“We have a surprise for you tonight,” Stevie announces from the stage. “Please welcome, and give a great big mazel tov to our very own queen, Millie, and hervery average-looking new husband”—they give an exaggerated wink—“Ezra.”
The crowd at FrenchSHEs goes wild as a spotlight shines on us.
My parents, Dawn, and Kane were our four witnesses at our perfect little courthouse wedding. It was logical for us to end up at FrenchSHEs on karaoke night, doing what we did the night we met.
“What are you going to sing?” Joey asks as Cam passes around glasses of champagne. Asher got a babysitter, and Claire is here too.
“I haven’t thought about it, actually,” I admit. “Ezra says he’s got it covered.”
She quirks a brow, surprised that I’d relinquish control like that, I guess.
“Look.” I point to where Stevie, Kane, and Dawn are dressing my dad in a Dolly Parton wig. “I think he’s having more fun than anyone.”
Once it’s in place, he can barely keep his head up. My mom snaps pictures from all angles, probably to ensure she has the best shot to put on this year’s Chanukkah card.
“Hey.” Ezra appears next to me and squeezes my ass. “It’s time.”
“For what?”
Without responding, he drags me up the stairs, and instead of standing center stage, he leads me to a chair slightly off to the side.
He gently forces me to sit with my back to the audience so all I can see is my husband, who now has full control of the mic.
When a loud whistle rings out, the crowd quiets. I whip my head around to find the source and catch Asher tossing up a very dorky-dad thumbs-up.
“Good evening,” Ezra announces.
He’s removed his suit jacket, and though his white shirt is still tucked into his hunter green slacks, he’s undone the top few buttons, showcasing a smattering of dark hair, and he’s rolled his sleeves. His pants taper above a pair of brown loafers that complete the outfit. Who knew a man’s naked ankle could be so sexy?
“Many of you know my wife, Millie.”
Everyone cheers and I toss a reluctant wave, still at a loss for what the fuck is happening.
“What some of you may not know is that we met at a karaoke night. And let’s just say, things got very heated… in more ways than one.”
The room fills with hoots and hollers, and my dad yells, “That’s enough, son.”
Ezra chuckles. “Millie and I don’t shy away from friendly competition, but I thought I’d do things a little differently tonight.” He turns to me. “You’re always the one performing. Now it’s time for you to sit back and enjoy the show,honey.”
He winks, and the familiar chords of an iconic Shania Twain song play as the house band’s guitarist walks on stage.
My heart tightens in my chest, and tears push their way to the surface as Ezra serenades me with an acoustic version of “You’re Still the One.”
As he sings, I can’t help but think about just how far we’ve come and all that we’ve been through: The closet in Crete. Discovering we were dating the same woman. The moment he told me his ridiculous plan. Meeting Kane. My stay at the hospital, where Ezra never left my side. So much matzo ball soup. Making a long-distance relationship not only work but thrive. And now this—marriage.
He’s better than any man I could have ever dreamed of.
AnypersonI could have dreamed of.
Our love is so strong.
And our love will go so far.
This is only the beginning.
Ezra’s voice cracks at the end, and when I leap into his arms, the audience breaks into applause. The microphone digs into my back as he clutches me to his chest, but I don’t care; I’m too busy laughing and crying into my husband’s neck.
“I love you,” I promise him.
