Ten years later, at their anniversary party, Harold himself showed up. A mutual friend had invited him as a joke. He stood in the corner holding a plate of cake, staring at the couple with suspicion.

Marianne went up to him and whispered, “I think you got our cake that night.”

Harold blinked. “Oh yes. Best cake of my life. Though it did say Congratulations, Marianne and Kyle on the bottom tier. Odd, that.”

She laughed so hard she nearly cried. For the first time in ten years, someone else remembered.