We talked for hours.
About the past.
About marriages that didn’t last.
About children grown.
About Christmases spent wondering about each other.
When I asked if there was any chance to try again, she didn’t hesitate.
“I hoped you’d ask,” she said.
This year, we found our way back to each other.
Not as the people we once were — but as the people we became.
Next spring, we’re getting married.
A small ceremony. Family only.
She’ll wear blue.
I’ll wear gray.
Because sometimes life doesn’t erase what’s meant to be.
It simply waits — until the timing is finally right.
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