"To Shane! I love you, Shane! I love you! I love you from the bottom of my heart! Congratulations!" The sounds of glasses chiming against each other collide with other voices – our friends, your dear friends – wishing you well, wishing you the best, all the happiness your hands and heart can hold.

And meanwhile, I’ve had a lump in my throat and a knot deep in the pit of my stomach for the past week that still refuse to go away.

When you told me, I felt like I’d gone flying face first into a wall. It felt like something in me had stopped and no matter how hard I try, I still can’t figure out what it was.

"Jen… Carmen and I are… we’re getting married."

My stomach lurched like it does in elevators – this sickening, floating feeling right in my middle that made me feel light-headed and nauseous. It can’t be true. Oh, god, please – it just can’t. Still, somehow, I manage to swallow and smile my brightest smile for you and if my voice sounds faint when I finally make myself start to speak, then I can’t tell, because my heart is pounding so hard in my ears I can’t hardly think straight. "Ohh… oh, Shane, that’s so wonderful! Congratulations! I’m so happy for the both of you! That’s the best fucking news I’ve heard all year! I bet Alice totally fucking freaked, didn’t she?"

"No, uhh, I — she doesn’t… they don’t know, yet. The guys don’t know. You’re the first one I …"

"Really?" I ask, the rushing sound of my pulse fading away, my attention focused outwardly, now, in surprise at your words. I’m the first.

"I… is that okay? I — I mean –" You shift from foot to foot, looking uneasy. It’s not as though you can take it back, now, or un-say it, but I can’t help but appreciate the thoughtfulness behind your uncertainty.

"Ohh, no! No, no… Shane! No, I don’t want you to think that I’m not happy for you. I am. I’m so happy. I guess I’m just a little… shocked. I guess."