“If something is ugly, embarrassing, expensive, or complicated, we tell each other before it grows teeth.”
I loved him for that.
We lived by it.
Until apparently we didn’t.
Our wedding at the Evermere Grand Hotel had been almost embarrassingly perfect.
The weather cooperated.
Nobody got drunk enough to ruin the speeches.
Adrian cried before I even reached him at the end of the aisle.
We danced until after one in the morning.
Our flight to the Aurelia Isles left that afternoon.
I had woken early because I am incapable of enjoying a departure day unless I have checked the passports six times.
Adrian’s tuxedo was draped over a chair.
I decided to put it into the garment bag.
I checked the pockets because Adrian had a talent for leaving receipts, gum wrappers and occasionally cash in formal clothing.
That was all.
Then I found the Polaroid.
The woman in the picture had silver-blond hair cut to her chin.
