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She pales and stiffens. “Congratulations,” she says to . . . me. She thinks I mean my bachelor party. She must be thinking of the way Molly slung her arm around my waist at the tasting room—a deceit I didn’t like but didn’t correct.

“Ethan’s,” I say gently.

“Oh!” I’d be a fool to miss the way her posture loosens. She shifts her attention to Ethan, and her face goes soft. “I heard about Elena