Sometimes the most loving thing two people could do
was stop trying to force a life that no longer existed.
That afternoon, Dominic and I visited Sophie’s memorial together.
We brought yellow flowers.
We stood quietly.
Neither of us tried to make the moment about the marriage.
It belonged to Sophie.
Before I left, Dominic handed me a small envelope.
“What’s this?”
“A copy of something I found.”
I opened it.
Inside was a photograph taken several months before Sophie’s death.
She was sitting on his shoulders, laughing.
Dominic was smiling up at her.
I stared at it.
“I’d forgotten this day,” I whispered.
“She wanted to be taller than everyone.”
I laughed through tears.
“That sounds like her.”
He smiled.
“Keep it.”
“Thank you.”
As I walked toward my car, Dominic called my name.
I turned.
“Lauren?”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry I made you feel like you were never enough.”
