Part 1I Will Be Your Permanent Thorn

The day the wedding vows were revised for the third time, Devin and Margot got into another screaming match.

One was my older sister. The other was my fiancé.

Margot insisted on cutting the line "for richer or poorer." She said it felt tired and incredibly cliché.

Devin scoffed. "What do you know about it? The classics carry weight. That's the whole point."

They argued in the church aisles, they argued through the tasting menu at the restaurant. They fought over the word count of the vows and tore each other apart over the processional music.

By early evening, Margot called me.

"I finally got Devin to cave. We're keeping that stupid line, but the entrance music is being changed to an acoustic string cover of "Starlight". I've already hired an arranger. Noelle, what do you think?"

* * *

Margot’s voice was a little hoarse—evidence of how long she’d been yelling. Yet her tone was distinctly elevated, triumphant. She sounded like she’d just won a war.

Before she even finished her sentence, the other end of the line exploded.

Devin’s voice chased after hers, the muffled rustle of the receiver making it obvious he was physically trying to wrestle the phone out of her hand.

"I didn't agree to a damn thing! You play dirty. You couldn't win the argument so you resorted to kicking me under the table!"

Margot’s voice dripped with venom. "Shut your mouth, you absolute dog."

Devin let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. "Why don't you shut up? You threw the wedding binder at my head!"

"I wouldn't have thrown it if you weren't crowding my space!"

"I only crowded your space because I was trying to get the binder back!"

"So you admit you grabbed it first! Hence, the throw!"

"Margot, you are a complete psychopath."

I sat in my apartment, gripping my phone, listening to the volley of their voices.

They grew louder and louder. Just like they had a thousand times before. Neither willing to yield a single inch.

Until they finally remembered I was on the line.

"Noelle, listen to me," Margot demanded, breathless. "Tell him you agree with my vision. You do, right?"

Devin wasn't having it. "Noelle, don't listen to a word she says." He immediately pivoted back to Margot. "Why are you even asking her? Asking her is just forcing her to pick sides."

Margot let out a cold, sharp laugh. "She’s my little sister. So what if she takes my side?"

"She’s my "fiancée". Why the hell would she take yours?"

I opened my mouth to speak.

They started shouting over each other again.

During a thirteen-minute phone call, I spoke exactly three words.

"Hello."

"Yeah."

"Okay."

I slipped them into the microscopic fractures of their argument. It felt like trying to slide a sewing needle between two suffocating brick walls.