They lay together, then, face to
face, their limbs like wisteria vines cultivated over four decades, twirled and tangled
into one inseparable sturdiness. They gazed without spoken word, open, relaxed;
their eyes alone reading hearts and deep histories in the coolness of the linens
that cradled them as softly as each easy breath.
The hint of a shadow crossed his
face.
“What,” her eyes asked. She
exhaled. “What is it?”
“I was just thinking about
everything changing,” he whispered. “Nothing lasts.”
A conviction rose in her chest.
The weight of her joy and gratitude for this man, for their marriage, burgeoned,
uncontainable, until it blossomed into a tender smile that turned up the
corners of her mouth and broke into a fresh sparkle in her face. Light shone from her eyes and spread over him, as reassuring as a warm blanket.
