Ethan and I planned to use his grandmother’s gold bands for the actual ceremony on Saturday.

We had left them here to be cleaned.

The clerk pushed through the swinging wooden doors.

His hands were completely empty.

“Is there a problem with the polishing?” I asked.

The clerk frowned and adjusted his silver glasses.

“Your maid of honor picked them up yesterday afternoon,” he said.

I placed my palms flat on the cold glass counter.