It was two years since we had met. We were older now; we both had money saved and we had our jobs and we were very much on our own. She’d be 21 in a month. We were so sure that we had grown up. We would get married before I went to Iraq. She brought it up this time. She said it made practical sense. If we were married I’d get paid more and she could be on my health insurance. And I’d get to marry Emily. “But we’re going to get divorced,” she said. I said that was fine. I said, “We’ll get divorced if that’s what you want.”
