forehead against mine.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“For what?”
“For listening.”
I kissed her again.
Then I asked the officiant to continue.
We got married that afternoon.
Claire didn’t change into the wedding dress she had purchased.
She kept the suit on.
The jacket swallowed her shoulders, and the trousers had to be held in place with a discreet adjustment. The dark tie hung slightly crooked, and her bouquet looked almost comically delicate against the heavy black fabric.
But she was beautiful.
Not because she had dressed conventionally, or because
