Chapter 26 - The AnniversaryTheir wedding anniversary arrived eleven months after the photograph.

Taylor did not know whether to celebrate.

Neither did Marcus.

The night before, she asked:

"Do we pretend it's normal?"

"No."

"Do we ignore it?"

"No."

"What do you want?"

Marcus thought.

"Dinner at home."

"No gifts?"

"Maybe food is the gift."

Taylor nodded.

She cooked gumbo using Valerie's recipe.

Marcus bought dessert.

After Miles fell asleep, they sat at the dining table.

Taylor placed one envelope beside Marcus's plate.

He looked suspicious.

"What is that?"

"Not a confession."

"Good start."

"It's the message I wrote before our wedding."

Marcus stared.

Printed again.

"I already have it."

"I know."

"Then why?"

Taylor turned it over.

On the back she had written a new note.

Marcus read.

Three years ago I wrote that you deserved to choose me knowing all of me. Then I took that choice away because I was afraid of the answer. Tonight I am not asking you to choose the woman you married. She hid too much. I am asking whether you would choose the woman sitting here now.

Marcus looked up.

Taylor's eyes were wet.

"No deadline," she said quickly.

He almost smiled.

"No emotional ambush?"

"I'm trying very hard."

Marcus folded the paper.

"Do you want my answer?"

Taylor inhaled.

"Yes."

Marcus looked at his wedding ring.

Then at her.

"I already have been."

She blinked.

"What?"

"Choosing you."

Taylor's face began to crumple.

"Don't make me say a speech if you're going to cry before I finish."

She laughed through tears.

Marcus continued.

"I didn't stay because the baby forced me."

Taylor listened.

"I stayed initially because I needed time. Then I stayed because I saw you changing."

He reached across the table.

"Then at some point I stopped evaluating every day."

Taylor held his hand.

Marcus swallowed.

"I love you."

It was the first time he had said it since the revelation.

Taylor closed her eyes.

Tears fell.

"I love you too."

"I know."

She laughed.

Marcus continued.

"I forgive you."

Taylor looked stunned.

He held up a finger.

"That does not mean what happened was okay."

"I know."

"It doesn't mean I will never be hurt by it again."

"I know."

"It doesn't mean trust automatically goes back to where it was."

"I know."

Marcus nodded.

"Good."

Taylor whispered, "What does it mean?"

"It means I am no longer holding the debt open because I think you need to hurt enough to equal what I felt."

Taylor covered her mouth.

Marcus's own eyes filled.

"It means I want to be your husband."

She stood.

He did too.

They embraced.

Not desperate.

Not tragic.

Warm.

Taylor whispered against his chest:

"I'm sorry."

Marcus smiled sadly.

"I know."

This time the words did not sound like debt.

They sounded like history.

Taylor pulled back.

"I need to say something."

Marcus groaned.

"Terrible opening."

She laughed.

"No secret."

"Proceed."

"I forgive myself."

Marcus became still.

Taylor wiped her cheeks.

"I haven't been able to say that."

"For Andre?"

"For surviving him."

Marcus looked at her.

"For lying to you."

She inhaled.

"For what my mother did."

Another breath.

"For not being able to fix everything before people died."

Marcus touched her face.

"That's a lot of forgiveness."

"I've had a lot of guilt."

They kissed.

Later, in their bedroom, intimacy returned fully.

It was not framed as healing.

No cinematic proof that sex repaired trust.

They were simply husband and wife choosing closeness again.

Afterward Taylor rested her head against Marcus.

"Do you ever think about him?"

Marcus laughed softly.

"Andre?"

"Yes."

"Sometimes."

"Does that bother you?"

"No."

Taylor looked surprised.

Marcus continued.

"I think about the guy because he affected my life."

"That's weird."

"Very."

"What do you think?"

Marcus considered.

"Mostly that I wish you'd told me."

Taylor nodded.

"And sometimes?"

He smiled.

"Sometimes I think his cousin's recording was right."

"About?"

"Dead people being easier to remember than annoying living people."

Taylor hit him with a pillow.

Marcus laughed.

Miles cried through the monitor.

They both groaned.

"Your son," Taylor said.

"Our son," Marcus corrected automatically.

They froze.

Then laughed.

The same correction from the first night.

But now it meant something different.

Not ownership.

Partnership.

Marcus climbed out of bed.

"I'll get him."

Taylor watched him go.

On the dresser, their wedding photograph stood beside a recent photograph of Miles.

Andre's photograph was nowhere in the room.

Not because Andre had been erased.

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Because he no longer belonged inside every space.

And before falling asleep that anniversary night, Taylor realized she had gone the entire evening without measuring her happiness against the dead.