Rose didn’t sleep well that night.
In her dreams, she relived the scene from the year they first got married, when she and Ryan were taking their wedding photos.
Ryan was a minimalist; he didn’t care much for so-called formalities. They hadn’t held a wedding ceremony, but Margaret, realizing she was at fault, had taken the initiative and insisted that Ryan pose for wedding photos with Rose.
Once he agreed to something, he followed through.
No matter what the photographer asked of him, he raised no objections.
Whether it was wrapping an arm around her waist, gently caressing her cheek, or...
The photographer said, “Mr. Knight, could you kiss the bride?”
She had been young back then, and facing the man she loved, her heart had inevitably raced.
She had expected him
