The thing he said that wasn't in his prepared remarks happened during the exchange of vows.
He had prepared remarks. She knew this — he'd mentioned it, the careful man's approach to an emotional occasion, the writing down and the revision. She'd prepared her own, working through them until they felt like the truth rather than the performance of the truth, and she'd been satisfied with them.
Her vows she'd thought about for weeks. She said them clearly, in the garden, with the wisteria moving very slightly in the coastal wind. She said that she chose him not because the road had brought them here but because she would choose it again, knowing every part of it. She said she intended to be honest with him for the rest of her life, which was the promise she could make most completely, becaus
