Kids, when you're planning a wedding, everybody smiles at you like you just won the lottery and says the same line:
> "This is going to be the happiest time of your life!"
They don't tell you about the other parts:
The panic over picking one cake flavor
The arguments about centerpieces you don't actually care about
The sudden, terrifying question:
"What if I'm not ready for the rest of my life?"
Oh, and in our case?
Trying to steal a high school prom.
---
Band Hunting & Cold Feet
By this point in the story:
Victoria and I were officially over
Robin and I were… cautious, fragile, not the same
Marshall was a first-year corporate gorilla with a fiancée and a three-ring binder
Lily was "happy" and "fine" and absolutely not fine
And my brother Nox had fully accepted that our lives were cheaper than cable
Which is how a random Tuesday night turned into… this.
---
1. The Binder of Doom
Marshall slammed a massive binder onto the coffee table.
Tabs. Swatches. Printed emails. At least three spreadsheets.
"Gentlemen," he announced. "Welcome to the Eriksen–Aldrin wedding command center."
Barney recoiled like it was radioactive.
"I thought this was poker night," he said. "I prepped my bluffing face, not my 'listen to floral options' face."
"Relax," Nox said, sprawled in the armchair. "I promised Lily we'd give feedback on one tab. Then you can go back to losing fake money."
Marshall flipped the binder open to a section labeled MUSIC.
"Okay," he said. "Crisis: level orange. The DJ Lily loved? Just canceled. Apparently he 'got a better offer' DJ-ing for someone called DJ Ice Thong."
"Follow your dreams, Ice Thong," Nox murmured.
Lily emerged from the bedroom, arms full of kid art projects and stress.
"He didn't 'get a better offer,'" she said. "He bailed because he's a soulless turntable goblin who doesn't respect love."
Barney perked up.
"Is that his stage name?" he asked. "Because I'd go see DJ Soulless Turntable Goblin."
Lily ignored him and dropped into the chair beside Marshall.
"I just… I need the band to be perfect," she said. "We have one shot at this. One dance. One first song. One—"
"Deep breath, Lilypad," Marshall said, rubbing her back. "We'll find someone. We've got options."
"Do we, though?" she said, flipping pages. "We've got:
'The Foreskins' – absolutely not.
'Harmonica Apocalypse' – ska, kill me.
'DJ Napalm' – hard pass.
The only band I've ever loved for this was that college band, remember? The one that did 'Good Feeling.'"
"The 88," I remembered. "You dragged us to that student center show and cried into your beer."
"They were amazing," Lily insisted. "I wrote their name down."
She rifled through the binder like a detective on a cop show until she found a torn flyer.
"There," she said, stabbing it with her finger. "The 88. I called the number—it's disconnected. So either they broke up or they joined a cult."
Nox leaned forward, took the flyer, snapped a photo of it.
"Give me an hour," he said.
I frowned.
"You can't just summon a band," I said. "They're musicians, not Amazon packages."
He gave me a look.
"I own three event halls, one record label, and a streaming platform," he said. "Bands are line items."
He fired off a text, made a quick call in that rapid-fire CEO voice he has, then tossed his phone on the couch.
"Okay," he said. "Good news/bad news."
Lily sat up like someone had injected espresso into her soul.
"Good news first," she said.
"Good news: The 88 still exist," Nox said. "They're playing next week."
Marshall gasped.
"Oh my God," he said. "We can see them, we can hear them live, we can—"
"Bad news," Nox added. "The gig is at Lincoln High School."
"Like… a concert?" I asked.
"Like… prom," Nox said.
There was a beat of silence.
Then Barney's eyes lit up like Christmas in a strip club.
"Prom?" he breathed. "Did someone just say 'prom'?"
Lily's hands flew to her mouth.
"They're playing PROM?" she said. "High school prom?!"
"Apparently the principal's kid is a fan," Nox said. "So they're doing it as a favor. Tiny budget, maximum nostalgia."
Marshall turned to Lily.
Lily turned to Marshall.
They both turned to me.
"Oh no," I said. "No. Absolutely not."
"We have to go," Lily said.
"Of course we have to go," Marshall agreed.
"You cannot crash a high school prom," I said. "We're adults. This is how you end up on lists and in assemblies."
"Relax, Ted," Nox said. "We're not talking kindergarten. Prom is just a low-rent wedding where no one can legally drink and everyone smells like Axe."
Barney hopped up like a kid called on in class.
"This is fate," he said. "The universe is giving us a second chance to fix everything we did wrong at our proms."
"What exactly did you do at your prom?" Bryce asked as she slipped in (she'd been reading on the couch; yes, she'd heard everything).
"Can't talk about it," Barney said. "Most of it's sealed under the Hague Convention."
Lily grabbed the binder again.
"If we go," she said, eyes big, "we can find out if they're still as amazing as I remember. If they are? We beg, bribe, or blackmail them into doing our wedding."
Nox shrugged.
"I'll pay," he said. "Artists should get properly paid. And this sounds hilarious."
I tried one last time.
"Guys. We cannot just stroll into a high school gym full of teenagers and pretend we belong. We're… old."
"You're old," Barney said. "I am timeless."
Lily turned those big kindergarten-teacher eyes on me.
"Ted," she said. "Please. I am one bad buffet decision away from a meltdown. If I can lock down one thing I love? It might stop me from questioning… everything."
I paused.
"What 'everything'?" I asked.
She waved it off too quickly.
"Nothing," she said. "Just normal bride nerves. Too much Pinterest. The crushing existential weight of til-death-do-you-part. Anyway! Prom!"
There it was.
The first real crack.
None of us really saw it yet.
We just saw the binder.
The band.
And the chance to play dress-up in someone else's memories.
---
2. Dress Shopping & Quiet Panic
A few days later, Lily took the next step in "wedding mode."
The dress.
Which, in bride-language, is like the boss battle of emotions.
She pressed a kiss to Marshall's cheek.
"You're not allowed to come," she said. "It's bad luck."
"You really believe that?" he asked.
"No," she admitted. "But I want the look on your face when you see me walking down the aisle to be… new."
He melted.
"Okay," he said. "Go find the dress. I'll… keep organizing the binder."
"You're so sexy when you tab things," she said, then grabbed her bag.
She pointed at Robin.
"Let's go, Scherbatsky," she said. "I need someone ruthless."
Robin grabbed her coat.
"Why me?" she asked.
"Because Ted will cry and say I look beautiful in a burlap sack," Lily said. "Marshall will agree with Ted. Barney will try to talk me into a wedding bikini. Nox will say 'do whatever makes you happy' in a surprisingly sincere way that makes me cry. You will tell me if my butt looks weird."
"Fair," Robin said. "Let's go judge tulle."
---
Even though I wasn't there, I can tell you exactly what that bridal shop was like, because Lily described it—and they all look the same:
Mirrors everywhere
Lullaby piano covers of pop songs
Brides teetering on platforms while strangers pin fabric around their fears
Lily stepped out in Dress #1: big skirt, lace top, the kind of thing you'd draw if someone said "wedding dress" and gave you one crayon.
The saleswoman beamed.
"Oh my God," she said. "You're glowing."
Robin tilted her head.
"Hmm," she said. "You look like a very pretty cupcake."
"That sounds… good?" Lily said.
"It is," Robin said. "If you want cupcake. Do you want cupcake?"
Lily looked in the mirror.
At the dress.
At herself.
At the ring on her finger.
"I… don't know," she admitted.
The saleswoman clapped.
"We'll try another!" she said.
Dress #3 had a plunging neckline.
Dress #5 had no neckline.
Dress #7 looked like it lost a fight with a doily factory.
In between changes, Robin watched Lily.
It wasn't the dresses that were wrong.
It was Lily's face.
She'd come out, smile, spin, say something like "It's nice," then stare at herself in the mirror like she was waiting to recognize the woman in white.
At one point, another bride stepped onto the platform beside her.
Very young.
Very pregnant.
Surrounded by relatives barking opinions.
"That one makes your ankles look swollen," an aunt said.
"Don't get anything too tight, you'll grow," another added.
The girl just stared at herself, eyes wide, like she was trying not to cry.
Lily watched her for a long moment.
Her hand drifted to her own stomach.
Imagining, maybe, the future she'd always assumed she wanted:
Kids.
House.
Marshall.
Grown-up life.
Robin saw it.
"Hey," she said softly. "You okay?"
Lily blinked, snapped back.
"Yeah," she said too quickly. "Totally. Fine. Bride. Fun. Yay."
Robin narrowed her eyes.
"You're lying," she said. "You have 'about to spiral' face."
"I do not spiral," Lily protested.
"You once cried because a crayon broke 'wrong,'" Robin said. "Talk."
Lily sagged onto the little platform, poof of fabric around her.
"What if I'm screwing it up?" she blurted. "Not the dress. The… rest."
Robin sat on the chair below her, looking up.
"Screwing what up?" she asked gently.
"My whole life," Lily whispered. "What if… marrying Marshall means I never leave New York? What if we have kids right away and I never go to Paris or Tokyo or anywhere that isn't Minnesota or Manhattan? What if I wake up at forty and realize the only art I've made are finger-paint turkeys with my students?"
Robin's face softened.
"Have you told him that?" she asked.
"No," Lily said immediately. "Because he's… Marshall. He's all in. He's already talking about three kids and a house and a porch swing and a dog and… I want those things. I do. Just… not yet."
She looked at herself again.
At the veil the saleswoman had enthusiastically plopped on her head.
"What if I'm not ready to be Mrs. Eriksen?" she whispered. "What if I'm still… Lily?"
Robin's voice dropped.
"You will still be Lily," she said. "Even if you get married. Marriage doesn't erase you."
"Sometimes it does," Lily said.
She thought of grandparents. Parents. People who moved from names to titles: Wife. Mom. Mrs. So-and-so.
Robin held her gaze in the mirror.
"Lily," she said. "Cold feet are normal. Questioning is normal. If you weren't at least a little scared, I'd think you were a robot. But if this is more than cold feet? If you're not sure about… all of it? You have to say something. Before the poofy dress. Not after."
Lily swallowed.
"Do you think I shouldn't marry him?" she asked, voice small.
Robin shook her head.
"I think," she said slowly, "you shouldn't marry him until you can stand in a dress—cupcake or not—and see a future you actually want."
Lily's eyes went shiny.
The saleswoman bustled back in, holding yet another creation.
"How are we feeling?" she chirped. "Ready to try a mermaid silhouette?"
Lily pasted on her kindergarten-teacher smile.
"Absolutely," she said. "Let's… mermaid."
Robin watched her disappear into the dressing room again.
She knew that look.
The one that says:
> "I don't want to break his heart.
I don't want to lose myself.
I don't know how to pick one."
---
3. Prom Heist Planning Committee
Meanwhile, the rest of us were doing something much less emotionally mature:
Working out the logistics of crashing prom.
Barney had already drawn a map of the high school on a napkin.
"Main entrance here," he said, circling. "Gym here. Chaperones along these walls. Punch bowl… approximately here. Snipers on the roof—"
"There are no snipers," I said.
"Not with that attitude," he replied.
Marshall chewed on a pen.
"What's our cover story?" he asked. "We can't just walk in and say 'We're old and we love live music.'"
"I can," Nox said. "I'll just say I'm a potential donor. Admins see money, they stop caring what year you graduated."
"That's disturbingly true," I said.
Barney pointed his pen at me and Marshall.
"You two are undercover teachers," he declared. "Eriksen, you're clearly a gym coach. Ted, you're… guidance counselor who peaked in 2003."
"I hate how accurate that is," I muttered.
"And me?" he continued. "I'm the cool young student teacher who slept with the principal's wife. They can't fire me, but they want to. Hence: tension."
"You are not making up a sex scandal for prom," I said.
Bryce, curled up with a book again, chimed in without looking up.
"I can just say I'm with Nox," she said. "Rich people are basically invisible to school admins if they think a check is coming."
"Exactly," Nox said. "We walk in through the main door like we belong. We act like we're supposed to be there. Worst case, we get escorted out and Lily finds another band."
"Middle case?" Barney said. "We dance with inappropriate people, eat cheap cake, and relive our youth."
"Best case?" Marshall added hopefully. "We land the perfect band and Lily stops panicking."
Nox shot me a look.
"You do realize this prom mission is not actually about the band," he said quietly.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Lily's trying to control the one thing she can," he said. "Because everything else is starting to feel bigger than she can manage. It's displacement. Classic."
"You got a psych degree I don't know about?" I quipped.
"Three semesters and a boredom problem," he said. "Trust me: this isn't about music. It's about giving her one safe decision to say 'yes' to while she's terrified of the big yes."
That sat in my chest.
He wasn't wrong.
He rarely is when he sounds that calm.
"So what do we do?" I asked.
"First?" he said. "Get her the band. Remove one stress variable. Second? Make sure someone—probably Robin—actually asks about the rest."
"Third?" Barney added. "Get me crowned prom king."
"No," all of us said.
---
4. The Plan Is On
That night, the pieces were set:
Lily: pretending the dress shopping had solved something it hadn't
Marshall: excited to go hear "their band" and fix one thing for her
Robin: carrying Lily's confession around like a fragile mug
Nox: aware this was about more than music
Me: trying to be supportive and not think about my own failed relationship every time I heard the word "wedding."
We met at the apartment before heading out.
Lily came out in a cute dress, hair curled, eyes a little too wide.
"Okay," she said. "Operation: Prom. We sneak in, we listen, we book the band, we get out before anyone tries to grind on us."
"Don't worry," Robin said. "If any teenager tries to dance with you, you can hit them with your teacher voice."
"I have a terrifying teacher voice," Lily said. "I once made a five-year-old cry just by raising one eyebrow."
"That's my girl," Marshall said proudly.
Barney adjusted his tie in the mirror.
"Alright, team," he said. "Tonight, we reclaim prom. We eat their cake. We steal their band. We leave them with only their hormones and a bad DJ."
Nox grabbed his keys.
"Limo's outside," he said.
Marshall blinked.
"We're taking a limo to a high school dance?" he asked.
"Yes," Nox said. "If we're going to commit to this crime, we're doing it in style."
We filed out.
Six adults.
Headed to a prom that wasn't ours.
Trying to borrow a band.
While one of us quietly questioned whether she was ready to borrow forever.
Kids, I didn't know it yet, but that night was about three things:
A band
A wedding
And whether two people who loved each other enough to plan forever… were ready to actually step into it
Kids, there's this myth that your "last wild night" before settling down somehow answers all your questions.
It doesn't.
Sometimes?
It just proves you brought your questions with you.
Lincoln High was exactly what you think a high school looks like when you come back as an adult:
Smaller
Stickier
And full of people who look like children but somehow have better hair than you did at 17
We pulled up in Nox's limo like the world's weirdest field trip:
Lily and Marshall: vibrating with nerves and nostalgia
Robin: amused, slightly horrified
Barney: practically drooling at the phrase "emotionally vulnerable teenagers"
Nox and Bryce: here for chaos and free mediocre punch
Me: wondering how we got here and why we were pretending this was about a band
---
1. Crashing the Castle
Inside, the entrance was guarded by:
A bored vice principal
A sad banner that said "ENCHANTED EVENING"
A fold-out table with a clipboard
The vice principal looked up as we approached.
"Tickets?" he asked, already annoyed.
Nox stepped forward like he owned the building.
"Hi," he said smoothly. "Nox Mosby. I spoke to Principal Harris earlier about dropping by. We've been looking at potential schools for a tech-education partnership."
He said it like "partnership" was made of money.
The vice principal blinked.
"Oh," he said, suddenly flustered. "Right. Yes. The… partnership."
He checked the clipboard, which did not have Nox's name on it, because of course it didn't.
But money has a smell, kids.
People recognize it even when it's just in the tone of your voice.
"Of course," the guy said. "Guests of the principal. And these are…?"
Nox smiled.
"Friends," he said. "One's a teacher," he gestured at Lily. "He's a lawyer," a nod at Marshall, "this is my brother Ted, and that's Bryce."
He skipped Barney completely.
"—and," Barney cut in, "I'm Lorenzo, the cool student teacher from the college outreach program."
The vice principal looked him up and down.
"Right," he said flatly. "Sure. Just… keep an eye on the kids, okay? No shenanigans."
"Sir, I have never shenaniganned in my life," Barney lied.
We walked past him into the gym.
And just like that, we were in.
---
2. Enchanted Evening (With Bad Lighting)
High school prom, kids, is like a low-budget fairy tale:
Twinkle lights
Streamers
A disco ball that's seen things
Teenagers trying so hard not to look like they're trying
The DJ was playing some over-produced pop nonsense while clusters of kids:
Awkwardly danced
Hovered by the bleachers
Took pictures like their lives depended on it
Up on a small stage: the band.
The 88.
Tuning.
Setting up.
Very real.
Lily stood there, staring, eyes huge.
"There they are," she whispered. "They're real."
Marshall squeezed her hand.
"I can't believe we're doing this," he murmured.
Robin glanced around.
"I can't believe we're not getting arrested," she said.
Barney clapped his hands.
"Okay, prom rules," he said.
"Absolutely not," I cut in.
"Number one," he continued, ignoring me, "no hitting on anyone born after 1990."
"Good rule," Bryce said. "Non-negotiable."
"Number two," Barney added, "dance like nobody's watching, flirt like everyone is, and if anyone asks who we are, we're all student teachers."
"Or donors," Nox said. "I prefer 'donors.' Less prison time."
Lily tore her eyes away from the stage long enough to exhale.
"Okay," she said. "We're here. Step one: listen. Step two: beg. Step three: book the band, get married, live happily ever after."
Her voice wobbled a little on that last part.
Nox heard it.
So did Robin.
---
3. The Music Starts, The Crack Widens
The lights dimmed a bit.
The 88 started their first song.
It was… good.
Really good.
Lily's whole face softened.
"That's them," she breathed. "That's the sound. This is the band I want when I walk down the aisle. This, right here."
She leaned into Marshall.
For a second, it all looked perfect.
Music.
Her head on his shoulder.
His goofy grin.
Then, mid-song, Lily's eyes drifted.
To the lead singer.
Messy hair.
Guitar.
That emo-artist vibe that is scientifically weaponized against women in their twenties.
She watched him.
Not like a crush.
Like a ghost.
Robin, beside her, clocked it.
"You okay?" she murmured.
"Yeah," Lily said. "I'm just… remembering college. Big crowds. Loud music. Beer in plastic cups. Making dumb choices."
Marshall beamed.
"Prom is great," he said. "This is like nostalgia soup."
Lily's smile was thin.
"Yeah," she said. "Nostalgia."
Nox moved to my side.
"You see it yet?" he asked quietly.
"See what?" I said.
"Lily's not here for the band," he said. "She's here for the version of herself she thinks she left behind. That's what she's staring at on that stage."
I watched her.
He was right.
She wasn't looking at the singer like "I want him."
She was looking like:
> "That used to be me. The girl who stayed out too late. Who did dumb stuff. Who didn't know what was next and wasn't terrified of that."
And now?
She had a wedding binder and an IKEA desk and a fiancé who wanted to buy a house.
The band finished a song.
The teens clapped and went back to whatever texting looked like back then.
Lily dragged Robin toward the punch table.
"You coming?" Robin asked me.
"I'll hang back," I said.
This was girl talk territory.
---
4. Lily's Confession, Round Two
Over by the punch bowl, Lily poured herself a cup of sugar-water.
She stared into it like it had answers.
"I'm freaking out," she blurted.
Robin sipped hers.
"At the prom?" she asked. "Or about the guy who just played the song you want to walk down the aisle to?"
"All of it," Lily said. "I love Marshall. I love him. He's my favorite person. I want to marry him. I want to have kids with him. One day. I do."
"But…" Robin prompted.
"But this," Lily said, gesturing at the gym, the band, the kids, "was supposed to come first."
She swallowed.
"I went from college to student teaching to my first real job to moving in with Marshall," she said. "Somewhere in there I was supposed to go wild, be stupid, do shots off a stranger, wake up in the wrong city. Have stories."
"You have stories," Robin said. "They just don't involve waking up in a Mexican prison."
Lily laughed weakly.
"I'm about to put on a white dress and promise to be someone's wife forever," she said. "And part of me is still staring at some guy with a guitar thinking, 'What if I'm supposed to be the girl who goes on tour in a beat-up van?'"
Robin leaned on the table.
"Do you actually want that?" she asked. "Like, really? Or do you just want to know you could've?"
Lily blinked.
"I don't know," she said. "I've never… done the thing where you go all-in on yourself. I've only ever gone all-in on us."
She glanced back at Marshall across the room.
He was teaching a group of teens how to do the "Thriller" dance.
Of course he was.
"He deserves someone who's sure," Lily whispered. "Not someone who sees a band and wonders if they're making a mistake."
Robin's voice softened.
"Then you have to tell him," she said. "Not about the band guy. About this. The fear. The 'what if.' Before the wedding. Not after."
Lily's eyes filled.
"What if telling him breaks him?" she asked. "What if he never looks at me the same again? What if it destroys… everything?"
Robin shook her head.
"If talking about your fears destroys it," she said, "it was never going to survive a mortgage and two toddlers."
Lily looked back at the stage.
The lead singer caught her eye.
Gave a little nod.
Lily's stomach twisted.
"I need air," she muttered.
She handed Robin the punch and walked away.
---
5. The Kiss (And the Break)
The band took a short break.
Teens swarmed the snack table.
Barney was attempting to teach a shy kid how to flirt.
"Rule one," Barney said. "Confidence. Rule two—"
"Rule two," Nox cut in, "don't take advice from this man."
The kid looked relieved.
Bryce confiscated Barney's metaphorical whistle.
Meanwhile, Lily had slipped around the side of the stage.
She found the band near the back doors, gulping water, checking phones, being casually cool.
"Hi," she said, voice a little shaky. "You guys are… amazing."
The lead singer smiled.
"Thanks," he said. "You a chaperone or someone's cooler older sister?"
She laughed.
"Chaperone," she said. "But I saw you years ago. College gig. You did 'Good Feeling' acoustic. It was… kind of my favorite night."
He looked genuinely pleased.
"No way," he said. "That was one of our first shows. Nice to know somebody remembers."
"Yeah," she said. "I remember a lot of it. The bad beer. The sticky floors. The feeling that the world wasn't… decided yet."
He nodded.
"That's the best part of nights like that," he said. "Feels like anything could happen."
Lily swallowed.
"Does it still feel like that?" she asked. "For you?"
He shrugged.
"Some nights," he said. "Some nights it feels like I'm thirty-two playing prom in Jersey."
They both laughed.
He studied her.
"You okay?" he asked. "You've got that 'about to do something reckless' look."
She gave a watery smile.
"I'm getting married," she blurted. "Soon. And I'm… happy. I am. But I'm also here, talking to you, wondering if I ever really let myself be… stupid."
He tilted his head.
"You want my opinion?" he asked.
"Sure," she said.
"Everyone's stupid," he said. "Some people do it with substances and strangers. Some people do it by marrying the wrong person. The trick is figuring out which kind of stupid you can live with."
She laughed.
Then her eyes stung.
"Right," she said. "That's… honest."
The music in the gym shifted.
Kids whooped.
Lily could feel the beat vibrating through the cinderblocks.
She looked at him.
At the door to the gym.
At the ring on her hand.
And for one very stupid, very human second…
She leaned in and kissed him.
Just a quick, searching kiss.
Not passionate.
Not romantic.
Just…
> "Is there something here I'm supposed to choose instead?"
It lasted maybe two seconds.
She pulled back immediately, wide-eyed.
"I—oh my God," she said. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have—"
He held up his hands, surprised.
"Hey," he said. "No harm. Pre-wedding panic is… a thing."
She backed away, heart pounding.
"I have to—" she stammered. "I'm sorry."
She turned—
—and saw Marshall.
Standing in the doorway.
He'd come looking for her.
He'd found… that.
His face.
God.
Hurt.
Confusion.
Like someone had knocked the wind out of him.
"Marshall—" she started.
He shook his head slightly.
"Can we… go somewhere?" he asked, voice too calm. "Somewhere that isn't… here?"
She nodded, throat tight.
They walked down the hall in silence.
---
6. The Classroom Breakdown
They ended up in an empty classroom.
Desks.
Whiteboard.
Posters about algebra.
Very romantic.
Marshall shut the door gently.
Leant against it like he needed it to hold him up.
"Okay," he said, voice shaking. "I saw that. You kissed him."
Lily's eyes filled again.
"I did," she whispered. "And I'm sorry. I am so, so sorry."
"Why?" he asked.
Not angry.
Just broken.
"Because I'm freaking out," she said. "Because I'm scared. Because I don't know how to tell you that I love you and I'm terrified of marrying you at the same time."
He flinched.
"That's… a lot," he said.
"I know," she said. "And I should have said it before I did something that hurt you. I just… I keep thinking about all the things I haven't done. All the places I haven't gone. I feel like I'm rushing into… forever."
He swallowed.
"Do you not want to marry me?" he asked quietly.
"Yes," she said.
He blinked.
"Yes?" he repeated.
"Yes, I want to marry you," she said, tears spilling. "And yes, I'm scared. Both are true. I don't want anyone else. I don't want him. I just… wanted to know if there was some other life I was supposed to live first."
He ran a hand through his hair.
"Do you think I'm not scared?" he asked. "Lily, I am so terrified I'm going to screw this up. That I won't be the husband you deserve. That I'll turn into some corporate robot dad who forgets how to make you laugh."
She sniffed.
"You're not a robot," she said.
"You kissed someone else," he said, pain cracking through now. "And all I could think was… what if that's what you really want? What if I'm just the safe choice, and you resent me forever for being safe?"
She shook her head hard.
"You're not the safe choice," she said. "You're the right choice. You're the one who knows how I take my coffee and what songs make me cry and how to hold me when my kids are monsters. I don't want… chaos instead of you. I just… don't want to lose myself in the process."
He stared at her.
Then at the ring on her finger.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked.
"Because I thought it would hurt you," she said. "And I was trying so hard to be the happy bride who loves everything. The dress. The band. The binder. I thought if I said, 'I'm scared,' you'd hear, 'I don't love you.'"
Marshall stepped closer.
"Lily," he said. "Me loving you means wanting all of you. The part that wants kids and a house… and the part that wants to run away to Paris and paint naked people."
She laughed through tears.
"You remember my naked-people phase," she said.
"Very clearly," he said. "I bought extra sketchbooks."
He took a breath.
"If you need… more time," he said slowly, "we can move the wedding. Not call it off. Just… push it. Until you feel like you're choosing marriage instead of escaping something else."
Her eyes widened.
"You'd… do that?" she asked.
"I'd do anything to make sure that when I watch you walk down that aisle, you're there because you want forever with me," he said. "Not because the deposits are non-refundable."
A laugh-snort-cry escaped her.
"I don't want to move the wedding," she said. "I want to marry you. I just… need to know we're not signing away my dreams in the fine print."
"Then let's not," he said.
He took her hands.
"Let's make a deal," he said. "We get married. We don't have kids until you want them. We save up. We go to Paris. Tokyo. Wherever. You paint. I get drunk on foreign beer and embarrass myself in another language. We build a life that has both: us and your art."
She stared at him like she'd never seen him before.
"Why are you so good?" she whispered.
"Because you're marrying down," he said.
She laughed, really laughed, for the first time that night.
"I'm sorry I kissed him," she said again. "I was stupid."
"You were scared," he said. "Still not great. But… human."
He hesitated.
"I won't pretend it didn't hurt," he added. "It did. It does. But if the price of us being honest is getting punched in the heart once in a while… I'll pay it."
She threw her arms around him.
He held her like the world was on fire and she was the only safe thing left.
"I love you," she said into his chest.
"I love you too," he replied. "Even when you're a prom-crashing almost-groupie."
She pulled back, laughing.
"Never let me be this stupid again," she said.
"Deal," he said. "But next time? Talk first. Kiss random musicians never."
"Fair," she said.
They kissed.
The right kiss.
The one that said:
> "I chose you. Again. Knowing more than I did yesterday."
---
7. Band Secured, Future Negotiated
When they came back into the gym, Robin and I were mid-conversation about whether the punch had ever seen actual fruit.
Lily walked straight to the stage.
Talked to the lead singer.
We watched from the sidelines.
He nodded.
Shook her hand.
Glanced over at Marshall.
Gave a small salute.
Then Lily bounced back, eyes shining.
"They're in," she said. "They'll play the wedding. Nox hammered out the details. They're actually… excited."
"Of course they are," Nox said, strolling over. "Pay's good. Open bar. Less teenage hormones."
Marshall grinned.
"Best prom ever," he said.
Lily squeezed his hand.
"Best prom ever," she echoed.
The band started playing again.
This time, Lily didn't watch the singer.
She watched Marshall.
---
8. One Dance, Two Futures
On the dance floor, teens did whatever passed for a slow dance back then.
Marshall and Lily swayed, forehead to forehead.
Nox and Bryce danced too, looking like they'd wandered in from a better music video.
Barney was in the corner teaching that shy kid how to not step on his date's shoes.
And Robin and I?
We found each other near the edge of the floor.
"Want to?" I asked, nodding at the dancing crowd.
She considered.
"Prom redo?" she said.
"Prom… add-on," I said. "Pretty sure my original prom didn't involve illegally crashing and an actual good band."
She smiled.
"Okay," she said. "One dance."
We moved onto the floor.
Hands on shoulders.
Hands on waist.
Comfortable.
Different than before.
"Think they're okay?" I asked, nodding at Lily and Marshall.
Robin watched them.
"I think," she said, "they just did the hard part. The honest part. If they can keep doing that… they'll be more than okay."
I looked at them too.
At the way Lily held him.
At the way he looked at her.
Like they'd both seen the cliff edge and decided not to jump.
"You still believe in this stuff?" Robin asked me quietly. "Marriage. Forever."
I thought about Victoria.
About 2 a.m.
About honesty.
"Yeah," I said. "I do. I think it's hard. I think it's scary. I think it's not for everyone. But when it works? It's not because people weren't scared. It's because they told the truth anyway."
She nodded slowly.
"It's weird," she said. "Watching them. Sometimes I think, 'That looks amazing.' And sometimes I think, 'That looks like a cage.'"
"Both can be true," I said. "Depends on who you're in there with."
She met my eyes.
"For the record," she said, "I'm glad you told the truth. Eventually."
"Late is better than never," I said. "But next time, I'm aiming for on time."
She smiled.
"Good," she said. "Because I'm not coming to your 2 a.m. drama party ever again."
"Deal," I said.
We danced.
Just… danced.
No big confessions.
No kissing.
Just two people trying to figure out if they had a future that didn't blow everything up.
---
9. Epilogue at MacLaren's
Later that night, we sat in our booth at MacLaren's.
Lily leaning into Marshall
Robin nursing a beer
Barney bragging about "saving prom"
Nox and Bryce sharing fries
Me, watching all of them
"To prom," Marshall said, raising his glass.
"To not getting arrested at prom," Robin added.
"To weddings with good bands," Lily said.
"To brides who don't run away with guitarists," Nox said.
Lily stuck her tongue out at him.
"To honesty," I said.
Everyone clinked.
Kids, here's what I learned from that night:
Cold feet don't mean you're in the wrong relationship.
They mean you understand how big the step is.
Wanting one last wild night doesn't mean you don't love the person you're with.
It means you're scared of losing the version of you that wasn't "someone's spouse" or "someone's parent."
The trick isn't to find a night wild enough to burn the questions away.
It's to find someone you can bring the questions to.
Someone who'll look at you in a bad fluorescent-lit classroom and say:
> "We can build a life where you don't disappear."
That's what Lily found in Marshall that night.
Not a perfect man.
Not a fearless bride.
Just two scared people who chose each other honestly.
And that, kids?
That's better than the "happiest time of your life."
That's the start of your real life.
One terrifying, beautiful, honest prom at a time.