Before I could say a word, Paula saw my face and her smile disappeared. “Oh no,” she said. “You found the folder.” Then she unzipped the garment bag. Inside was the ivory dress from the photo. It wasn’t hers. It was mine. Steven had been planning a surprise vow renewal for our thirtieth anniversary, and Paula, who wears my exact size, had stood in for me at every fitting. I burst into tears, and so did she.

Everything fell into place. Steven never went fishing that weekend. His friends covered for him and posted their own photos. The two pictures showing him had been taken on last year’s trip. He spent four days two towns over, working with the jeweler on a new, wider band shaped to fit his injured finger. He wore it the whole weekend to make sure it wouldn’t hurt, and the summer sun left that pale line behind.