Every time I go to a wedding, I say a little prayer for the bridal couple. I pray that they may have a big share of “happily ever after.”

It doesn’t always happen that way, no matter how many good intentions were there at the start.

In one infamous case, the marriage was over before the wedding album was delivered. And it’s not that it took that long for the wedding photos to be delivered. It was exactly two weeks after the wedding.

I’m quite familiar with the timeline and am intimately aware of all the details because my husband Andy was the photographer. He did the album as a gift for the bride because she was a family friend.

In fact, our two daughters were junior bridesmaids in the wedding party.

It was the most elaborate wedding I had ever seen. There was a maid of honor, seven bridesmaids, several junior bridesmaids, two flower girls and two ring bearers.

The bride’s gown was, of course, magnificent, just as everything about the wedding was elaborate and perfect.

When we took the wedding album to the bride’s home, we were shocked when we were told the bridal couple was no longer a couple. The marriage was over. At first I laughed, thinking it was just a joke.

No reason was given for the stunning turn of events. We left the wedding album with the bride’s family because we certainly had no use for it. I thought the parents that shelled out big bucks for the lavish wedding might at least wanted to see what they paid for.

To this day I’m left wondering what caused the breakup. There was never one whiff of what happened. It was never discussed, just as if it never happened.

It’s impossible, of course, to know with all clarity what marriages will last.

In honor of Valentine’s Day and February, the month of love, I’ll tell you about my favorite improbable marriage.

My dear friend Priscilla just might take the prize for the most improbably marriage. The way she tells the story, she makes it clear there was absolute certainty for her when she married Frank. This is her story, a story so improbable that through the years I’ve asked her for details.

When she had just turned 15 she went to the community pool with her mother.

Priscilla pointed to one of lifeguards and said, “See that guy over there? I’m going to marry him.”

“I knew. There are certain things you just know to be true,” she told me.

At that point in time she had never talked to the lifeguard. Her eyes dance when she tells this part of the story.

Noticing the watch he wore, she went up to the lifeguard and said, “Let me see your watch.”

Frank never asked why she wanted it. He just handed it to her. Priscilla said thanks and walked away. I believe she thought if he wanted his watch back he would have to talk to her.

That’s exactly what happened. Frank was captivated by the gutsy girl with the dazzling smile and dancing eyes.

As she tells the story, Priscilla doesn’t linger much over the start of their love so I don’t know how long they dated. She jumps right in to what she calls the important part.

“We ran away and got married,” she said. “Then we went back and told my parents.”

If it were my parents I don’t know what they would have done first: Call the police, annul the marriage or punish me for my foolishness.

Priscilla’s dad told Frank, “Well, if you want to be married you have to work to support her.” He gave Frank a job in his meat packing company.

Her parents paid their rent but that’s all they were given. It was up to them to learn how to survive on minimum wages.

That’s the point in time when I met Priscilla. We became fast friends, laughing together as we found the most economical way to do things.

Andy and I each had two daughters and so did Frank and Priscilla. Our husbands quickly bonded like brothers, and as they say, life was good.

Priscilla and Frank did everything together. They were seldom separated. If we wanted to go shopping, Frank drove us, waiting patiently until we finished.

Through his hard work and long hours at the plant Frank proved himself to Priscilla’s parents then spent his off time building a home on her family’s compound.

Frank and Priscilla were married almost 50 years when he passed away. She’s been my best friend during all that time, and I can say with all honesty that they never fought.

The other day Priscilla and I were talking about the early years when we each had nothing. “Yet, isn’t it strange that those years of struggle were the happiest,” she said.

Frank and Andy have gone on to their eternal reward, but Priscilla and I are still best friends that can talk about anything.

Every now and then I ask her to tell me once again about her improvable marriage at 16, as well as the start of our close-as-sisters friendship.

“Like I always say, when you know, you know,” Priscilla said.

Email Pattie Mihalik at newsgirl@comcast.net