strangely grown-up because now we were officially married.
Then the third morning came.
His leave was over.
I stood beside him at the old downtown train station wearing the yellow cotton dress he loved.
He always said the color made me look like sunshine.
Before boarding the train, he pulled me into his arms.
“Next anniversary,” he whispered, “I’m buying you the biggest bouquet of yellow roses I can find. So many you won’t even be able to see over them.”
I laughed.
“You’d better. I only married you for
