Page 256 of ClickBack

“Mom says I have to walk slow.”

“Slower than you usually do.”

“I’m not trying to be out there forever.”

“It’s one aisle, Zi.”

He straightens his bow tie, though there is nothing wrong with it. “Can we practice?”

So we do. Rae gets up, and we walk from the window to the door with my robe catching beneath my slipper and Di counting far too slowly on purpose. Zion catches on halfway across the room.

“You’re messing with me.”

“Only because you’re available,” she tells him.

He laughs despite himself. When Denise leaves, he goes with her, satisfied that he knows where to stand and that nobody intends to make him walk at Di’s pace.

I ask for a little time alone before the dress. Rae takes Trina next door. Di retrieves her repaired cufflink and promises to return after she has shown Javon how a cuff works. Nia Renée checks the comb, tells me again not to touch it, and closes the door behind her.

The camera is in my bag. Five numbered envelopes wait in the desk drawer.

Trina sent me the video in November. A bride had arranged for her friends to hand the groom little photographs throughout the reception. By the third envelope he could barely look at his wife without giving himself away. I watched it twice, sent back a laughing reply, then watched it again after Jarrett fell asleep.

I bought the camera in January.

Now I take it into the bathroom, where the light is good and there is a lock. The ivory lingerie is already on beneath my robe. I check the timer, test the angle with the robe closed, and discover that I have photographed most of the ceiling.

The second attempt is worse. I laugh at myself, move the camera lower, and try again.

By the time I undo the robe, I know where to stand.

The first picture catches the lace at my hip and my hand holding the silk aside. I wait for it to develop, then set it on the counter. For the next one, I let the robe fall. By the fourth, I have to remind myself to breathe before the timer goes off. Nobody but my husband is seeing these.

I take more than five. Some are crooked. One has the camera hiding everything I meant to show. I keep four that get bolder as I go, then take a fifth with my face in it and the lingerie on the floor.

That one takes the longest to choose. I recognize the way I usually arrange myself for a picture. Chin, smile, shoulders. This time I look into the lens and think about who will be holding it.

When the image develops, I stop reaching for the camera.

I write beneath each picture, seal the envelopes, and put the extras away. They belong to me, too.

Bellamy and Nina arrive in response to the message I sent before I started. I open the door in my robe, holding the envelopes against my chest.

Bellamy looks delighted before I say a word.

“Oh, I like being summoned like this.”

“I need you to be discreet.”

“Then why am I here?”

Nina takes the envelope I offer her. “Because I’m here with you.”

I give Bellamy the first and Nina the second and fourth, with instructions about when to deliver them. Bellamy looks at the number, then at me. Her smile broadens.

“You did that wedding thing.”

“Quietly, Bellamy.”