Twelve steps. That was all that lay between him and the altar, but he stopped. His best friends looked at him with expressions of confused concern. The women to their left looked at him with faces of fear and anger. Basically everyone else he'd ever known lined the pathway upon which he stood, all beaming with excitement and happiness. Was he doing this for himself, or for them?
Fabulous. That's the question isn't it? But not many ask it. Good job Zeb.
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