It was a beautiful cake, piled high with strawberries and cream, dripping with hardened fudge. I contemplated it carefully, cautious with my breathing. I knew without being told that if I tipped it off its perch on my stomach, Sarah wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice another rubber spatula in order to punish me. At the rate we were going, we’d have to buy more well before the wedding—no matter how many we had coming from our registry, they wouldn’t arrive fast enough.
I lay naked and shivering on our kitchen table—the room wasn’t cold, but my tension and excitement made me tremble.
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