By winter the story of the canceled wedding had become old news to everyone except the people who had lived it.

Invitations were long gone, the dress had been cleaned and packed away, and the deposits had been settled as fairly as our contracts allowed.

I returned to work and accepted a promotion that offered better hours.

Mabel learned to ride her scooter without my hand on the back of her jacket.

Sometimes she ran ahead at the park, certain I would still be on the bench when she looked back.

Matthew and I had one last practical exchange about the furniture we’d planned to buy together.