A month before the wedding, Cole thought the wedding photos I picked were too tacky, so he called a bunch of his fraternity brothers over to rate them.

My favorite candid shot, a four.

The hair and makeup I spent three hours on, a five.

The rare eights were either because my hairstyle looked like Sienna’s, or my makeup did.

Finally, Trent projected a photo of Sienna next to mine on the big screen. “On the left is your girlfriend. On the right is the girl every guy in the fraternity wanted—the one you chased for two years and never won over. If you had to choose again, who would you pick?”