I checked the sound system, confirmed the seating arrangements, and made sure the photographer knew where to stand.
Then I stepped back and looked at my daughters.
Stella was helping Maya adjust her dress. Charlotte was fixing Evelyn’s necklace, while Violet argued with a bridesmaid about the placement of a flower arrangement.
Chloe stood near the entrance in her wedding dress.
When she saw me, her face softened.
“Dad.”
I walked toward her slowly.
For one brief moment, I saw the thirteen-year-old girl from that rainy Thursday evening.
Then she smiled, and I saw the woman she had become.
“You look beautiful,” I whispered.
Her eyes filled with tears.
“So do you.”
I laughed.
“I think your eyesight is getting worse.”
She laughed through her tears and hugged me.
I held her carefully, afraid that if I squeezed too tightly, I might never let go.
“You’re going to be okay,” I whispered.
