Four panels, the same two people. Her hand on his chest could be an embrace or the beginning of a push. A rehearsed image that appears to go wrong — it becomes a gotcha moment. Drawing it by hand slowed it down, but I didn’t draw it slowly.

Ink because ink commits. It goes down fast and can't be taken back, like the sentence they just said. Black and white because the wedding already is: the tux, the dress, the either/or.

Four times because once is a picture and four is an argument. The couple turns panel to panel — the same promise struck again and again, each pass a little different. That's how vows work. You say it until it's true, or until it isn't.