
Our cake topper from our wedding, I had to show it off because it was amazing and someone else had a Domo one and I got jealous. Made it myself!
Dear Daniel and the-former-Mrs. Domo meet up from time to time. Mostly in all-night joints–diners, the kinds of places that still reek of that bygone era when you could smoke in restaurants. By the time the waitress gets around to pouring it, the coffee’s already blacker than sky outside. Stilted polite conversation. Furtive glances. The hot contents of the mug does little to warm their icy hearts. Still, it’s comforting to know that the one sitting across the table understands betrayal too.
Oh, sorry, was lost in a noir haze for a minute there. Nice cake topper!
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