“I thought you didn’t like romance novels.”
“I don’t. That’s why I’m asking a real man.”
I rubbed my face.
“Is this a joke?”
Her smile disappeared.
“No, Daniel.”
She explained that she had always dreamed of wearing a wedding dress and standing before someone who chose her without being forced, bribed, or deceived.
She didn’t want a grand wedding or a marriage built on promises neither of us could keep. She wanted one simple ceremony, one photograph, and one day in which she could feel that life had given her something beautiful before it ended.
“I know it’s an unusual request,” she said. “You can say no. I won’t hate you.”
I looked at her thin fingers resting on the blanket.
“What would marriage mean to you?”
She swallowed.
“That, for once in my life, I wasn’t the woman someone left behind.”
Her words settled between us.
I couldn’t pretend that I understood her entire history. I couldn’t promise that a wedding would heal whatever pain she carried.
