“I’m sure you don’t want me to be uncomfortable right? The same way I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. Ever.”

Dassi delicately picked her way down her mother’s staircase in her new cream suede heels, thinking about every time she’d gone down this very set of stairs to meet some nameless face over the years.

When she was straight out of seminary, she’d paraded down the stairs like an utterly awkward spectacle, after the boy had sat down and schmoozed awkwardly (the rugelach shuffle, her stepfather called it), until her mother would say, “Let me go see if Dassi’s ready,” as if she hadn’t been ready and peeking out the window, her stomach a ball of nerves. Eventually she’d moved on with the times and met the boy downstairs when he walked in, but when she walked down the stairs in heels, that’s what her mind flashed back to, every time.

And now she never had to think about another horrible first date ever again, and the pure joy that thought alone gave her… it was enough to smooth out any of the last few months’ rough edges.

Ari was waiting downstairs for her in the living room, in a new suit and shiny shoes, his tie matching her ivory dress. He laughed politely at something her mother said and turned to greet her, and in that moment she felt happiness wash through her, surreal, but also true and strong.

After they’d taken pictures together in the study, and a few more in the living room, her mother turned to her. “We’ll meet you at the hall,” she said. “Ari, park close by so Dassi doesn’t have to walk too far in those shoes.” Then she left in her stepfather’s car, leaving the door ajar since Dassi and Ari were set to follow right behind them.

Ari turned to Dassi. “Wait a sec, actually, before we leave. Can you change your shoes?” He looked her in the eye. “We’re basically the same height now, it’ll be weird in pictures.”

Dassi faltered for a minute, feeling bad she hadn’t considered it. Ari was at least five inches taller than she was, but with heels on, it was true, that gap was somewhat closed. But like… this was her vort outfit!

“Uh… I wish I had another pair that matched, but I don’t. I’m sorry!” She felt bad, but honestly, not that bad. Her vort shoes were amazing. And who asked a kallah to change when she was on the way out to her own vort? No one, that’s who.

Ari’s smile hardened. “I’m uncomfortable with us being the same height in pictures,” he said silkily, almost pleasantly, but his voice had developed a hard edge. “I’m sure you don’t want me to be uncomfortable right? The same way I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. Ever.”

Dassi’s eyes fluttered closed for a brief moment, then she looked back at him. “I really don’t want to do this now,” she said quietly.