I slip the smaller of the two bands on her finger, and watch—breathless—as she slides the other one on mine. Then, I grab my wife around her waist and crash my mouth to hers. “Amen,” the three voices say in unison. Boisterous clapping fills the room, but it’s suddenly cut off by the sound of something big hitting the floor. “Fuck, Mazur,” Sergei exclaims. “Your priest number three just fainted!”
