I stepped onto the platform. The height gave me a vantage point over the two hundred guests. Callum reached out his hand, trying to look calm, but I saw the micro-tremor in his fingers. His hazel eyes flicked over my face, scanning for adoration, checking whether something was off. He was used to managing perception, but he couldn’t read me today.

The officiant, a kindly man with a voice like warm syrup, cleared his throat. He opened his leather-bound book, ready to bind us together in the eyes of God and the law.