and it was

twenty-two years old, li

t a dream,

harp in my head, seventy-two years marrie

together, or

llowed a year later, my

in, the calendar on my wal

st life, Mark came home

ar hope, a chance to live our pe

ongs I' d written in that other life, a l

a welcome party for the coll

ould b

ow sundress, the one he s

clearly, his nervous sm

s secret, knowing what

eople, families greeting thei

, by the lemonade stand

d back, my eyes scann

I saw

back then, handsome, a little self-

laughing, not

eath

wept past me, then la

tty and popular, working at th

le on his face, a smile I hadn't seen direct

laughed, tucking a strand of

ark said, "Bree, I've been waiting all semester

, "Oh, Mark!

orld

ered into a million pieces right

for me, he di

n't a

ead washe

rebor

nted some

ack through our s

o years I

wedding day, yo

own now, with families of the

ngs, his ha

um off-key to m

contentment, a de

our story, our "

harm Bree, a terrib

so different, s

he'd been... quieter, almos

ing Bree out, was conf

fumbled with a proposal

Mark with

mach c

ng a proposal, a repeat

rning, the way his eyes would find

choose another, p

t suddenly wrong, to

tasted sour

of the crowd fel

ricked

dn't b

, away from Mark and Bree, away from t

me, "Sarah! Hon

't stop, cou

e, my lungs burning, my heart