Before the ceremony, my father came into the room where I was getting ready.
He looked at me for a long moment.
Then he smiled.
“You look happy.”
I nodded.
“I am.”
He hugged me.
“That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”
I held on to him.
And for the first time in years, I thought about the young woman who had stood in a luxury hotel wearing a wedding dress and wondering whether she would survive the night.
I wished I could tell her that she would.
James and I married on a sunny afternoon in May.
Claire cried during the ceremony.
My mother cried even more.
My father somehow managed to remain composed until the moment he walked me down the aisle.
Then he began crying too.
James held my hands as we exchanged our vows.
He promised to love me.
To respect me.
And to build a life with me based on honesty and mutual trust.
