I took Lyonya’s hand between my own, kissed his papery cheek. “We’re getting married,” I whispered. “Remember?” He didn’t move, didn’t smile, didn’t speak. Death kept on breathing at my shoulder. “I got the divorce. I can marry you now.” Anything I could say to keep him here, keep him with me. “We can marry now. I’ll marry you tomorrow.” I kept saying it long after he was gone.
