Adrian completed physical therapy. He walked when his body allowed it and used his chair when pain required it. Neither choice made him less.
On our first anniversary, we returned to the rose garden after sunset, beneath a sky washed clean by rain. There were no investors, executives, or relatives waiting to laugh.
“Any regrets?” Adrian asked.
I looked at the empty path behind us.
“Only one,” I said. “I should have stopped lowering my eyes years ago.”
