"I know what you're thinking," Harper says, setting the table for dinner party number three this month. "We already did the bachelor and bachelorette parties after the wedding. Now we're doing a rehearsal dinner ten months post-wedding. The timeline is completely backwards."
"I wasn't thinking that," I lie.
"You were absolutely thinking that." She's arranging flowers, the same wildflowers from our actual wedding that she somehow sourced again. "But here's the thing. You never had a rehearsal dinner. The first wedding, Victoria planned everything and you just showed up. This wedding, we did it so fast there wasn't time. So now, ten months in, we're having the dinner you should have had."
"A retroactive rehearsal dinner for a marriage we're currently living."
"Exactly." She stands back,
