Summary:

There’s a sign in front of Shane. It says Welcome to Scott Hunter and Kip Grady’s Happily Ever After in a cursive font that makes Shane think of Etsy. Shane’s stomach churns. He briefly squeezes his empty ring finger. He feels, all at once, like he might cry. Instead, he swallows, and breathes, and pastes a smile on his face, and marches his ass down to Scott and Kip’s fucking wedding of the century.