The face beneath the veil was that of Emily, my late wife—at least that’s how it appeared to me. Her eyes, the same shade of deep blue, held an expression I hadn’t seen in years, an expression I thought I’d never see again. My mind fought against the logic of it all. Emily was gone, and I knew that, so who was this woman standing before my best friend, about to pledge her life to him?
As I sat there frozen, a flurry of emotions flooded through me—joy, disbelief, confusion, and an overwhelming sense of longing. My heart raced, each beat a question unanswered. Was this some sort of cruel trick my mind was playing on me? Was this grief manifesting itself in the most tangible of illusions?
