Among them was Emily’s flower basket.
We drove there together on a clear Saturday morning.
The garden terrace no longer held chairs, lights, or wedding decorations. Pine trees moved gently beyond the empty arbor while sunlight crossed the mountains.
Emily carried the basket toward the beginning of the aisle.
“I practiced this walk for weeks, but I never actually got to do it.”
“Would you like to finish it now?”
She hesitated before handing me several silk petals that had remained inside the basket.
We walked slowly toward the arbor while she scattered them over the empty path.
No guests watched.
No music controlled our pace.
At the end, Emily looked up.
“What happens after we reach this part?”
“We decide where to walk next.”
That answer became the start of a new tradition.
Every year on Caroline’s birthday, Emily and I chose somewhere neither of us had visited.
