She simply walked toward the front porch as if she were still my loving bride and this entire situation was merely a minor inconvenience standing between us and our wedding celebration.

When she reached the front door, she knocked gently on the wood.

It was three soft taps, followed by two quick ones.

It was the exact, distinct knocking rhythm she always used whenever she visited my corporate office.

“Jonathan,” she called out through the heavy door, her voice sounding calm and sweet.

“Please open the door.”