Zoe arrived hand in hand with Arthur, both dressed in white. She wore a long lace dress that gently embraced her seven-month-pregnant belly. He, in a linen shirt and a wide smile, guided his wheelchair with lightness and joy. Around them, guests were already spread throughout the space, and the couple was welcomed with hugs, kisses, and warm greetings, everyone celebrating that long-awaited moment by their side.“I’m nervous, Arthur. Truly,” Zoe said, pacing back and forth across the lawn, adjusting her dress as if that might help somehow. “Seriously, my bladder is under pressure, my heart is racing, and I’m sweating in places a pregnant woman shouldn’t even be sweating.”Arthur smiled, turning his wheelchair slightly so he could keep her in sight.“You’re just anxious. Breathe, beautiful.”“Anxious?” she said, placing her hands on her hips. “Love, I’m one step away from interrogating the airplane pilot to see if he already knows the color of the balloon. And listen—I’ll say it right
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