Before I had the chance to say anything, my fiancé looked up from his phone and grabbed me in a hug. We were in a real pandemic, he said, worse than we thought, and it looked like the whole country was going into lockdown.
The truth was as plain as day: My real motivation for having a wedding actually had very little to do with the new union I was forming with my husband. It sprang, instead, from a long-held desire to hold court. To make matters worse, my quirky flourishes didn’t absolve me of anything. I was just a bridezilla with hipster taste.
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