❝ –– perhaps it’s true that things can change in a day. and when they do, those few dozen hours, like the salvaged remains of a burned house—the charred clock, the singed photograph, the scorched furniture—must be resurrected from the ruins and examined. and suddenly, they become the bleached bones of a story.
“I didn’t have a maid of honor, you know,” Teddy mused, her eyes as distant as the horizon. “It didn’t seem right to have someone other than you there… Maybe that’s why I never wanted a real wedding.” So many stories had passed them both by, absent and unvoiced. And Megan - somehow, somewhere along the harrowing way, she had become a mother. How had they done so much living without each other? Years of waiting and wasted days - but they had survived it.
Teddy turned to Megan at last, her smile sad but true: “Anyway, you didn’t miss much; just City Hall and my pager going off in the middle of it. But I do wish you had known the man I married - Henry Burton.”
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