And all the air whooshed out of my lungs. Thick black hair. Olive skin. A slightly crooked nose that enhanced rather than detracted from his ruggedly masculine charm. My future husband was devastation poured into a suit. Not handsome by conventional means, but so powerful and compelling his presence swallowed every molecule of oxygen in the room like a black hole consuming a newborn star. There were generically good-looking men, and there was him.
