Chapter 4
As autumn set in, as New York prepared itself with big cozy sweaters and colorful umbrellas and long scarves, their invitations went out. A Midwinter wedding. The season they’d fallen in love, or acknowledged being in love, and saved each other.
Anna phoned to ask whether they’d booked a photographer yet because she’d been going down wedding checklists and hadn’t seen anything about it. Kris said, “Hang on, we’ll call you back,” and went and found Justin, who was halfway through assembling a massive pot of what’d be homemade spaghetti sauce. “Ah. Can we even have a photographer?”
He wanted to. He hadn’t realized just how badly until right this second. He wanted pictures of himself and the man he loved on the day they stood up to proclaim that love.
He knew it’d be tricky. Dem
