“I did.”
When my turn came, I had planned vows.
Good ones too.
I’d written and practiced them.
But looking at her in that ridiculous suit, I forgot half of them.
So I told the truth.
“You have this way of seeing things I don’t say.”
Claire started crying.
“I think sometimes you know what I need before I do.”
“And apparently, sometimes what I need is to see you wearing my father’s suit and walking towards me.”
She laughed through her tears.
I continued. “I love you. I love how much care you put into people.”
“And I promise I will spend the rest of my life trying to give you the same kind of love you give me.”
We exchanged rings.
Then we kissed.
The photographer captured us immediately afterward in what became one of my favorite
Claire is laughing.
I’m crying.
My mother’s crying behind us.
Aaron looks like he’s trying not to.
And Claire is absolutely swimming in my dead father’s suit.
After the ceremony, we took pictures in it before she changed.
My mother insisted on getting one alone with Claire.
She stood beside her, touched the sleeve, and said, “Richard would have thought this was hilarious.”
Claire smiled. “I hope he wouldn’t be mad.”
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“Are you kidding? He would’ve told everyone it looked better on you.”
Then Mom looked at me. “He’d be proud of you, Danny.”
Claire changed into her actual wedding dress before the reception.
When she came out, I finally got the traditional moment I’d imagined.
She wore a simple white dress with a fitted waist and lace along the back.
She looked incredible.
She turned in a little circle. “Better?”
I walked over
and kissed her. “Different.”
“Good different?”
“Very good different.”
She smiled.
“So you’re not divorcing me over the suit?”
“We’ve been married for 45 minutes.”
“So that’s a no?”
“Ask me after the cake.”
