It started with the small things: Benjamin slipping on his loafers, a woman in a red floral dress pinning on his boutonniere, two signatures on a blue tablecloth.
Then the garden. Their friends formed a guard of honour and applauded them through, the cork flew, the glasses rose in the sun. A yellow vintage convertible waited under the palm trees for the portraits. At night, under a wall of lanterns, Solène lifted her glass and the whole table followed.
