“The bride and groom are supposed to smash it,” she said, breaking off a piece of caramel, crushing it between her fingers. “I assume we’re not inviting Kit over to do the smashing?” Margot asked. “No, but I couldn’t leave it. Before I made them this morning, I was so proud of it all. I couldn’t wait to smash them. I could imagine the photos.” “You can still smash it, you know?” “What?” “Yeah.” Margot smiled. “Go and smash it. Do it in the garden. Why not?”
