“She told you,” I said.
“She told me.” He studied me with that same long, searching look. “You’re really going to do it?”
“I made her a promise once. I’d like to keep it before it’s too late.”
Wes opened his mouth as if he were about to say something more. Then he closed it.
He looked down at the floor, and his jaw tightened.
“She deserves this,” he said finally, his voice rough. “You have no idea how much she deserves this.”
Chapter 4: The Pink Heart
Three days.
That’s how long we had to plan a wedding.
I spent the first morning standing in front of my closet, staring at the only suit I owned. Charcoal gray, twelve years old, shiny at the elbows. I’d worn it to every Sunday service, every funeral, every baptism. Carol had bought it for me at an outlet store and made me promise to replace it someday. I never had.
