I took her hands.
“You know,” I said, smiling, “I used to imagine marrying you when we were young.”
She looked at me with a tenderness that made my chest ache.
“So did I.”
“Did you ever imagine we’d be doing it at sixty-one?”
She laughed softly.
“Absolutely not. I thought you’d be bald by fifty.”
I burst out laughing.
“That’s cruel.”
“And yet, here we are.”
I kissed her forehead.
Then, moving slowly and giving her every opportunity to tell me if she felt uncomfortable, I helped her with the back of her wedding dress.
She had been smiling a moment earlier.
But as I began to lower the fabric from her shoulders, I felt her body stiffen.
Her fingers tightened around the edge of the dress.
I stopped.
“Are you all right?”
She nodded too quickly.
“Yes.”
But her voice had changed.
I looked at her face.
“Anna, we don’t have to do anything tonight. There’s no hurry.”
