My husband was saying recently that we had love at first sight, because we met in June and got married in October. But actually, I know the weekend I fell in love with him. Probably even what we were doing at the time.

It was the weekend of his best friend’s wedding. I knew the bride and they invited me up. My car broke down, but a friend gave me a ride for over half the trip. Then R picked me up and took me the rest of the way. I was tired and sick part of the time and he was very good.

We went to Detroit to take the bride and groom to the airport. Don’t remember how we got there, someone’s van. He’d thrown up because we were up too early. (He’s not good with early hours.) And later I had my head on his leg resting. Someone brought up a painful subject for me; he knew it somehow. He petted my hair and defused the discussion.

I’m fairly sure that if there was a moment that I fell in love, it was that one.

We got engaged the next day.