“I’m sorry it took so long,” he whispered. “Marry me.”
I sobbed into his shoulder until my ribs hurt. I thought I’d hit the jackpot and that every excuse, delay, and “not yet” had been the price of something real.
“I’m sorry it took so long.”
***
We got married that fall in a tiny ceremony.
Megan was my maid of honor. Diane sat in the front row and dabbed her eyes like an actress.
Our first anniversary was last Friday.
I want you to remember that date because the night I thought was the happiest of my life became the night every story I’d ever told myself fell apart.
I want you to remember that date.
***
Aaron had been planning it for weeks, or so he said. Lit candles sat on the table; my favorite pasta simmered on the stove, and a bottle of red wine my husband claimed he’d been saving since the wedding waited nearby.
