I always thought our wedding would be the kind of day that exhaled—no spotlights, no spectacles, just vows under trees and the people who love us most. Evan and I are the quiet sort. He’s the kind who brings me coffee on Sundays and sings wildly off-key in the car; I’m the kind who cries at dog rescue videos and hoards recipe cards. We hike, we dance stupid in the kitchen, we go to bed early. He feels like home. We planned the ceremony at my aunt’s farmhouse, with string lights, barbecue, and a bluegrass band that sounds better the...
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