Andy first met in the college dorm room that he and Andy shared, taking a completely nonsensical amount of credit for the two of them getting together. But then, once the ice is broken and there are smiles on every face in the room—and I’ve pulled my own emotions back into check—the rest of his remarks hold his signature sincerity.

He speaks to our two best friends, the amazing people they’ve become over the last ten years, and all the ways they bring out the best in each other. I’m emotional by the end of it, and even from behind her I can hear Sophie crying too. But it’s Andy’s red-rimmed eyes and wobbly smile that send me over the edge again. He mouths “I love you” to Sophie, and she mouths it back, and no amount of determination can stop the tears that finally slip from my eyes.

Sophie and Andy wrote their own vows, but they shared them in private before the ceremony. So now, before their friends and family, they simply pledge to love each other in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, as long as they both shall live.

I watch Owen swipe something from his own cheek as Andy places the gold band on Sophie’s finger. It’s the most I’ve ever liked him.

Nolan brings the ceremony to a close, declaring, “By the power vested in me by the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Andy says, “Finally,” as he reaches up to cup both sides of Sophie’s face and press his lips to hers. It’s tender and passionate and so, so loving.

The crowd is cheering, up on their feet, and they still haven’t broken their kiss as Nolan declares, “For the very first time, it is my honor to present the newly married couple: Andy and Sophie Walsh.”

They finally pull apart, but Andy’s hands are still on her face, eyes locked on his wife’s as he mouths, “Sophie Walsh.”

She nods, and he can’t seem to help it—he leans forward to kiss her once more.

I swear I’m really not a crier in my normal life, but this is simply too much. I’m a sobbing mess by the time Andy lets her go, then reaches down to take her hand and start their recession down the aisle. My two best friends and the happy ending they deserve.

The reception is roaring, the drinks are flowing, and the DJ is sticking to the list of approved songs. My work here is finally done.

I cut away from the party under the guise of fixing my makeup, but really I just needed a little breather.

The library’s upper balcony is secluded—two stories above the main action of the reception and a perfect spot to collect myself without really missing a moment. It’s actually less of a balcony than a long, thin room with one open wall onto the main event space.

Only those of us in the wedding party even learned how to get up here, so I expect to be alone. Instead, I find a hulking figure in a black best man’s suit leaning against the railing. His usually perfect posture is slouched, wooden banister bearing most of his weight, amber liquid in his glass.

I walk up, getting close enough to bump his shoulder with my own as I ask, “You good?”