I was an easygoing bride, I thought. Still, some things were non-negotiable. I wanted a fabulous honeymoon suite, for example — somewhere full of style, conveniently located, and big enough that it could double as a place to get ready before the ceremony. Two nights at the Bowery Hotel cost more than both our wedding rings combined, but it meant I’d spend the morning leisurely getting ready, surrounded by friends. It was also close to another community garden where Arran and I could have our “first look.”

Good weather was another must. I never even considered the alternative. I know, most couples have contingency plans. The Pavilion had a covered area which we agreed we’d use for the reception if it were to rain, but it wasn’t in the contract and I never actually envisioned having to do this. Also, its open sides would not be enough to keep us dry in the case of — oh, I don’t know — a hurricane.

By the time I started hearing about Hermine, it was already heading up the east coast, straight towards us.

The day before the wedding, the garden cancelled due to the risk of high winds. It wasn’t raining at the moment, but skies were overcast and the wind smelled of the sea. It was, I thought humorlessly, the calm before the storm.

I emailed Dunja at the Pavilion. “Don’t worry,” read her quick reply. The Pavilion would host our ceremony in addition to the reception, but the logistics were unclear. I would just have to trust.

As a bride, you are constantly being told that, at some point, you have to let go of the little things. In the beginning, Arran and I promised one another we’d keep it easy. Truth be told, it was never easy. From finding the “perfect” cake topper to picking out place cards, not to mention dealing with out-of-town guests, planning a wedding had sucked. The morning we found out about the hurricane, I’d been obsessing over fonts.

Now, none of that even mattered.