By Kira Rodriguez, Contributor
I didn’t move, I wouldn’t move. As my pillow cradled my head, my fuzzy blanket wrapped
around my legs, I watched as memories of last night played like a movie. The lights were
warm and bright like her smile as we danced to our favorite song. Her long, flowing dress spun with ease and beauty. Her vibrant, green eyes sparkled in the light as if they truly were emeralds. As she danced, her red curls bounced with just as much joy as she felt. When the song ended, I stared into her eyes as she gazed back into mine. Everyone clapped around us, but I could only hear her heart beating with love and pure delight. As we sliced the cake, I looked down at the gem that would never compare to her beauty. As the knife met the bottom of the large, white cake, I looked at her with a smile before I found frosting in my eyes. In a tux this nice, this expensive, one should be mad. I wasn’t. I was delighted to know she was having fun, creating memories we would remember forever. All night we were surrounded by friends and loved ones, people we spent hours with, talking about what we thought mattered. Last night, I realized none of it mattered as all I wanted was to be by her side, to hold her tight as we danced and ignored our worries.
I look at her now, lying beside me. Her makeup is smeared and her curls lay flat. She wears a faint smile, but not like last night. Her hair drapes over her shoulders as she sleeps soundly. I don’t move. I wouldn’t move. All I wish to do is watch over her and care for her as I recently promised I’d do. Simply watching her isn’t enough. The bed shifts as I stand and make my way into the kitchen. With a click, the flames grow as I place a pan on the stovetop. I dice peppers and onions, remembering her delicate hands as they wrapped around mine. Her touch was so soft, so soothing. We stood facing the crowd as tears fell and hands clapped. I can still remember her soft lips as they touched mine. My heart begins to race as I recall our passion. With a sizzle and a pop, the eggs and bacon create a delightful aroma. The french toast only adds a sweetness to the savory smell. It reminds me of her. Everything reminds me of her. As memories flood my mind, a smile grows wide across my face. I can feel my face become red as I recall the wind flowing through her hair as we biked along our usual path. Her laugh echoed, filling me with joy and laughter. Two arms reach around me in embrace, bringing me out of my love-fueled daze. Her silky smooth skin rubs against mine and everything feels right again.
“Good morning, my husband.”