the sight of the short aisle makes my head spin. I tug at the collar of my shirt because it suddenly feels too tight. Tripp’s hand finds mine. “You good?” Am I? “I think so.” “We can still back out.” I clear my throat. “Nope. We’re here now. Let’s go.” And even though my hand is clammy, he doesn’t drop it until we reach the front and things get started. My knowledge of weddings is that they’re long and boring, which comes from sitting through all those enormous weddings my teammates have had. But in what seems like no time at all, the officiant is asking for the rings. I reach for the
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