Silver Shadows

n I stepped into the store and saw Sydney …

… and time as I knew it suddenly froze.

I’d meant it when I’d told her to get whatever she wanted. I didn’t care. She really could’ve shown up at the altar in a teal T-shirt, and I would’ve married her with my heart full of love. That being said, I’d had a few ideas of what kind of dress she’d go with. Something modest, say with long lace sleeves, was my biggest guess. Or maybe one of those simple kinds with a short-sleeved top that had no extra embellishment. She was Sydney, after all. I expected pragmatism from her.

What I didn’t expect was old Hollywood glamor. The dress wrapped around her snuggly, showing a body that in no way looked too skinny, with folds of organza and crystal beaded embellishment. Just below her hips, it flared out mermaid style in a burst of tulle that was also decorated with scattered embellishment. Only one delicate lace-and-crystal strap rested on her shoulder; the other shoulder was bare. Her hair, with its new extra length, had been swept into a simple updo with a crystal comb holding it into place at the back of her head, with a long, sheer veil trailing from it. Sparkling, dangling earrings were her only jewelry, and some masterful makeup artist had covered up all signs of her recent fatigue—and her golden lily—without making it look excessive. It was perfect.

She was perfect. Radiant. Glorious. A vision.

“I feel like I should be on my knees again,” I said in a small voice.

You seriously cannot imagine the déjà vu I’m feeling now

I want to get out. I don’t care if I’m on the run. It’s better than living in that trapped existence.