it.
It meant more.
A half hour later, just as I was coming out of the bathroom fixing my hair, Marie knocked on the door.
Everyone wanted to know where we were.
It was time to be announced.
âI guess we have to go, then,â Jesse said to me, smiling with the knowledge of what weâd been doing as we kept them waiting.
âI guess so,â I said in the same spirit.
âYeah,â Marie said, none-too-amused. âI guess so.â
She walked ahead of us as we made the short walk over to the inn.
âLooks like weâve angered the Booksellersâ Daughter,â Jesse whispered.
âI think youâre right,â I said.
âI have something really important to tell you,â he said. âAre you ready? Itâs really important. Itâs breaking news.â
âTell me.â
âIâll love you forever.â
âI already knew that,â I said. âAnd Iâll love you forever, too.â
âYeah?â
âYeah,â I said. âIâll love you until weâre so old we can barely walk on our own and we have to get walkers and put those cut-up yellow tennis balls on them. Iâll love you past that, actually. Iâll love you until the end of time.â
âYou sure?â he said, smiling at me, pulling me toward him. Marie was just up ahead, grabbing the door to the reception hall. I could hear the din of large-scale small talk. I imagined a room full of my friends and family introducing themselves to one another. I imagined Olive already having made friends with half of my fatherâs extended family.
When this was over, Jesse and I were leaving on a ten-day trip to India, courtesy of his parents. No living out of backpacks or sleeping in hostels. No deadlines or film shoots while we were there. Just two people in love with each other, in love with the world.
âAre you kidding?â I asked. âYou are my one true love. I donât even think Iâm capable of loving anyone else.â
The double doors opened and Jesse and I walked through,into the reception hall, just as I heard the DJ announce, âIntroducing . . . Jesse and Emma Lerner!â
Hearing my new name felt jarring to me, for a moment. It sounded like someone else. I assumed I would get over it in time, that it would grow on me, likening this moment to the first few days of a haircut.
Besides, the name didnât matter. None of that mattered when I had the man of my dreams.
It was the happiest day of my life.
Emma and Jesse. Forever.
Three hundred and sixty-four days later, he was gone.
T he last time I saw Jesse he was wearing navy blue chinos, Vans, and a heather gray T-shirt. It was his favorite. Heâd done the laundry the day before just so he could wear it.
It was the day before our anniversary. I had managed to snag a freelance assignment writing up a piece on a new hotel in the Santa Ynez Valley in Southern California. Despite the fact that a work trip isnât exactly the most romantic way to spend an anniversary, Jesse was going to join me on the trip. We would celebrate one year of marriage touring the hotel, taking notes on the food, and then squeezing in a visit to a vineyard or two.
But Jesse was asked to join an old boss of his on a quick four-day shoot in the Aleutian Islands.
And unlike me, he had not yet been to Alaska.
âI want to see glaciers,â Jesse said. âYouâve seen them but I havenât yet.â
I thought about how it felt to stare at something so white it looked blue, so large that you felt small, so peaceful you forgot just what an environmental threat they posed. I understood why he wanted to go. But I also knew that if I were in his position, Iâd turn down the opportunity.
Some of it was travel fatigue. He and I had spent almost ten years grabbing on to every opportunity to get on a plane or a train. I was working at a travel blog and writing freelance on the side, doing