“Am I wrong?” Gideon pressed.
Judah huffed out a breath. “You know you’re not. Does she really think she’s a passing interest for me?”
“In her defense,” Liana said wryly, “she’s been treated as such by a whole bunch of people in her life, including you. So if you’re in this for the long haul, you need to tell her that in a way she has no choice but to hear. I refuse to believe that someone we’re paying this much to sing at our wedding doesn’t know how to use his voice where it counts.”
Suddenly, the beginnings of a plan crept into his brain. “Okay, I may have an idea, but—”
“Will it get you and Ari together?” Liana cut in.
“If she wants it to,” said Judah.
“Perfect. We’re in. Now leave us alone so I can make out with my fiancé, because I just learned that Gideon in ‘romantic advice mode’ is super hot. Call him later with the details, and go away now.”
Judah was still laughing when Liana hung up.
Liana and Gideon’s chuppah was unbearable.
Not in the same way as Bella’s, with an overstuffed chuppah and brutally painful heels—both Liana and Ari had learned their lessons from that experience—but Ari was practically swaying onher feet all the same, listening to the heartbreaking voice of the guy who had given up on her sing her best friend through the happiest day of her life.
At least it clearly, truly was that—Liana and Gideon could not have looked more in love. Judah’s voice was, as always, utterly flawless, though only partly to blame for the tears springing to Ari’s eyes as she watched Liana circle Gideon, not-so-subtly counting out each rotation on her fingers until she hit seven. And when the witnesses came up to watch Gideon put a ring on Liana’s finger and proclaim her his wife, the tears came tumbling down.
Ari looked down at the engagement ring on her own finger—Liana’s simple, beautiful round solitaire, given to her as a segulah for her own match someday. Custom dictated disseminating your jewelry to the single women closest to you for the chuppah so that the only jewelry you wore under your marriage canopy was your new ring; being given the engagement ring was the highest honor possible.
She just wished it didn’t feel so much like salt in her wounded heart.
Thankfully, there wasn’t a lot of emotion during either the reading of the ketubah or the sheva brachot, which gave Ari some time to compose herself. But when Judah started up her favorite version of “Im Eshkachech”—the one he first sang at Aleah’s wedding—and Gideon broke the glass, the shatter took the last of Ari’s composure with it.
Everything was broken.
Living with Liana was over.
Being somebody’s Person was over.
And after tonight, she had no idea if she’d ever see Judah again.
The ache in her heart was overwhelming, but as the trumpets sounded and the cheering erupted, there was no time for her feelings. She had a job to do, and dancing your best friend in the world back down the aisle wasn’t a task you hoped to performtwice. She wiped the tears off her face as neatly as she could, prayed her eye makeup wasn’t everywhere, raised her fist in the air, and belted “Od Yishamah” as if her life depended on it.
It was a long walk to the yichud room, where the new bride and groom went to spend their first minutes as a married couple together in private, and on either side of her, Bella and Aliza were singing and dancing wildly enough to compensate for any lackluster moves on her part. At one point, she caught Akiva’s eye, and he gave her a friendly wink that suggested he was having an equally wonderful time.
Liana blew one last kiss to everyone before she and Gideon shut themselves in solitude, where Ari felt reasonably certain her best friend was going to throw herself at her new husband like a baby koala. The crowd dispersed, save for Danny and Akiva, who were serving as eidim, guarding the yichud room from any potential interlopers.
It struck Ari that this was the point in the wedding when she and Liana would run off to the bar together, but that obviously wouldn’t be happening this time around. A quick glance around revealed that Bella was already linked back up with Zach, Noah was flirting in a corner with Emily, and Danny and Akiva had their tasks, while Ari was—
“Hi.”
She whirled around, and there was Judah, looking obnoxiously hot in a perfectly fitting tux, a Shirley Temple in hand. In that instant, she saw it—a future in which he was Her Person who meets up with her outside the yichud room—and the way she craved it nearly knocked her off her feet. “Hi.” The word stuck in her throat. “You were great.”
“Thanks.” He held out the drink. “Figured I’d save you ten minutes waiting on line at the bar.”
“That was sweet,” she said with uncharacteristic softness. “Thankyou.” She took the glass but didn’t take a sip, opting for a deep breath to infuse her with courage instead. “Listen, I—”
“I’m sorry, I gotta run. I only had a few minutes, and I got inspired. I have to go set up now.” His smile was apologetic, but it left her gutted. That was it? That was the entire conversation they were going to have? Not even a word about how she looked in her dress? “It was good to see you,” he added, the final nail in the coffin, and then he was gone.
She didn’t even know she could feel more alone than she had two minutes earlier, but as she stood there, the ice melting in her drink, she couldn’t even bring herself to taste it.
Arielle should’ve been having a great time, spinning in circles with Aliza and Oliver, bouncing with Liana and Bella. But the voice behind all the music was Judah’s, and there wasn’t a single moment, even as Ari plastered the brightest smiles on her face and danced so hard it threatened to shake the floors, that she could forget it.
Finally—finally—the first round of dancing came to a close, and Ari glanced at Liana, hoping she could get away with slipping out for a few minutes to get her head on straight. Liana’s gaze was fixed on the band, and Ari turned to see Gideon standing up there, holding the mic.
