“Come on, Sylvie. We can do this.” When I finally peel myself off the bed and stand in front of him, I drink in my last look. The last moment when I will see him as my husband. The last time I will see him as his wife. After I’ve had my fill, I move toward the door. But first, he scoops me into his arms and holds me tight against him. Even as I wrap my hands around him, I feel half gone. “I’m gonna miss you, my wee little wife,” he whispers in my hair. “Please take care of yourself, you brute,” I reply. But when I finally tear myself away, I don’t look back. I can’t. If I look into his eyes
...more
