"God, you look beautiful. . ."

Jack froze as he heard his own voice, the high quality speakers enabling his reverently rasped words to fill the room.

He didn't register the absence of Audrey's touch as he absently disengaged her lazily draped hand from around his neck. Nor did he absorb the initial look of confusion which clouded her light green eyes; that look was soon followed by one of complete and utter disbelief and ultimately gave way to a swift and cold comprehension. Like him, she had been rendered motionless. Her lips parted, as if to speak yet nothing came forth.

For the next several moments everything narrowed down to Jack's sense of sound. And the rapid thrum of his heart. His breath stilled as a flash of memory – so visceral he felt it down to the soles of his feet – assaulted him.

He remembered those words. When he said them. To whom they were said. The declaration uttered as reverently as any prayer. And if his memory served him correctly, he had not been alone in what he was feeling; that sense of awe.

Mere seconds later, the sound of a female voice—breathless yet filled with the same sense of wonder—served to confirm what Jack intrinsically knew the moment he'd heard his own ardent declaration.

"Has it ever been this good with anyone else?"

Sabrina.

"No, Babe. And it never will be..."

Declaring what—and who—she wanted. Him.

"You know you're "it" for me, right, Jack? You were then. You are now. You will be forever…"

He remembered, as if it were yesterday.

"I feel the same way, Babe. You need me to say it?"

But it wasn't the feel of her body twined with his.

Nor, the brush of his lips along her jaw, then her throat, before finally claiming her lips as he moved deeply inside her; bathed in her wetness, enveloped by her heated walls.

"No. I just wanted you to know…how I feel."

No, what he recalled and treasured most was the look of pure, naked love that radiated from her chocolaty orbs as she met and held his gaze.

"Same here. You're it for me, Bri. Then. Now. Forever…"

In this moment he could in no way deny that the words from his past were still as powerful and true in the present.

"Really, Morris? Really?"

"What?" he shrugged. He challenged the disbelieving stares of those at the table. "Hey, IKEA's return policy is a bitch to deal with, that's all I'm saying, luv..."

"Forget about the damn gift, Morris." Tearing her sullen gaze from the dance floor, Chloe exhaled a sigh of frustration. "The bigger issue at hand is whether or not there's even gonna be a wedding. Hello? Did you not see—and hear—what just went down here?"

"Oh, yeah. He heard it." Tony tried to discreetly adjust himself without drawing his wife Michelle's attention. "Trust me, Chloe. Every man in here heard it!"

"If I were you, I wouldn't go returning that gift just yet, Morris. And, uh, for the record, Chloe. . . I get the feeling there is gonna be a wedding." As he watched the emotional ambush continue to unfold, Curtis let out a low whistle as he shook his head slowly. "Just not this one…"