Carina hadn’t noticed the letter right away. She had gotten up early, earlier than usual, not having slept much. It was a night of troubled dreams, sleep had come fitfully when it did, and she was already wide awake when daylight slowly sharpened in her room. When she finally threw off the blanket, it was past six o’clock. She puttered about the living area of her condo, sipping absent-mindedly at her coffee. The wedding wouldn’t be until five p.m., and she had plenty of time to get ready and think how it was even possible that this day had arrived. A day she had waited for all her life was now upon her, and for years she had steeled herself against the ever-more-real possibility that it would never be hers, and now that it was hers, now that she knew an unfortunate soul like hers could still find true love and get married at the ripe old age of forty-two, something deep within her softly rippled with apprehension.

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